This short historical novel shows how, for 300 years, St Michael's sword hovered over the land of Mexico, waiting for God's command. Why? Because, from the day that the Spaniards landed in Veracruz until the cry of Dolores, the Lord was displeased with how people were being treated. Then the angel's blade fell and Mary's adopted son became as a dead man. At this point in history, the population between the gulf of Mexico and the Pacific Ocean felt like someone who had been buried alive. But the voice of the Holy One stood at the opening of the Spanish tomb, just as Jesus did before Lazarus was raised from the dead. In 1929, Mexico heard the voice of its Redeemer, walked out of its darkness and entered into the light of day, and the servants of the Good Shepherd slowly took off the linens of death, so that every soul south of the Rio Grande could breath fresh air again, enabling every village and hamlet to confess that Mexico's illness had never been fatal, just misdiagnosed. By 1947, Mexico City had learned to walk again, and the Aztecs and Mayans could hold hands as they recovered from centuries of misunderstanding, knowing that a nation cannot enter its glory unless it has learned to suffer - as they look to New Mexico to lead the way.