Late bloom in Mary’s garden

For many of us, life can take on a faded pallor in the absence of our moms. But there’s one lesson Mom imbued well – never forget the rosary. Pray it, no matter what. There’s no protection, intercession, and advocating like Mary’s.

Did we take it to heart? Not so much. We saw Mom as a zealot without the social calendar we had. She insisted we say the rosary as a family before dinner. My brother and I would glare at each other, eying the chilling meat and vegetables, like they were slow-torturing us. We’d bark the repetitions, stare at the ceiling, and sigh obnoxiously when it was finished. In hindsight, I realize that we hurt our mother, and we hurt Our Lady. But like the best Mother, she would patiently await our maturity… even if it might take decades.

Thankfully, those seeds ran deep and have re-germinated after Mom and Dad have gone.

Now to be fair, we were immersed in the ‘70s lifeis-good attitude in the Church, where devotions like the rosary were often shelved. They didn’t fit our demeanor, Motown cars, and bell bottoms. We went to Doobie Brothers concerts and the guitar Mass on Sundays. No rosaries there.

And we didn’t get strong foundational teaching on the rosary, even in Catholic school – like why the rosary exists, where it came from, and why it is so supernaturally remarkable. We just thought Mom and Dad were like cultish European streetprocessors, trying to turn us into fanatics. When friends knocked at the door, we’d grab the ministatues, prayer books, and rosaries, ram them into a drawer, and run straight out.

We escaped all right … not yet seeing the abyss.

Lesson time. We enrolled our eldest in the parish school, and in first grade he came home with a reminder. “Look, Mommy; we made rosaries,” he said, pulling the blue-crystal strand from his pencil case. “Would you say it with me?” It had been 15 years since I’d said a rosary, and had forgotten entirely. “Don’t worry, Mommy,” he continued, “we have rosary booklets, too.”

I thumbed through, struck by the meditations and gorgeous art-renderings of Christ’s face, Mary as mother, and the Holy Family. I was heartsick … it came flooding back, those evenings praying as a family. He watched me with his wide brown eyes, waiting.

God lets our children rework our heart when it needs some reconstruction. And so I began again.

I read St. Louis de Montfort’s The Secret of the Rosary and other books, and realized my parents were right-on – there are amazing promises from Our Mother on her rosary. I researched her 13th-century apparitions to St. Dominic, why she introduced him to the rosary, and her promises for each person, the Church, and the world. So incredible was this protective Mother whom Christ has gifted to us.

The rosary has reordered my daily life. It’s the greatest anti-stress treatment, and my appeals are often answered before I put them into words. ‘Bring flowers of the rarest’ to our sweet Heavenly Mother. And a rosary in gratitude for our incredible mom.

CHRISTINE VALENTINE-OWSIK  is Legatus magazine’s Editor.