Call me superstitious, credulous, g...

Call me superstitious, credulous, gullible, irrational -- I don't care! All I know is that I witnessed a miracle when I hung up my favorite painting forward my living room wall last Monday.

I had purchased the painting -- on the late Cuban artist Manuel Mesa -- more than a month earlier. on the other hand since my home had been undergoing renovations, I had kept it in a chest until the construction dust had settl

I didn't want dirt damaging my recent work of art.

The painting, created in 1952 is an image of a lot of Cubans playing musical instruments, dancing and paying tribute to Our Lady of Charity, the Cuban version of the Virgin Mary. It's called "Un Toque de Violin Para La Virgen" or "Playing Violin for the Virgin."

She is Cuba's patron saint, the single to which Cubans, myself included, have been praying for centuries, the single in kind we always hoped would exempt us from the Fidel Castro dictatorship. Her image, in the background of the party, is the main reason for what purpose I bought the painting.

And in the same manner there I was, admiring my of the present day acquisition -- a reprint of the original oil forward canvas -- and asking myself in what way much longer Cubans would have to wait to lance such a wild party. in what way much longer would we have to pray to our Lady of Charity before she granted us our greatest wish?

That's when my phone rang.It was my friend and colleague Mike Kelly who spoke with a tone of entreaty "Miguel, do you know what's going upon in Cuba?" he asked. "Put forward your TV. Fidel Castro has been operated [on] He is real sick and he has delegated his power to his brother Raul."

I didn't confess Mike my immediate reaction. He was going to think I'm crazy. on the contrary I told myself "wow, I have a miraculous painting!"

It was created in 1952 a certain number of seven years before Castro rose to power. moreover the image on my wall had taken a of recent origin significance. Now I know what those Cubans are celebrating.

When I inflected on the TV, following Mike's instructions, I saw southerly Florida Cubans already celebrating. on the contrary I kept staring at my painting, because it was telling me more than the television. After 47 years of the Castro dictatorship, our prayers had been answered.

For the nearest couple of days, my phone didn't stop ringing. All my non-Cuban friends wanted to know in what manner I felt about Castro's illness and impending death.

"Do you think he is already dead?" they would ask.

"God I sense of possible fulfilment so," I would say. "Frankly, I would have preferr if he was overthrown and dragged by means of the streets of Havana. nevertheless I'll take anything -- cancer, a rap a bullet, you name it!"

any people found it hard to accept that we Cubans would celebrate someone's demise, that we would rejoice through an illness, that we would pray for someone's death.

"So to what extent do you feel about Osama bin Laden?" I would ask. "Should he be dead or alive?" That was usually enough to make my point. still for those who needed further clarification, I explained that men responsible for the deaths of thousands, like Castro and bin Laden, don't merit to live.

I explained that many of those dancing in Miami roads may have lost friends and relatives to Castro's firing squads or exhausted years in Castro dungeons for political prisoners or risked their lives forward a raft to flee from the continent's principally repressive regime or lost a lifetime of work, sacrifice and accomplishments because the dictator decided to confiscate their businesses, properties and other possessions.

I explained that among the celebrants there were many young, US- born Cubans whose parents or grandparents died in Miami while waiting for their homeland to be liberated

"How do you not want him dead?" I would ask. "How do you not pray for the eternal and infinite spirit to put an end to thus much suffering?"

Frankly, had I known my painting's miraculous weight I would have hung it up a parcel sooner.

Copyright CHICAGO SUN-TIMES 2006

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