Mother Death: A Prayer & Reflection

Mother Death: A Prayer & Reflection

Prayer to Santa Muerte

Thank you, Madre mía, for being there when I was close to falling.

Thank you for giving me the love I never knew as a child.

Thank you for watching over me, every single day.

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Mother Death Came to Me

I’m not Mexican by birth—but La Santa Muerte, the Holy Death, came to me by herself. I didn’t go looking. She arrived when I was broken, when I needed something real. Over time, our bond deepened. Now, she stands as the patroness of my shrine. Nothing passes through my life without her presence, without her knowing.

When you give your life to La Muerte, you begin to feel a kind of love even your own mother may not have been able to give you. She becomes the one who sees you—all of you—and doesn’t turn away. She accepts the shadow and the light. She doesn’t demand perfection. She demands truth.

And in return, she gives everything.

Not immediately. She won’t wave away all your problems in a blink. But when she shows up, she makes it known:

"Don’t worry—I’m taking care of this."

And she does.

She pushes you to grow. She holds you through the dark nights when no one else can. She speaks through silence and shows herself in synchronicities, dreams, the scent of roses where there should be none, the flicker of a candle just as your tears fall.

She is la flaca, the skinny one. She is mother, protector, destroyer, and guide. And in her presence, there is peace—deep, raw, and real.

I didn’t inherit this devotion. I built it. One offering, one prayer, one surrender at a time.

She is with me.

She is in me.

She is watching over all who dare to love her.

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If you're walking with Santa Muerte, know this:

You’re not alone.

And when you offer your devotion, she listens.

Light your candle.

Pour your water.

Speak your truth.

And trust her to carry you through the fire.

Arcana Noire