Oy, oy and double oy! It is terribly wet and dreary out today on my little Island, the Island of Staten that is, but that did not stop me from walking over to church for my adoration hours. My co-adorer for the 1:00 hour was there early today and I must say we were very bad. I am talking slap me on the wrist bad for once the 10-12 adorer left my cohort and I started to gab.......and gab......and gab. Now we were not talking about bad things or about other people we started talking because the Eucharist was like this x instead of like this + in the Monstrance. So I told her that when the mass was over in the church I would go and find the spare priest. (One says mass the other assists at Communion). From there we got into other things, dreams, experiences, Our Lady of Fatima, Our Lady of Kibeho and then she told me this freaky story that I am going to share here.
She works at a company that has all kinds of groups for their employees, ones for Italians, Africans, Crafters, Bereavement, etc. and she belongs to the Catholic group. Well, one of the men that is in the group is also a Deacon at his church, but he also volunteers for an institution that assists the mentally ill. One day, last week, when he was there he decided to visit a new patient, a young man. When he walked into the young man's room the guy's back was to him and he was staring at the wall. So the deacon went and sat behind him on the bed. Not sure what to do he just started to pray silently for the young man. (not out loud, not whispering, but in his head praying, no beads). All of a sudden the young man turned sharply and looked straight into the Deacon's face and said ''STOP PRAYING FOR ME!'' I asked my co-hort so what did he do? She said well we all asked him the same thing and he answered I got the hell outta there!! I would have done the same - whhhooooosh, out the door! My cohort, Diane, was totally freaked out by the story.
So I told her well I have something I can tell you that will make you feel better. When my mom was terminally ill some days she seemed to be existing in another world and sometimes ours. Any hospice worker will tell you that (as well as some other crazy stories). It is how the soul moves from one plane to the next. Anyway, on this one particular day my mom was unaware when I walked into her room. This was toward the end. I quietly sat down next to her, just to be there with her, and gently picked up crystal rosary beads she had on her dresser. They were small, just one decade, and I silently prayed while I waited for her to wake from that state she was in. I tried not to make any noise so as not to disturb her. When she finally did become aware of me about 20 minutes later, the light returned to her eyes and she looked at me and she said, ''they are very pleased with you; what you just did.'' At the time I was like uh, okay. Diane was like who? Did you ask her who was pleased? I told her no, it never occurred to me.
That is the kind of day it is today. The kind where you share strange stories, or yawn loudly as another in the chapel did. It is the kind of day to curl up with a good book, take a nap, or just spend the day with the family that you love playing board games or whatever in your comfy clothes or play clothes as I refer to them. Here is a real novel idea, pray together as a family. I remember doing that with my mom, dad and brothers when I was younger. Just imagine how much that will please God and the beings of light and really p.o. the other team.
Oh, and I when I went to ask the priest to fix the Eucharist in the Monstrance he said eh, it doesn't matter. I am going to email my other priest friend and ask him to do it. It does matter - to me.
Have a peaceful week!
Mare
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