It is hard not to remember, today, on the 41st anniversary of her death, the young woman who organized life-saving support for the Granma expeditionaries; who became the first to wear olive green in the Sierra; and left her imprint on so much of the Revolution’s work
Our national flag at half mast, a gray Friday and rain in the capital, were the prelude to the terrible news that no one wanted to hear on that January 11, 1980.
The feminine “heart” of the Revolution had stopped beating; an entire people were deprived of the kindness, tenderness, rebellion and simplicity of a woman, everyone’s godmother, who was physically gone, only to become a flower, a breeze, an unforgettable memory, a living presence.
Death is mistaken, if it believes that more than four decades have made a dent in this nation’s memory of Celia Sanchez.
It is impossible to forget the young girl from Media Luna who joined her father Manuel – an honorable doctor – helping to heal the poor. The same girl who climbed Turquino Peak on José Martí’s centenary to honor the Apostle.
It is hard not to remember, today, the young woman who, in the underground battle against the dictatorship, devised ingenious plans like placing messages wrapped in cigarettes, even inside a cake; or inventing a pregnant woman’s belly to outwit authorities.
The same young woman who organized life-saving support for the Granma expeditionaries; the first woman to wear olive green in the Sierra; the person with the foresight to record and collect, on scraps of paper, the history of the war; and became light for Fidel, not a shadow.
The imprint of her efforts is indelible wherever the Revolution’s new ideas took shape, in Lenin Park, the Coppelia Ice Cream Palace, the Convention Center, the Council of State’s Office of Historical Affairs, schools and workshops, just to mention a few.
She was a National Assembly member who took better care of her people than her own health. A member of the Party Central Committee who won the affection of millions with her work, humility and unparalleled dedication.
If “detail” needed a name it would be hers. If “modesty” needed a name it would be hers. If serving as an example could be measured, it would be enough to think of her life.
Although we refer to her in many ways, Heroine of the Sierra and the Plains, Cuba’s most autochthonous flower, tireless guerrillera, it is enough to say Celia, to make clear that she is simply eternal.
(Taken from Granma)