Maria Paints Mary

In Guatemala's sun, so warm and so bright,

Lived Maria, a girl, filled with joy and with light.

With a heart full of wonder, and hands quick and keen,

She loved to paint pictures, the best you have seen.

Not flowers or mountains, though lovely they be,

But a lady so special, for all eyes to see.

Mary Magdalene, pure and so true,

Maria's dear idol, in shades bold and new.

With brushes and paints, and a gentle, soft hum,

Maria would bring her devotion to come.

She'd paint Mary weeping, with love in her gaze,

Or standing by Jesus, in sun's golden haze.

Each stroke was a prayer, each color a plea,

For kindness and mercy, for all hearts to be free.

For Maria knew well, of Mary's great love,

A lesson sent down from the heavens above.

So if you see pictures, in colors so grand,

Of a woman so faithful, by Maria's own hand,

Know they're painted with joy, and with faith deep and true,

A gift from Maria, for me and for you.