- Kissing the hands of the Most Holy Mary of Charity in her Solitude- Brotherhood of Marketplace
- Students: Transfer to the Christ of the Good Death and Our Lady of Anguish
- Cigarreras: Triduum to Our Lady of Victory
- Saint Paul: Solemn function to the Virgin of the Sorrowful Rosary
- Oath Mass and Transfer to El Paso in Santa Marta
- Cofrade Passion Weekend Agenda
- Making Cabildo Hours, Easter payroll changes
- San Esteban: Besamanos of the Virgin of the Helpless
- Main Function quinario and the Risen Lord
- Transfer the Esperanza de Triana
Grandmother of the Nazarene
Yesterday was the first day I left Nazareth. The child, one corujo, You encaste and reattached in the sense of Sevilla, from Friday of Dolores he was with the dog:
— Come, come, I want to get dressed Nazarene, it is today and Easter…
You had to put sandals to conform, and they spent the whole morning of Palm Sunday walking around the house, doing with his mouth the sound of drums and trumpets. It costs God and help, and an important llantina, Nazareno his sandals, because they wanted to see the Borriquita. He spent the afternoon telling his cousins:
— I have a pair of sandals and a white hood, and tunic, because I am nazareno…
The entire Palm Sunday passed it saying it was already nazareno. I told the other Nazarenes, of the few, with rain, He could see on chairs, when it began to make their ball of wax. Albal approached the role with few, first drops of wax, and he told all Nazarenes to asking wax, giving importance, colleague to colleague:
— Do not you know that I am also nazareno? And I have sandals…
And the day came. It was yesterday. The sevillanito madrugón stuck one morning that neither Magi. More joy. His best toy was there: the robe, sandals, capirote, Esparto brief belt just four fingers wide… Mother was still asleep, Rendered walks and wettings of Sunday, when he entered the room:
At ten o'clock they had to start dressing.
— Come, I'll wear, But do not go to stain the robe, ¿eh?, which it is white…
Mother, not without emotion, He took the robe and put. Le donned white socks, sandals. Then came the problem. Mother, the truth, is Seville, He knows his father is very low number in the Esperanza de Triana, It is tired of seeing the picture of the Virgin with the dedication of the Board at the golden jubilee with the brotherhood. Mother, the truth, It has dress mantilla, he went to see the girl brotherhoods, girl, bride. Of Mother, with shopping, like all mothers to underperform Seville son on Palm Sunday. He knows that Our Lady of Grace and Hope was bringing her memories Grandma Girl, and comprising these silences, when it passes between green velvets. But, the truth, now, when he is dressing the child, as his father was of Hope of Triana and does not know what a tail coat, sees this and calls the grandmother:
— Mom, Ramon is already dressed Nazarene, not see the can that has given me. But I have a problem… This peak having the tunic, What it is done with it?
And the grandmother:
— it, you seem to Bilbao and not of Triana… Wait, right now I take a taxi.
And he took. And full of joy, at the time I was there. Excitedly he puts his tail to his grandson. The best set of the world. He did not say, no one saw him tears. He thought in this blessed land where the grandchildren again tunic tail. And he remembered those early mornings of the old house, when her mother put a tail father's coat the Great Power.
El Mundo de Andalucía, Tuesday 18 April 2000