MAURICIO: My daughter, the biggest problem in my life was that I've run away from the word of God. You know that He observes us and that He writes everything in his private agenda. Your Mother and I sinned. We failed to follow the commandments. It's not our fault. The universe put us to a test. We let ourselves into the mirage of material wealth and we sinned. The first time was there in the mountains where we were born. I've never spoken to you about this. Your mother and I grew up together on the same farm. I can't go into details because it is so long ago that I don't remember. There was a civil war. There was a bloody civil war which tried to wipe out a dictator of equal dimensions. Beheading was the word, even of children. There, in our America, blood began to run as if Herod were resurrected. One day, the news arrived that the guerrillas wanted to let the world know that they were the force behind our town. Father, who was one of them, commanded us to mount two horses and he tied your mother and me to the saddles. That's how we started our descent from the mountains toward the sea. We arrived there almost dehydrated. After that, days passed filled with anguish in which we were taken from one place to another. We crossed country boundaries, everywhere they spoke our language. At an early age, we learned that ice and fire are temporary accidents. Your mother has not written to me. Neither she nor I have any idea of the time that we'll have to spend behind bars. But I want you to know and I would like you to reassure your mother about this when you see her, that from now on, I'll give myself to propagate the word of God. (MAURICIO stands and vows.) And besides this, giving all diligence, add to your faith, virtue; and to virtue, knowledge and godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, charity. (MAURICIO genuflects. Blackout.)
A week later at Fort Tyron Park. CLAUDIA and CARLOS look at the Hudson River and plan what they want to do with their lives. At a distance we hear the final notes of a soprano singing "O Patria Mia," from the opera Aida, then the applause.