Tlaxcala and Puebla

The Mexico-Puebla Federal Highway

We left Mexico City early the fourth day for a long bus ride on Autopista Mexico-Puebla, a toll road that connects the modern capital city through Puebla to coastal Veracruz. Along the way we pulled over for a hoped-for view of two significant volvanic peaks: Dormant and snow capped Iztaccihuatl, and the still-active Popocatepetl. We were disappointed by low lying clouds.

Tlaxcala and San Miguel de Milagro

We exited the highway and crossed into the state of Tlaxcala, climbing narrow roads through at least three quaint villages, each boasting a lovely parish church decorated with streamers. San Miguel del Milagro (Saint Michael of the Miracle) is a shrine built at the site of a hillside spring.

In 1631, one hundred years after the Guadalupe apparitions, the Archangel Michael is said to have appeared to lowly teen Diego de San Lazaro, whose people were in the midst of a regional plague. The angel told the boy that anyone with a lively faith and a sincere sorrow for their sins would be healed by drinking from a spring he would point out. Many miraculous physical healings were afterward reported, fostering countless spiritual healings into today. Diego Lazaro related that Michael’s sword was made not of metal but of light – a 17th century spiritual light saber!

We took a few minutes to pray in the chapel, then proceeded around the building to pass beneath a symbolic cape of St. Michael behind the altar. The crypt of Diego Lazaro lies beneath a statue of the archangel.

San Francisco de Puebla

The lovely town of Puebla boasts hundreds of churches, and a lovely mix of architectural styles. The vibe was considerably more welcoming and low key than crowded and traffic-clogged Mexico City. We celebrated Mass at San Francisco de Puebla, a church and former Franciscan convent dating to the 16th century. The church facade is a bright and welcoming, with a soaring bell tower. The sanctuary is tall and light-filled. Gold banners hang from pillars at the Tabernacle proclaiming in Spanish the words of St. Francis of Assisi, “Preach the Gospel at all times. When necessary, use words.”

A side chapel houses the incorrupt body of Sebastian Aparicio, a devout 16th century farmer, road builder, peacemaker, and philanthropist. After two successive wives died he joined the Franciscans in his 70s, living joyfully and humbly. Chris Stefanick noted that Sebastian was a simple man who strove to discern and heed the right voice and to reject the wrong voices. Chris challenged us, “What voices are you listening to?”

Candy Street

We walked through Puebla along Candy Street, a colorful and aromatic avenue lined with purveyors of pottery and tempting sweets. Jean and I anticipated returning during our promised free time later that afternoon.

Chapel of the Rosary

Our group had experienced inspiring beauty in nearly a dozen churches and chapels by the time we turned the corner from Candy Street and entered the late-17th century Templo de Santo Domingo. The somber exterior of the church opens to a colorful sanctuary studded with intricate altarpieces, its famous Chapel of the Rosary aglitter in onyx and gilded flourishes. The church interior has been called “The House of Gold” and is mentioned as a candidate for the Eighth Wonder of the World.

Formula One Rally

We had about two hours before dinner at a local restaurant, and were to walk together to the Basilica Cathedral of Puebla – said to be among the most beautiful cathedrals in the world – before enjoying free time. We instead encountered blocked streets and a central square teeming with race fans cheering Formula One drivers and their machines as they slowly passed through the throngs. By the time we navigated the detours and happy crowds we had 20 minutes to visit the Cathedral, the nearby Biblioteca Palafoxiania, the oldest public library in the Americas, or to window shop. Candy Street lay across the crowded square, and Jean and I found nothing comparable in the streets surrounding the Cathedral.

A Late Night

The dinner was enjoyable, and we walked through the pleasantly lit town to our buses. One pilgrim got lost, and our return to Mexico City was delayed until he was located. Traffic on the Autopista was slow, backing up significantly at every toll plaza. It was 12:30am before we could shower and fall into bed, too tired to adequately prepare for the fifth and final full day of our pilgrimage.