"On Good Friday night, when I had wormed my way to a different segment of Sierpes (Street of the serpents), across from a corner bar which had closed in honor of the procession, I watched as an ordinary man pressed in against the wall, shook himself free when one of the great virgins approached. Staring, as if transfixed by the statue, this man threw back his head and poured forth a simple, unadorned song in praise of this mother. It was an extraordinary song, more moving than the first, for it was uttered rather than sung professionally. It was an offering from this man to this intercessor, and it was volunteered in humility and deep feeling. Its authenticity impressed the marchers and they stood at solemn attention as the singer's voice grew stronger and his cry more fervent. Then suddenly he stopped and returned as if in embarrassment, to his former position against the wall. The wooden staves with their iron rings beat against the pavement of Sierpes and the procession continued."