Upon glancing over at the former coffeetable passing for a prayer space in a corner of my bedroom I find I have: an ESV bible, a Jerusalem Bible which Father gave me that is most certainly twice my age, a rosary, my rain-and-wine beaten journal that should probably find a new home, a small stack of pamphlets from Father that I should file, a pillow for my knees, and a candle.
There are also a few holy cards, but they were tucked into the jacket of the Jerusalem and I haven’t identified them all yet.