OUR LADY OF THE LACTIC PUDDLE
CRYING OVER SPILT MILK!
They've come from far and wide, clutching rosaries and cameras, jostling to peer through the afternoon heat at an improbable shrine on the cement floor of a Houston apartment complex. In the midst of wilting roses, candles and crosses, they say, the Virgin of Guadalupe reveals herself to the faithful in an amorphous stain of melted ice cream. To unfaithful eyes, the crusty smear looks about as earthshaking as, well, a melted popsicle. But ecstatic believers swear they can discern the form of the beloved Mexican idol. Gloria Castro, 47, made her way to the front of the crowd, crossed herself and burst into tears.``She knows that we need her,'' she said. ``I had to see her, I had to pray to her.''
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