Random Acts of "Kindness"

A Tale of Two Mary’s

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I am a practicing Catholic. My father’s family (eleven children ) were very spiritual people — in the protestant religions. A great grandfather was a minister. My mother was a Catholic. In order to marry her, my father changed religions over his families objections.

Why am I writing this? Because it helps to give an understanding to my life.

Growing up I attended church on Sundays and attended parochial school. Raising children, although still a Catholic, I didn’t always go to church, until an event — instrumental in my life — changed my thinking. I was at the right place, at the right time, to help save someone’s life. (The story was written in both To Pap, With Love, and Journey With Me.)

Our Lady, the Blessed Virgin Mary, although always active in my life, played a hide and seek game with me — that story is also in both books. I was at Queen Of Heaven cemetery in 1991 when miracles were occurring. While I was there, I felt like I was in a rose garden, the fragrance was so strong, but few roses were in view and no one wore rose perfume. We learned later that it was a sign Our Lady was present. The silver chain on my mother of pearl rosary turned gold that day.

 Enough background — Sunday, 6/13/2012, we attended church service at our daughter’s River Of Life Methodist Church in Jacksonville, FL.

After the service, theme: Communication — Two Way Traffic  –I was introduced to Mary Ellen, a mother visiting from Massachusetts. She wore a beautiful medal of Our Lady, gold face against a blue veil, that she received from her aunt. She was raised Lutheran but became Catholic when her son was suffering from a life threatening illness. Wearing the medal, she stood praying at the sea wall when she felt two angels lift her shoulders, removing her burden.

The second Mary entered my life that afternoon at Fernandina Beach. My daughter, granddaughter and I stopped in the woman’s bathroom after a shopping spree. There was NO TOILET PAPER, KLEENEX OR PAPER TOWELS in sight. I met Mary Smith when I stepped outside. When I shared our sad story, she remembered a crushed box of Kleenex in her car which she donated to the cause.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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