Krazy Glue and the Seven Pop Sticks

Krazy Glue and the Seven Pop Sticks

By Mario A Hernandez

I am Mario, the third of five siblings. My sister Marla, and my brother Jesus Jr, whom we call Tato, are six and five years older than me, and I am four and five years older than Maire and Mirelle. The perfect sandwich. My father's name is Jesus, like our Lord, but they call him Chuy, and my mother's name is Maria del Carmen, like the virgin. It doesn't get more biblical than that.

By the way, my three sisters' names mean Maria in different languages, and I got named after my grandmother, Maria. Sometimes I wonder why they didn't name me Joseph.

Anyhow, I have always been like Krazy Glue in our family, fixing things for my older siblings, taking the heat for the younger ones, organizing family trips, events, come what may. However, a few years ago, I lost them. To be more exact, I was going through hell; I had just gotten divorced, lost my job, my daughter got accepted to NYU, and I couldn't help her. To top it off, my parents disagreed with my divorce, and my siblings were on their side more or less. I asked for help, but there was none.

Out of desperation, anger, and fear, I got involved in criminal activity to make money and show them all that they were wrong—Italy, Iceland, Moet, and caviar. Whatever my kids needed, they had. I had the life, at least that's what I thought until I got arrested. I was working for the wrong boss. This lousy boss made sure I lost everyone dear to me and everything I had.

The devil is a liar, and he will steal, kill and destroy you if you give him a second of your attention. I was close to being dead to my family, and I felt like dying, but I found Jesus Christ in a cell that same day. He told me; I know the way back to life. Remember? Follow me. I followed.

After my arrest, the family took a big blow, and we got dispersed like sheep without a shepherd. It had been three years since we were together. Still, I remembered how Joseph went to prison and many tribulations to help his people in later years and that I always had been the Krazy Glue of my family. Still, nobody listened to me anymore, so I prayed and got paid. I love being on the payroll of the King of Kings.

A month ago, the seven of us gathered at my parents' house to have dinner. That night at the table, there was tension. Many things came out within the family after my arrest. What had been a beautiful family was being held apart by a dark spirit. Then I remembered a story my grandpa told me about what he did when his family was fighting amongst themselves, and they were about to lose their land. I asked my mother for sticks or pencils, and she got me a bag of pop sticks. I gave each one a pop stick and told them to break it if they could, which they did very quickly. My brother started to laugh, mocking me, but my dad said to him -Pay attention. I know where he is going-. For the first time in years, my dad looked at me with loving eyes.

Then I got one new pop stick for each of us, glued them together -yes with Krazy Glue- and asked if anybody could break the seven glued pop sticks. My intrepid younger sister Mirelle went first. She tried really hard, making all kinds of funny faces and her body contorting, but she couldn't. Marla tried shyly, saying and laughing simultaneously- I can't. She just wanted to be part of the game. Maire, quietly and slightly smiling, said she didn't want to try, and then Tato immediately grabbed them.

-I'll do it. - Said my brother in a loud voice, but after huffing and puffing like the wolf and the three little pigs, he stopped and looked at me and said - I can't. What's your point?

And there was silence after that. My dad started to talk with tears in his eyes.

He asked me -My papa told you that story?

I nodded.

Then he added -it's easy to break a pop stick, but not if they are together. We are family. If we are together, nothing can harm us, or should I say, "break us." We started laughing.

My brother opened a bottle of wine, I passed the bread, and my father gave the blessings. We enjoyed each other again as we did back when we were children: my father, my mother, my sisters, my brother, and I. Thank you, Jesus, this is over.