Roses, Religion, and Realizing Faith…

Somewhere between childhood and becoming a teenager, I found my faith.  This was not some small thing where I went about my life and had my parents continuously talk about their faith until it hit me, although they did do that and continue to do that from the moment I can remember.  This was something that I had found all on my own, through my own means, and with my entire life that had been thrown at me…and not in any pleasant way.  I was raised Catholic - went to Catholic school starting in preschool all the way through most of college.  My parents were both raised Catholic and I was the second child, and first daughter of five children, all raised Catholic.  I was baptized when I was an infant, received my First Reconciliation in first grade, received my First Communion in second grade, and learned about my religion every day of my life from birth.  My parents were less than pleased when I failed religion class in seventh grade, but that was only because of specific memorization that I have never been able to do without seeing the words and phrases.  Having a photographic memory helps only if they allow you to see what you are memorizing instead of just listening to people say it over and over again.

I had a pretty rough grade school experience.  I have always been shy, even if I don’t show it very much, and have always had a hard time making friends.  My best friend from kindergarten is the only person I still consider my one true friend for my life - my husband being the only other person I trust with my life.  I was lost through most of my grade school years because my best friend moved to a different school after second grade.  My parents were never crazy about any of my friends, so when she left, they were happy and didn’t try very hard to let us get together.  My grade school was composed of either Italians or Irish and anyone not of one of those nationalities was an outcast.  I was of neither descent and an outcast.  My only reprieve was my friend..until she moved.  I spent my third grade year in daily tears.  In fourth grade, I found my calling and spent any free time in the kindergarten class volunteering.  The teacher, Mrs. Reardon, had been my first grade teacher and I loved how accepting she was of everyone.  I worked with her until after I had moved to a different city before junior year of high school.  She was my mentor and the person that helped me see what God called me to do…teach.  I went to her room daily to work.  In seventh grade, I was only allowed to go to her room a few times a week because my parents found out I wasn’t going to recess and felt I needed to get outside.  It was torture for me.  That is, until I realized that I could go to the church that was affiliated with my school…just a short walk across the parking lot.  I went there every day after lunch and made it for the noon mass.  The priests and other regulars knew me well after a short time there.  It was such a regular occurrence that the pastor didn’t think anything of it when he asked if I wanted to join him at the cemetery after the funeral he had performed.  I spent the afternoon away from class and around dead people..it seemed like a win-win for me.  

I learned the ins and outs of my religion and my faith in seventh grade.  Spending each day at the church, I was able to understand my faith.  I learned so much more than I ever was taught during my classes at school.  Life taught me first hand that my faith and my heart would lead me where I was supposed to go.  I spent many hours helping at the church.  The priests each knew me well.  One priest left the church after being reassigned and gave me a parting gift of a rosary that had been passed down in his family.  He had no one else to give it to and felt that my hands would hold it well…an object that I still hold to this day.  This was how I was able to believe everything that happened after seventh grade and has given me the courage to know God more intimately.

In eighth grade, everyone in my grade went through Confirmation.  The religion class taught during school was all to prepare us for the ceremony taking place before we graduated.  We went through the basics of our faith including the Ten Commandments, the Beatitudes, the Fruits of the Spirit, the different types and levels of sin, and various prayers they felt we would need to know for our lives.  We had a booklet that was filled in and memorized as well as tested.  Those were the easy parts of the process.  The hard parts, to me, were determining our name and our sponsor.  Each person was to have a name that was supposed to be God’s name for us.  The name was to be inspired by one of the martyrs or saints recognized by the Catholic faith.  We were supposed to have been divinely inspired to take that name.  I had spent many years reading books about saints to the point that I could no longer find stories I had not read in the library - either at school or the public library.  I was VERY well versed in all biographies of anyone involved with my faith.  I was intrigued by all of them as I wondered how they could be driven by that much faith to be wholly devoted to God.  So, when it came to determining my God name, it was easy - St. Therese of Liseux.  She’s also known as the “Little Flower” and, as her story goes, is said to send a shower of roses to respond to prayers said to her.  I had read about how she was canonized a saint and was floored that no one I talked to had really known about her before this time.  It was at this time that I had decided that I wanted Mrs. Reardon to be my sponsor.  The role of the sponsor was to help guide us along our faithwalk and be there, as needed, throughout our life.  Mrs. Reardon had taken this role with a hug and a smile.  She helped me from the start of the year, not only with my faith but also with my life.  About a month before the ceremony was to occur, she came to me with happy/sad news.  Her son was graduating, which we had known was happening at the end of the year, however, it was on the same weekend as my Confirmation.  She would not be able to be at the ceremony and wanted me to find someone new to be my sponsor.  She felt that if she was not able to be there for the start of my faith-walk, then she should not be put in that prominent position.  It was earth-shattering for me.  She had been there through so much!  How could I find anyone else to take her place and lead me the way she had?  I turned to the only source I knew, other than her, to guide me…St. Therese.  I prayed to the Little Flower to guide me and send me a sign showing me who my sponsor should be.  I had decided that bugging her by praying more than that one prayer was going against what her life had been about.  She had followed God blindly throughout her life.  God had shown her the way and she trusted him with her whole being.  I had decided that I would be like her.  One prayer said.  One ask.  And I waited.  About a week or so later, I was getting my list of invitees together with my mom.  One person’s name stuck out, drew me to call and ask if she would be my sponsor.  I didn’t realize at the time why I was drawn to her.  She was my aunt. Someone whom I had grown up with and played around almost every summer.  I had many good conversations with her and had gone to her childhood church when we visited.  I didn’t feel that she was pushy with her faith/religion, yet she had lived a hard life fighting even the church for her place after her divorce from my uncle.  When I called her, she was overjoyed to play such a role in my life.  She even made plans to come out early so that we could sit down and go over what I had been doing with my faith-walk up to that point.  As we sat going over everything, I got to the part where I had put down my name and why I had chosen it.  All at once, I remembered my prayer and looked up to see the answer right in front of me…my Aunt Rose.  St. Therese had answered my prayer and I hadn’t realized it until that moment.  

Memories are great things.  I remember when I met my husband.  I was 21 and had never had a boyfriend.  I had dated, but no one was worth my time.  For my twenty-first  birthday in August, my mom had asked me what I wanted.  One of them was a boyfriend.  I was in college and had waited long enough.  I was ready for a good relationship.  Sadly, my mom couldn’t give me any of my requests.  She was talking with her hairdresser of the time about this.  The hairdresser stopped, spun my mom around in the chair to face her, and said she could help with one of the requests.  She had a son that was also single.  I received a phone call from him and we decided to go on our first date that Saturday.  I said a prayer to St. Therese, “If this guy is worth anything, please send me a sign.”  He showed up for our date with a huge bouquet of flowers.  Normally he would show up for a first date with roses in hand, but he had decided that he wouldn’t spend the money.  As I took the flowers from him, I noticed in the center was one yellow rose.  We had a great date and he asked me out for another one the next Saturday at the theater.  “St. Therese, if he’s supposed to be special to me, like a boyfriend, send me a sign please.”  He picked me up for that date holding a dozen red roses and a candy rose.  I came home from that date and was pretty sure he was the one.  “St. Therese, if I’m supposed to marry him, please send me a sign.”  For Sweetest Day, he sent me a dozen long stem red roses.  This June, we will be celebrating our 26th anniversary.

Looking for our house took us a LONG time.  We had started looking with one realtor to find out that we needed to fix our finances - namely, I had to get a better job than substituting.  After we moved into our second apartment, we met our second realtor who happened to be the daughter of our landlord.  We went house hunting and found several houses, but none that really worked with our budget or our dreams.  I said my prayer to St. Therese.  The house we found was a tiny, one-bedroom ranch.  It was on almost four acres of land and my favorite part was a hill in the backyard with a tree on top that was perfect for reading under.  We bought the house and I happened to be putting things away in the kitchen when I looked out the side windows.  It was April and snowing, but right outside the window in full bloom was a rose bush.  I almost dropped the dishes only to hear my husband snicker saying, “I wondered when you’d see it.”

It seems like everything I have in life has been a struggle or an outright fight.  I fought to be married, I fought to get our house, I fought to get and keep my job.  It would seem fitting that I would have to fight and struggle to have children.  We hadn’t been trying long when I did get pregnant…and lost that child.  After that, it seemed like forever before we even thought I was pregnant.  I was pretty sure I was and on Valentine’s Day, I took the test to find out I really was pregnant.  We were overjoyed, but also fearful that we would lose this child too.  So, I said a prayer to St. Therese, “If this one is going to be OK, please send me a sign.”  We went shopping at Goodwill about a month or so later.  We weren’t really looking for anything other than some prizes for the kids at school.  We came home with several boxes of things and started to unpack them.  One of them was a set of China dishes that had my favorite color etched along the inside of it.  As we were pulling the dishes out to clean and place into our cupboards, my husband looked at me and said, “What did you pray for?”  I answered, “Why do you ask?”  He responded by pointing to the dishes.  Questioningly, I looked at them only to discover that I had overlooked the single rose etched in the middle of each dish.  Our healthy daughter was born a week late and is now one of four children.  God is good at choosing when, where, who, and how it is all supposed to happen.  Each of our children have a specific role to play and I don’t think they would have been able to fulfill their role in any other way or any other time than what He wants.

St. Therese has played a huge role in my life since my Confirmation.  There have been many other instances where she guided me.  Meeting my husband, buying our house, the birth of my eldest child…these are just a few instances where she has renewed my faith.  Always after a small, one-time prayer.  St. Therese seems to come out when I have life-altering moments and need that extra nudge.  She shows me how to continue my faith…God is there, we just need to look up to him and wait for his time.

Until next time

Cindy