At the Heart of Many Cuban Homes
HAVANA TIMES – In many Cuban homes, an image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus can still be found. When I asked about it, the owners told me:
“That picture belonged to my mother.”
“I inherited it from my grandmother.”
“It has always been there.”
There is something revealing in those answers: over time, the picture seems to have become another member of the family.
Perhaps it has survived moves, deaths, economic crises, political changes, and entire generations. And, in some cases, even the loss of religious practice itself.
For Catholics, the Sacred Heart of Jesus has a very specific meaning: it represents the heart of Christ as a symbol of his love for humanity, a love that gives of itself and makes sacrifices.
In Cuba, these images have endured a particularly complex history. For decades, religious practice was pushed to the margins, and, at different times, subjected to restrictions and various forms of discrimination and repression, while atheism occupied a central place in public life and education. Even so, faith continued to survive in private, often passed down from parents to children, from grandparents to grandchildren.
Perhaps that is why these images speak of something that goes beyond religion. They speak of what one generation chooses to pass on to the next, even when what is passed down is no longer practiced in the same way.
But what exactly do we inherit? A faith? A tradition? A need for protection? The memory of someone who is no longer here? Or simply the human need to hold on to something that once represented hope?
We live in difficult times, marked by shortages, power outages, uncertainty, separation, emigration, and loss. And in the face of all this, we still need something that allows us to make it through the day and reach the next one.
We do not always know what to call whatever it is that sustains us. Sometimes it is simply there, at the heart of a home.