La Llorona: Encounters with the Weeping Woman
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About this ebook
Spanish speakers around the world for generations have told stories of La Llorona, "the weeping woman," and the many versions of this legendary phantom woman vary from one region to the next. In this book of fifty-six stories shared by people from the American Southwest as well as south of the border, there are dozens of versions of this ghostly specter that range from a terrifying skeletal creature with blood dripping from its eyes to a baby with fangs wrapped in a quilt -- but no matter what she looks like, she nearly always manages to terrorize her wayward victims into changing their ways.
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La Llorona - Judith Beatty
EMILIO VIGIL, A gambler from Las Vegas, Nevada, told this story to me:
"Before the big casinos were built and developed for the gamblers in Las Vegas, the old timers used to gamble in old shacks. The laborers that used to work in this area would spend their time playing blackjack, poker—things like that. At the time this happened it was in the 1940s. This man, a Mr. Gutierrez, and four or five other men were playing cards in one of these old shacks, and some lady came in, very young, very pretty, and she sat down and started gambling with them. It wasn’t often that these men ever got to see a young beautiful woman, and this one wasn’t like the so-called ladies of the street. She seemed quiet and refined and just expressed a simple and humble interest in joining them at cards. She said something to the effect that gambling was a weakness of hers and she didn’t indulge very often.
"She was good, let me tell you. She played the cards like a real professional, and she was flirting with the men at the same time. Well, she cleaned a lot of them out! She sort of left them naked, if you know what I mean. Some men would come in, sit down, and twenty minutes later they would lose their money to her and have to leave.
"After a while, this lady started to tap her foot on Mr. Gutierrez’s shoe. She did it just a little, so he wasn’t sure if she was doing it on purpose to flirt with him or if it was an accident because she was sitting so close to him at this small table. Being a vain man, however, Mr. Gutierrez figured that she was probably interested in seeing him after the game and was trying to get his attention. So he lifted up the tablecloth to look down at her foot, which was hidden by her long black skirt. At first, he thought that he was seeing things, but then he realized it was not a shoe, but a hoof. Like a deer. It took him a minute to realize that this had to be the La Llorona that everyone had been talking about. She had been seen all around the shacks and some said she had a cloven hoof."
Anyway, Mr. Gutierrez told me that he finished playing his hand in the game very quickly. He had already won a lot of money, but he didn’t want to stay another minute!
Victor Cortez
Santa Fe, NM
I HAVE LIVED in Santa Fe all my life, except for when I was a baby and lived in Ranchos de Taos about a half mile from the San Francisco de Asis Mission Church, which was built by the Franciscan Fathers in the late 1700s. The church is in a plaza with fortified walls that were to protect people from the Comanche Indians, who did raids all around New Mexico for many years and did an attack on Taos in 1760. Inside the church, there is a painting of our Lord Jesus Christ. When they turn out the lights, a cross appears on the painting over Jesus’s shoulder. Experts have studied this phenomenon, but no one can explain it.
My family settled in Taos in the 1500s. We are descendants of Josefa Jaramillo, who married Kit Carson. In fact, at the Kit Carson Museum in Taos, you can see a picture of her and she looks just like my mom, even down to the white streak in her hair.
In the older days, it was Spanish tradition for women to inherit and own land; in fact, women had most of the wealth. The story that has been passed down through my family is that when Kit Carson married Josefa, who was only fourteen and the daughter of wealthy Mexican parents, her inheritance fell under his control in accordance with the tradition of the gringos. There are many places in northern New Mexico named after Kit Carson, and he has a reputation for being a mountain man among the gringos. If you talk to others, especially the Navajo people, you will hear the true story of his villainous ways when he forced thousands of Navajos to walk 300 miles to Fort Sumner from Canyon de Chelly during the Civil War, and destroyed their herds and their crops and everything they owned.
When I was small, my grandmother and my mother used to say that La Llorona was a woman without a husband and liked to party all the time and leave her two children alone at home. She had married very young and her husband had left her with these two kids, and she began to resent them because they restricted her freedom. She would look at herself in the mirror and check for lines around her eyes and mouth and say to herself, I’ve got to get my hands on another man soon before I lose my good looks.
She was real vain and selfish and would spend hours applying makeup and fixing her hair.
One night, this woman got drunk and decided her kids were too much of a problem for her. She couldn’t find anybody to care for them, so she just took them for a walk along the river and left them there. Nowadays I guess you would call her a psychopath. Anyway, not long after that, she got real sick with some mysterious illness and finally realized she was going to die. So while she was lying in bed waiting to die, El Angel de la Muerte—the Angel of Death—came down and said to her, You can’t die until you find your children.
So sick as she was, she got out of bed and left the house, never to return. And her soul has not rested and it will never rest until she finds her children, and since they drowned, she is always walking along the arroyos and rivers looking for them.
Rose Martinez
Santa Fe, NM
Children dear, come sit by my side,
so about La Llorona you may hear.
Also, how she lost her pride
and went all over seeking her lost child
without a lover.
This story is mild, for La Llorona’s