In the heart of the old Santa Rita town,
Where copper veins run underground,
Stands a tale of love and faith, profound,
Of Sister Maria Ester, forever enshrined.

Missionary sisters came from lands afar,
To serve the Lord amongst life's scars.
In this humble brigade shone a star,
Beautiful Maria Ester, whose grace none could mar.

Her beauty is divine, with a radiant glow,
Yet more enchanting, her spirit's flow.
Helping the poor, love she'd sow,
In every heart, she left warmth to grow.

Yet, love can be a challenging plight,
For a soldier fell for her holy light.
A love unrequited, a perilous fight,
His heart's despair, a sorrowful sight.

Unable to bear the town's scornful glare,
She was blamed for the tragic affair.
For a sin uncommitted, a cross to bear,
Maria Ester's heart was in anguished tears.

On Christmas Eve, clad in white,
She fled her fate, climbed the mountain height,
Her robe was bloodied under the moon's light,
In utter despair, she prayed in the night.

“O Lord,” she cried, a prayer earnest and deep,
“Against all wrong, my soul to keep,
Lift this burden, so heavy, so steep,
Let me serve you in faith, sincere and meek.”

A star shone bright overhead,
A beam of silver on Maria Ester spread.
Next morning, of the sister, no trace or thread,
In her memory, only remorse and dread.

Yet, those who believed saw nature's role,
A kneeling nun shaped in the rock, standing tall.
A silent prayer, an eternal call,
A miracle etched in the canyon wall.

A testament to Sister Maria Ester's name,
The Kneeling Nun stands in timeless fame,
Under her star, in silver light's frame,
Each Christmas, her legacy we reclaim.