I haven’t been sick in 35 years.
No flu, no colds, no blood pressure pills.
My vision is still clear. My thoughts are sharper now at 66 than they were at 40.
And no, I’m not selling anything.
I just want to tell you a story—about a root, an onion, and a promise I made to myself.
It started when I was 31.
My youngest daughter had just turned three. I remember because I couldn’t keep up with her anymore.
I was always tired. Always catching something. Head foggy, body heavy, joints stiff in the morning.
Doctors said, “It’s just stress.”
One said, “You’re not that young anymore.”
But I knew something was wrong. Not dramatic. Just off.
Like my body was whispering, “Help me.”
That’s when I went to visit my grandmother, Lourdes. She was 87 at the time. No medications. Still working in her garden barefoot, singing to her herbs.
She looked me over and said, “You’re not sick. You’re clogged.”
I didn’t understand.
She brought me into the kitchen and pulled out two things: a knobby piece of ginger and a large red onion.
“This is what your blood wants,” she said.
That night, she made a warm tonic with grated ginger, sliced red onion, lemon, and hot water.
She gave it to me before bed. It burned going down, but not in a bad way. Like fire in the best places—my chest, my nose, even behind my eyes.
I slept deeper than I had in months.
She told me to drink it every morning and night for three days. Then once a day after that.
By the third day, I woke up without pain in my knees.
By the seventh, my mind felt… quiet. Sharp.
And within two weeks, I noticed I hadn’t needed my antihistamines. Or my stomach meds.
That was 35 years ago.
I haven’t looked back.
Back then, no one believed in “natural remedies.”
My husband called it my “witch tea.”
Friends smiled politely, but you could see the doubt in their eyes.
I didn’t care.
I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I just wanted to feel alive again.
So I kept making it. Every morning. Rain or shine. Even on holidays.
And over time, people noticed.
I didn’t get sick when the rest of the family caught the flu.
I didn’t have seasonal allergies like I used to.
I had energy. I had clarity. I had peace.
Slowly, the questions started.
“What’s your secret?”
“What vitamins do you take?”
And I’d always answer the same: “Ginger and red onion. That’s it.”
My routine became sacred.
I would wake up before the kids.
Grate the ginger, slice the onion, boil the water.
The kitchen would fill with a strong, almost spicy aroma.
It smelled like health. Like resilience. Like home.
I’d pour myself a mug, wrap both hands around it, and sip slowly.
It wasn’t about rushing. It was about listening. To my body. To my breath.
Some mornings I added lemon.
Some mornings I added a touch of honey.
But the base stayed the same: ginger and red onion.
Over time, my skin started to glow again.
The whites of my eyes brightened.
My periods got easier. My digestion settled.
It didn’t happen overnight.
But it happened.
The real test came in the winter of ‘98.
Everyone around me was sick.
Stomach bugs. Coughs. Fevers.
Even my husband, who still didn’t believe in my “morning brew,” was knocked down for ten days.
But I stood strong.
I took care of everyone.
Made soup. Cleaned sheets. Held hair back over toilets.
And never once felt a single symptom.
That’s when my husband finally asked, “Can you make me a cup of your tea?”
He didn’t say it loud. But I heard it.
I believe you now.
From that day on, we drank it together.
Every morning. Side by side.
And he hasn’t missed a day since.
I’ve passed this recipe down to everyone who’s ever asked.
My cousin Isela, who used to get migraines every week, says she hasn’t had one in months since starting it.
My neighbor Julio, who struggled with high blood pressure, told me his readings dropped by 20 points in a month.
My daughter, now a mother herself, makes it every morning for her two little boys.
They call it “Grandma’s Super Juice.”
Even though I’m not a grandma who wears capes, they think I’m some kind of superhero.
Maybe because I can chase them around the yard faster than their mom.
Here’s the recipe I always give:
– 1 thumb-sized piece of fresh ginger, peeled and grated
– ½ red onion, thinly sliced
– Juice of half a lemon (optional)
– 1 cup hot (not boiling) water
– Let it steep for 10 minutes
– Strain and sip slowly
If you’re just starting, you can add a teaspoon of honey to cut the heat.
But after a while, your body craves the bite.
That spice? That’s healing.
That’s nature waking you up.
One of the most beautiful things I’ve learned is this:
You don’t need to feel broken to begin healing.
You just need to listen.
To your gut. To your breath. To the quiet parts of you that whisper, “We need help.”
And you don’t have to go far.
You probably have what you need in your kitchen already.
This tonic—this simple, powerful drink—taught me that wellness doesn’t have to be expensive or complicated.
It just has to be consistent. Honest. Natural.
I’ve lived through raising three kids, two job losses, heartbreaks, funerals, and even a pandemic.
Still haven’t been sick.
And every single morning, I give thanks.
To my grandmother, who passed it on.
To the roots and bulbs that keep me strong.
To the body that still wakes up hungry for health.
This ritual gave me back myself.
And I’ll never stop sharing it.
So if you’re tired of being tired…
If your head feels foggy, your joints feel stiff, or your energy feels gone…
Start here.
Make this tea. Just for one week.
No big promises. Just a chance to remember what well feels like.
What alive feels like.
And if it helps—keep going.
If it doesn’t—at least you tried something real.
But I have a feeling it will help.
Because this recipe has walked beside me for 35 years.
And I’ve never once felt alone. Or unwell.
If you read this and thought of someone you love—send this to them.
If it reminded you of your grandmother’s wisdom—share it.
Because healing doesn’t belong in a bottle.
It belongs in a mug, shared between generations, passed hand to hand.
And the best kind of health?
It starts in your own kitchen.
Please like and share this post if it touched your heart.
You never know who might need it more than you know. 🌿🧅💛
