I just read that on May 6, 1961, on a terrace of the Cuban Institute of Friendship with the Peoples (ICAP), it was Celia who coordinated with Fidel that the Ecuadorian painter Oswaldo Guayasamín could make the first of four portraits of the Cuban leader. I return, then, to confirm the silent way of this woman to be in unimagined places and give way to the fruitful, creative and imperishable; that’s how Celia was all her life.

Out of absolute attachment to the truth, and because of her habit of giving toys to the poor children of Media Luna on Three Kings Day, she was baptized as Celia Esther de los Desamparados, and to this day that sign of goodness comes in stories that feed the popular imagination.

To the woman who seemed to be nourished by nature and plummeting down the mountain, like a waterfall, until fructifying at the top of Turquino, in hiding, in the guerrillas … in the Revolution; we dedicate these minutes of sounds, music, silence and voice.

Author: Naily Barrientos Matos