Chapter One
 

Such a man and woman aren't measured from their heads to their feet, but from their heads to the sky, for these people are giants -- who know the Thirteen senses of Creation!
 

Was it love?
 

Had it ever really been love?
 

For fifty years they'd been husband and wife. For fifty years the Father Sun had come and gone. For fifty years the Mother Moon had risen and disappeared. For fifty years they'd loved, fought, and lived together, and now, here they were standing before the priest once again, ready to renew their wedding vows.
 

Juan Salvador Villaseñor, the nineteenth child of his family, was seventy-five years old. Maria Guadalupe Gomez, the eighth child of her family, was sixty-eight years old. Salvador now turned and took the hand of the woman standing beside him. Lupe turned and looked into Salvador's eyes.
 

The priest began his words, and Salvador and Lupe's children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren looked on with love, respect, and gusto. It was a small wedding this time with just family and a few friends, being done in the living room of the great house that Salvador and Lupe had designed and built nearly thirty-five years before.
 

Sunlight streamed in through the large windows behind Salvador and Lupe as the priest continued his words. People's eyes filled with tears. This was a magic moment, where everyone in the room just knew that God's blessing was with them.
 

The groom was dressed in his favorite dark maroon suit with a striped tie of silver and gold. The bride was wearing a beautiful three-quarterlength white dress with intricate lace and interwoven ribbon of yellow gold. Salvador's hair was white and full and still curly. Lupe's hair was mostly gray, too, yet sprinkled with beautiful long strands of black.
 

The priest continued, and the small gathering of family and friends listened to every word. This time, different from last time, the priest was much younger than the couple getting married. "Juan Salvador Villaseñor," the young priest was now saying, "do you take Maria Guadalupe Gomez to be your wife? Do you promise to be true to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love and honor all the days of your life?"
 

Lupe turned and stared at Salvador's lion mane of hair and the huge, long, white moustache on his upper lip. It moved like a fat worm as he spoke. "Yes, I do," he said.
 

Hearing this, she realized how different these words now felt compared to last time. When she'd heard these words fifty years before, she'd been so young and naïve that she'd taken his "Yes, I do" to mean so much more than she did this time. Last time, she'd thought these words meant that she would have someone with her through good times, bad times, sickness, health, and there would always be love and honor. What a fool she'd been! If the truth were known, sometimes she would've been better off without him.
 

Then, she realized that the young priest was speaking to her. "And you, Maria Guadalupe Gomez," said the young man of God, "do you take Juan Salvador Villaseñor to be your husband? Do you promise to be true to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love him and honor him all the days of your life?"
 

At first Lupe didn't answer. My God, this was exactly what she'd done for all these years. But had he? Had Salvador been true to her and honored her? Or, had he ever really even loved her?
 

Then she suddenly remembered how these words "in bad times" had almost stopped her last time. Even back then, when she'd been eighteen years old, she'd wondered if it was wise for any woman to agree to this statement.
 

"Say, 'yes, I do,'" said the young priest, leaning in close to Lupe.
 

Lupe almost laughed. This was exactly what the priest had done last time. Only then the priest had been old, and he'd looked so full of authority that she'd been intimidated. But she wasn't intimidated in the least this time, and so she just looked at this young priest and smiled.
 

Juan Salvador saw her smile, that little smile of hers that was so full of mischief. He grinned, squeezing her hand.
 

Feeling her hand being squeezed, Lupe turned and looked at this gray-haired, old man standing beside her, and she saw his grin. She grinned, too.
 

"Okay," she said, squeezing his hand in return. "Yes, I do."
 

Everyone in the room looked greatly relieved, except Salvador. He'd never had any doubt.
 

Then it was Lupe's turn to repeat the words of holy acceptance, but when she came to the passage, "To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part," tears came to her eyes. After fifty years of marriage, she could now see that these were the very words that had given her the power to endure all the hardships of the years.
 

Why, these words "until death do us part" were the very foundation of every marriage. And she could also see that yes, even back then, fifty years ago, she'd had the wisdom to see that these were the words that had given her beloved mother, Doña Guadalupe, the strength to rise up like a mighty star and bring her familia back from the dead, time and again during that awful Mexican Revolution!
 

She could now see so clearly that these words "until death do us part" were the words that gave each and every woman the power, the vision to accept the Grace of God and gain the absolute conviction of mind...

Excerpted from Thirteen Senses © Copyright 2002 by Victor Villaseñor. Reprinted with permission by Rayo. All rights reserved.