Gather it Up

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I “inherited” the purses.  There may have been five.  There may have been more, but each one was filled with old emery boards, crumbled tissues, a pack of TicTac mints with varying amounts within, and a couple of pieces of chewing gum.  Almost each one had a pouch inside the zippered pocket in the lining.  The little white pouches have the words “My Rosary” stamped on the front.  I didn’t know my mom had so many rosaries.  I took the rosary I liked best, which is blue, and I put it in my own purse, right inside the zippered pocket.  Before the blue rosary went in, the white rosary came out.  The white rosary was a First Communion present from my godfather and his wife.  I transferred my rosary to a little wooden box.  It stays there until I gather it up, along with a frayed pamphlet entitled “How to Say the Rosary.” 

I’ve recently noticed that the beads of my rosary look worn.  The stones are soft and smooth.  The chain between is soft too.  It is the one I’ve been using since second grade.  I’ve never prayed the rosary with any of my mom’s rosaries.  There’s no reason why I haven’t.  I just like mine, and I’ll use it as long as I can.

I kept all the pouches and the rosaries I found in the purses.  Those rosaries stay in my desk beside the Bible Mom had.  I kept the black purse Mom crocheted, but I didn’t like the others because they were not my style.  They were either too big or looked like snake skin.  Those went into the donation pile to be appreciated by someone else.

You might wonder why my mom and I had the custom of keeping rosaries in our purses.  Mom might have told me it was something I should do, but I don’t remember her telling me.  Maybe I was following her example, like little kids do.  Rosaries can be thought of as protection.  Moms and Our Lady want to protect us, plus you never know if or when you might need a rosary to say prayers.  It’s comforting to know Mom’s rosary is always with me, in case I need to gather it up.

The Little Sisters of the Poor are looking for a million of the faithful to pray the rosary everyday for an end to the pandemic.  If you have time and feel called, you should check it out!  Here is a link to their website: http://www.littlesistersofthepoor.org.  As of today, a little over 12,000 people have signed up.  I’m sure many have been praying for the end of this crisis, so let’s hope it’s over soon.

Let us run to Mary, and, as her little children, cast ourselves into her arms
with a perfect confidence. ~ Saint Francis de Sales

Advertisement

That’s One Thing My Mother Taught Me

“I have to go to physical therapy,” I said to my Mom.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I have a herniated disc.”

“That dog is too much for you,” she said.

“Oh, no, that’s not it,” I said.

One day, after trying to get out of bed, I realized that I couldn’t bend.  There was a pain that went from my bum to the back of my knee.  I couldn’t figure out what it might be.  Since the pain came and went for quite a while, I decided to go seek medical attention.  The doctor prescribed physical therapy, and after about four sessions, I felt much better.  The physical therapist said that my problem could have been caused by a bunch of different things combined.

Mom’s words still echo in my head when Lila pulls me along on our walks.  Even though I am starting to feel much better, I still feel that nagging little pain in the rear when she pulls me along.  Other things can bring a dull ache too, but being pulled this way does not help me feel better.  I have been working with Lila and am trying to teach her not to pull me along so much.  We learned this skill at the class that we took at the Animal Humane Society.  The trick is to stop walking when the dog starts pulling.  The dog turns around and looks like you have some sort of problem.  Lila hasn’t quite figured out why I keep stopping on our walks.  My rear and I hope that someday soon she will walk with me instead of pull me along.

The other day Mom wasn’t feeling very well.  I told her that I thought she might have overdone it when she was working in the garden.

“Oh, no, that’s not it,” she said.  “I don’t think so.”

It’s funny how we stick up for the things that make us happy.  That’s one thing my Mother taught me!