Carlos Fentanes

Conversations with Virgin Mary

This week I’m away from home. We developed a new cashbox for one of our clients, and we’re installing it across their entire fleet.

It seemed like the perfect opportunity to apply my new Virgin Mary lessons about flowers and wait for her message.

After arriving at the hotel and dropping off my luggage, I went straight to the nearest supermarket. I bought a bouquet of flowers, filled the ice bucket with water, arranged the flowers in it, and placed them on the desk in my room.

Then I waited.

I had time because I was working nights. Would anything change? I didn’t know. I sat in the room contemplating the flowers, trying to find meaning in them. Instead, I felt an odd sensation, as if I were wasting my time. Eventually, I left for work.

We had been racing to finish this project because the previous cashbox design caused constant problems. The operators who emptied the fareboxes into the vault worked under tight schedules during the night shift and wanted to finish as quickly as possible. Delicacy was not their strongest quality. If something became stuck, force usually arrived before patience.

We work at night because that’s when the buses are back in the barn and it’s easier to access the entire fleet.

Still, the body feels the strain of carrying cashboxes around a transit garage long after midnight.

When I returned to the hotel, exhausted, I fell asleep immediately. I had completely forgotten about the flowers.

Next morning I woke with pain in my neck and back. I looked at the flowers and smiled. They hadn’t cured my soreness. They stood there silently, witnesses to my doubts about these Virgin Mary shenanigans.

Instead of waiting for enlightenment or some dramatic shift in my mood, I decided to put my body to work. I spent half an hour doing yoga in the room. The stiffness in my neck eased. My back felt better.

The yoga helped, not the flowers. Yoga 1 – Flowers 0

After returning home, I told Jorge about my experience. I confessed my frustration and my inability to understand the task. I had expected something—a sign, a message, good news. Instead, I found silence.

He poured tea into my cup.

“Ah,” he said. “This is the part where every self-help guru blames you.”

I laughed.

“No, seriously. According to the rules, Virgin Mary didn’t fail. You did. You performed the task with an agenda. You were waiting for a message. That wasn’t the assignment. You’re supposed to do it for its own sake, not because you’re expecting a reward.”

He took a sip of tea and carefully returned the cup to its saucer. I noticed a slight tremor in his hand.

Then he continued.

“Isn’t it absurd? Every self-help book works the same way. If you don’t reach enlightenment, it’s never because the method is flawed. It’s because you didn’t follow the instructions correctly—even when you followed them exactly.”

“Are you telling me Virgin Mary letters aren’t real?” I asked. “That you made all this up?”

“No. Quite the opposite.”

He leaned back in his chair.

“This is the real thing. These letters saved me. They cured my own Parkinson’s. The letters are an investment.”

He paused.

“Think about a retirement fund. Every year you contribute a little money. You keep doing it faithfully, almost mechanically. Then one day, decades later, you discover that this forgotten habit has transformed your future. The investment grew while you weren’t paying attention.”

He pointed at me.

“That’s what Virgin Mary is. You do the task and forget about the results. A year later, you’re different. Your mind is clearer. You make better decisions. You take better care of your mother. You submit your art to the right places. Don’t expect a messenger in a UPS uniform to arrive at your door carrying an envelope from Virgin Mary.”

He smiled.

“Don’t be so literal. Enjoy your life and keep walking toward your destiny.”

Jorge stood up and walked to the front door. He opened it.

Virgo was waiting outside.

She meowed once and walked into the house.

Jorge poured milk into her bowl and set it on the floor.

“I didn’t hear anything,” I said. “How did you know she was there?”

He looked at me with genuine disbelief.

“She called me.”

Just that, so natural. I didn’t know what to say.

After finishing her milk, Virgo jumped onto Jorge’s lap and began to purr. He reached into his folder, removed another letter, and handed it to me.

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Saturday May 26^th

Pressure changes the physical properties of matter because it changes how closely atoms and molecules are packed together. Pressure changes carbon into diamonds. Pressure warms gases — that is how refrigeration works. Pressure changes the boiling point of water and reduces cooking time. Flavour itself changes under pressure.

But a system under pressure without regulation will fail. The early pressure cookers exploded. The engineering solution was not to reduce the pressure — it was to manage it. A pressure valve does not eliminate pressure. It releases the excess at the precise moment the system reaches its limit, and by doing so, it allows the process to continue safely.

A pressure valve is perhaps the most underappreciated component in any pressurized system. Without it, the vessel and everything inside it would be destroyed. With it, the process completes. The meal is made.

Your task this week will be cooking something in a pressure cooker, anything, your favorite dish.

After you’re done with the task, I will give you a present. No, it’s not a diamond, it’s something better, I’ll give you a pressure valve, wait for it.

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“Now a present instead of a messenger! A pressure valve? Who wants a pressure valve as a present? I’m not a cook. Actually, I’d prefer a diamond,” I said, half joking and half serious, remembering Jorge’s lessons about investment and patience.

“Remember,” he replied, “pressure can make diamonds, but pressure can also make a pot explode. A pressure valve is precious. You can die under pressure. A pressure valve can save your life.”

I took a sip of tea and answered, “I already have my own pressure valve. Her name is Lulu. She’s so direct about her needs—and about taking care of me—that whenever she’s beside me, I have no choice but to stop what I’m doing and cuddle her. That’s how I release pressure.”

Jorge laughed.

“You see?” and then went to the piano and started to sing:

“You have to learn to pace yourself
Pressure
You’re just like everybody else
Pressure”.

I started to sing with him, Billy Joel worked as a pressure valve.