As if reading Oscar’s mind, Mamá said, “Do you remember the outfit I sewed for you when you were a little boy and a church dignitary visited?”
Oscar shook his head. “I must have been too young. I always liked to play priest, though.”
“You borrowed my aprons to wrap around your shoulders as a robe.” Mamá smiled.
“Playing priest” was a common childhood activity, and it was little Oscar’s favorite make-believe. Wearing his apron “cassock,” Oscar created altars on chairs and “said mass” or “gave Communion.” Sometimes he called his friends to march in a pretend saint’s day procession. In their play-acting, Oscar reserved the role of priest for himself.
As he grew older, Oscar followed Father Cecilio Morales around. He eventually became an altar boy, and the priest gave him duties, such as ringing the church bells. Oscar stopped in the church to pray at least once a day.
In reality, however, the Romero children did not enjoy much play time. They had to help their parents with household chores and a patchwork of activities to supply their basic needs. Don Santos received a small income for running the telegraph office, as did Niña Jesus for managing the town’s mail service. Niña Jesus, an adept seamstress, also sewed clothes for neighbors.
“El Pulgo”
Don Santos farmed some 104 acres of fertile land acquired from his father-in-law.11 It was located along the skirt of the nearby volcano, some two to three miles from the family home. Since at least 1880, coffee had replaced indigo as El Salvador’s “king crop,” and Don Santos planted coffee bushes in the shade of the slope’s oak trees, as well as some cacao, coconut palms, and nance, a type of fruit tree.
The boys hiked to the small farm, which Don Santos named “El Pulgo,”12 to help their father. Coffee was a fussy crop in certain seasons. Oscar and his brothers cleared weeds and helped prune the bushes and pick the ripe red berries. Leaving the farm, Papá gave each boy a piece of firewood to carry home for the cookstove.13
At least the Romero children were spared the burden of handcarting water from a spring to their home. In 1918, Papá had connected his house to the town’s water supply. Mamá and the girl she hired to help scrub clothes were blessed with water piped into the home.
The running water and an indoor bathroom were the family’s only modern conveniences, however. The town had no electricity. They lit a kerosene lamp for a couple hours each night, and Papá often read to the children then.
Later that day, Oscar held his head high as he entered the church in the central plaza for Father Monroy’s mass. He had worked with others to clean the sanctuary, and townswomen decorated it with sprays of flowers.
Oscar frequently stopped in this Ciudad Barrios church to pray. (1998 photo, Emily Will)
Following the service, the town mayor, Alfonso Leiva, called Oscar to speak with him and the two visitors.
“This young man has been interested in God’s work since he was a cipote, a little lad,” Mayor Leiva told the vicar-general and Father Calvo. “He’s bright and would make a fine priest.”
The vicar-general turned to Oscar. “Tell us about your education.”
“The minor seminary requires a solid foundation,” Father Calvo added. Oscar knew the priest taught at the minor seminary, or preseminary, in San Miguel city.
“I attended the public school here.” Oscar cast his gaze to the ground.
“Were you a good student?” the vicar-general asked.
“Maestra Anita said I was,” Oscar said quietly.
“The public school goes only through grade three,” the mayor informed the vicar and priest.
“Oh?” Father Calvo said. “Oscar had only three years of school?”
“No,” the mayor quickly replied. “His parents asked Anita Iglesias, the local teacher, to give Oscar private lessons for three additional years. Two hours a day.”
“I went to the school for the extra classes in the afternoons after the younger children left,” Oscar said.
“What’s more,” Mayor Leiva said, “Oscar enjoys music. He’s learned how to play his father’s flute.”
Aspirations
“An impressive achievement.” The vicar smiled at Oscar. “What do you say, Oscar? Do you want to become a priest? Learn the Gregorian chants?”
“I’ve always dreamt I would be a priest.”
“How about your parents? What do they say about your hopes?” the vicar-general asked.
“I don’t know if Papá would like it,” Oscar said. “He’s apprenticed me to a carpenter.”
“To my brother Juan,” Mayor Leiva put in.
While Oscar was dutiful in serving as Juan Leiva’s apprentice, sawing boards to fashion tables, doors, and coffins wasn’t what he envisioned for his future.
“Jesus worked as a carpenter before he began his ministry,” the vicar said. “You’d be following his example. And how about your mother?”
“She would like me to be a priest, if that’s what I want,” Oscar replied.
“Let’s talk with Don Santos later,” the mayor said to the vicar and Father Calvo. “It’s a big commitment to send a son off for many years of schooling.”
The mayor turned to Oscar. “We’ll see what your Papá has to say.”
“Thank you.” Oscar had no idea how Papá would respond to the idea. His going off to study would mean Oscar would not bring any income into the household. What’s more, he’d create new expenses for his parents.
After the churchmen left to return to San Miguel, Papá spoke with Oscar. “They’ve offered you a half scholarship,” he said. “The mayor speaks highly of your abilities and hard work.”
“Can we afford the other half of the tuition?” Oscar asked.
“It’ll be difficult, but we’ll give it a try. Father Calvo thought I’d be able to pay in coffee beans.”
“Thank you, Papá. I won’t disappoint you.” Oscar set his firm jaw in determination.
“Father Calvo left a list of clothing and other items you’ll need to take,” Papá said. “He’ll be back early next year and you’ll return to San Miguel with him.”
In the weeks ahead, Oscar thought about the people in his life who made it possible for him to follow his dream.
Papá, for one. Oscar chafed less at Papá’s iron hand at the helm of the household than did his brothers.14 Oscar feared Papá, but he was naturally obedient and therefore avoided some of the punishments Papá imposed. He also recognized how Papá gave them advantages not available to most other village children. He read books to them, encouraged their love of music, and taught them skills such as Morse code. He had taken time to teach Oscar how to read music and play an instrument.
Then there was Mamá, patient and understanding, who involved herself with each of her children.15 She modeled kindness. Whenever poor people came by the house, she invited them in for coffee, never looking down on those less fortunate. Oscar hoped to show such faith and charity.