Saints Behind the Glass

When I was in 8th grade, we were given an assignment which asked us to find a song and describe how it was a prayer. My song was Saints Behind the Glass by the Los Lobos.

I was thinking about that today because the memory made me realize that two things have not changed at all.

First, I'm still totally obsessed with the Los Lobos. The music means a lot to me for a lot of different reasons. I think it has helped me through every bad thing that has ever happened in my life. You would think the music would make me sad, and I would avoid it. It does make me sad---it makes me cry a lot of times---but it reminds me of how strong I am. For every bad memory that these songs provoke, I am reminded of the things I've learned and how I have healed. I think the songs have a lot to do with that healing.

Saints does not remind me of anything sad. It reminds of something quite happy actually.

My appreciation for saints--not the statues, but real saints--is one that I cherish because I think saints walk all around us. They are real humans. They just believe a little differently, love a little differently, and react a little differently. They are all the really good people you know. The ones that you think "wow, I don't know how they give so much."

I've watched two saints for all of my life. I've watched them sacrifice for their family, each other, and complete strangers. My parents are absolutely phenomenal people. They make me believe in good in the world. And, they do it quietly every single day.

I've watched every single day, and I've always hoped that I would grow up to be them. I think in some ways, I have. And the fact that they support who I am is even better.

In the song, the saints are "behind the glass." They are in the stained glass windows, watching over us. I don't think saints are in glass. But I do think they're always watching over us, through eyes that we really don't understand.

Saints. Watching over us. Guiding us. Sometimes we don't even know how much they shape us.

Hammer and a nail
Hammer and a nail
Saint behind the glass
Holds a hammer and a nail

Baby in his arms
Baby in his arms
Saint behind the glass
Has a baby in his arms

Watches me sleep
Watches me sleep
Saint behind the glass
Watches me while I sleep

Coffee in the air
Coffee in the air
Saint behind the glass
Smells coffee in the air

Curtains blowing 'round
Curtains blowing 'round
Saint behind the glass
Sees the curtains blowing 'round

Night upon my head
Night upon my head
Saint behind the glass
Lays night upon my head

Mother don't cry
Mother don't cry
Saint behind the glass
Tells mother not to cry