The little girl walks fast,
Pulled by the hand she holds,
She makes every effort she can,
To climb the steep road that unfolds.
There's people everywhere,
Some on foot and some on ponies,
Some deeply pious,
Some deeply phonies.
Chanting the name,
Of the Goddess they are going to meet,
Tired but excited,
Climbing the road so steep.
The little girl is afraid,
Her eyes scanning the crowd,
So many people,
But not one she knows anything about.
Suddenly she stumbles,
And almost falls,
"Mommy "
By instinct she calls.
She starts to cry,
Anticipating the hard land,
But she's held up,
By the firm hand.
The hand that picks her up,
And wipes tears off her face,
Holds her in her arms,
And gives her solace.
The girl is comforted,
And is carried off in sleep,
By the arms that hold her snugly,
And the legs that feel a little weak.
Is there a better feeling,
Than sleeping in your mother's lap like the child ?
Is there a better face,
Than the one that makes you smile?
To meet the Goddess,
Why travel distances so great ?
When all you have to do,
Is to open the adjacent room's gate?
Is there a better devotion,
Than to serve your Godess well?
Keep giving her joy,
For time that only God can tell...