My Rosary

In seeking the soothing faith of my grandmothers, I familiarized myself with a source of their comfort, the rosary.

When we die, a rosary will be placed on our hands as if we are in prayer. But do we actually pray the rosary? Do we remember how? A few years ago I found the rosary that came with the little book my parents gave me for my first communion. I went on line and downloaded a page detailing me on how to pray the rosary (my cheat sheet.) My Grandma used to tell me that when she couldn't sleep she would take the rosary to bed and she would never finish. I tried it and it worked. Unfortunately one evening I must have pulled it apart because I found a long row of beads with one missing when I woke up. Fortunately it was lovingly replaced by a beautiful one from my Godchild. And since then the rosary has become more than a sleep aid.

In my difficult year my new rosary became an accessory, resting in my pocket much like a security blanket, guiding me through prayer when the troubles of the world seemed to hinder my happiness and connecting me to the Blessed Mother, always a gentle soothing balm for a soul in need of cooling down.

There are days when I tell myself I will pray the rosary, but don't get around to it. And I often put it off as if it was a chore. But in time I eventually find my way to the little box on my nightstand and release the link of smooth beads that will glide through my fingers as any ire disappears and my focus turns to the gentle lady who watches over me and guards my faith.

So many people these days don't even remember how to say the rosary. I didn't, but it was worth learning. And you can cheat! I still do. But the end result is a resetting of your priorities. A cleansing of your anxieties. And who doesn't need that these days?