We were devotees to the Nazarene of Quiapo a long time ago. We believe that the Nazarene helped me get well from a lingering illness when I was small.
We religiously went to the church every Friday. After which, we went to the Grandstand in Luneta (remember the Luneta Hostage Massacre, yes... the same place) to play and then capped the night with a snack at IR, a restaurant owned by a family friend, the Cedillas in Libertad, Pasay. I guess we stopped doing this ritual when the family decided to move to Moonwalk, Paranaque during my High School years.
My mom called me at work today and prodded me, almost pleading, to immediately go to Sta Clara. The Black Nazarene, she said was visiting and this was the opportunity to see, be with and touch the Nazarene again. I went, said my prayers, wiped my hanky on its feet and hand and snapped this picture.
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