This Holy Week I took my Mother's Rosary out of my purse. My sister who cared for her before she died gave it me, this recent trip. She asked if I wanted to take it. Want it? Yes, please, but was she sure? She smiled and said yes. The entire trip back, through airport mishaps, canceled flights, unexpected stops along the way and tear-stained airline counters, I held tight to my purse, knowing all along I was carrying a priceless treasure. Something unimaginably valuable.
I didn't really take it out of my purse until this Holy Week. I've spent a lot of time in the chapel at church as Fr. said Morning Prayer with us every day, plus mass, rosary, confession etc during the week.
I took it out and started praying. It's a hefty, strong, well-used rosary. I began noticing the little things, the beads, the wrap-around chain style (probably the reason it is still intact), the weight of this treasure. As I fingered the beads and the Hail Marys succeeded one another, I began thinking of what my Mother would have prayed for. All of the obvious petitions came to mind: my siblings, my father, moves, people who surrounded her with their needs, my grandmother, my aunt.
And then it took my breath away, the thought of her holding those same beads, filled with faith and petition, praying for me. Asking God for me, that He would guide me, protect me, light my way. And that I would respond to His call during this life.
I will never be worthy enough to hold these beads, owned previously by a person who was my model and example. But then again we aren't, any of us, worthy of God's love and forgiveness, and here we are, members of a spiritual royal family. This Easter, my hearts overflows with gratitude and love.