My father named Maria Cecilia for the ship that took him into exile to Chile, saving his life from a political persecution as cruel as relentless when he was only 25 years old. In addition, Santa Cecilia is the Patron Saint of Music, who survived the torture and suffocation to which she was subjected because of her faith, singing and smiling in honor of God. It will be for both reasons that my sister Ceci always lives up to her name, and sails even today, through the rough waters of this hard life, smiling and singing, preaching her faith and her love for God and for the neighbor, radiant, youthful and proactive.
She was born in Santiago de Cuba, next to the Sierra Maestra, when Fidel and his bearded men fought with Batista's troops ... And as a baby she showed her miraculous joy and her determination to live. My mother told me that she practically did not cry in the bombings!
Already in Lima, as a child and adolescent, she was very shy and I, the “funny” and joker of the family, had enough of it with nicknames and jokes in bad taste, although we always loved and respected each other. She overcame my younger brother jokes with the only and wise strategy she has always applied: coping and not facing. I love her very much and I thank her for being as she is: good and noble, cheerful and eternally youthful.