K
kellygirl
Guest
Previously published in the ‘Monks of Adoration Digest # 101’
“The Rose Petal”
I have always felt that I am one of the fortunate ones.I received my prayer when Iwas nine at the time. By no means was my life perfect. We didn’t have much money. We had to make our own fun. And that we did! On frequent Saturday mornings my best friend Marie and I would meet up at the corner then skip our way to our parish, St.John Baptist De La Salle, for spiritual adventures. Something about this grand structure and the ominous feeling we would both get when we entered was unexplainable. There was something about being there alone. Just my friend and I. We felt we were getting special attention from the Holy Spirit. We even got the sense the Lord was happy we were there. Sort of a one on one we couldn’t get with the crowds of Mass. We were truly searching for God’s presence. When we entered the church, we could instantly feel joy as we dipped our fingers in the cool water, cross ourselves and feel “special”.
It was a lovely spring afternoon when Marie and I began our usual Saturday journey. The smell of candle wax from a wedding that had taken place earlier permeated the isles. While the two of us were sitting together, I dared to initiate a question that would have a life long effect on the both of us. “Let’s ask God for a sign of his presence.” Being children, we sort of made it a game, but Jesus was very serious, thank goodness.
We structured the exact sequence of events and agreed upon the plan. We knelt at the Virgin Mary statue and made our innocent plea. With butterflies in our stomachs, we then gently knelt down. We put our hands together in prayer and recited the “Our Father.”
Then it was time. Time to test our faith. A child’s faith of course, but pure faith none the less. I did the honors. I looked up to at our Blessed Mother, who had a beautiful bouquet of real red roses in her arms, and recited my prayer. It went something like this:
“Dear Jesus. I know I am a child, but if you would give Marie and me a sign that you are real, I will never, ever, ask for another sign as long as I live. I will always know that you are real, that you love me and that I was given the special gift of faith to carry with me for the rest of my life.”
I completed my prayer, and then Marie and I looked up at the Virgin Mary and braced ourselves for our personal miracle. I could feel my heart pounding. We looked at each other, then back to the blessed mother. In less than three seconds, it happened. One red rose petal fell from the bouquet Mary was holding! It ever so gently descended to the floor right in front of us! It was incredible! Marie and I looked at each other in total shock, mouths wide open, then ran out of the church as fast as we could! Our dear Lord must have gotten a good chuckle at the sight of us.
“Did you see that Kelly?”
“Yes I did. Can you believe it! We got a sign!”
We were so genuinely happy at what had just taken place. We felt so privileged and amazed that Jesus had chosen us to display his love to. We felt truly anointed and washed in the Holy Spirit. We walked a little lighter. Laughed a little harder. And prayed a little stronger. We were blessed. And we knew it.
Now you might say it was coincidence, even ridiculous. Simply a child’s fantasy or overreaction. But to two nine-year-old girls it was truly a sign.
So few times, if ever, in our lives do we look at the simple miracles being displayed to us. What we choose to believe is what transforms us. Whether it is making a blind man see or two little girls witnessing a flower petal fall from the Blessed Mother’s loving arms. What we ***choose ***to believe is what gives us faith. I suppose it is easier to doubt. Easier to say “Poor me. Where is my miracle?” When all along, you have been given thousands of miracles all your life. With the little attention you give to small details, you could not see. With diminished hope, you could not hear. And with little faith, You expected little. I would imagine even the parting of the sea would not convince you?
As for me, I have chosen to take that minor miracle and let it be my light. My inspiration. My gift from God. Oh what joy and remembrance that day has given me. In times of sorrow, that rose petal has comforted me. In times of self-doubt it has filled me with peace. And when I come across someone in need of inspiration, it is this story that I tell. That event was powerful enough to completely transform the rest of my life. Since that day I have never doubted, I have never looked back and said that was silly and I have never again asked God to revel himself to me. I know he is always with me. I guess some people need the parting of the sea to become convinced Jesus is real, to me, a simple drop of a rose petal at the right time was all I needed. And I am truly grateful for that miraculous event!
Yours in Christ, Kelly
“The Rose Petal”
I have always felt that I am one of the fortunate ones.I received my prayer when Iwas nine at the time. By no means was my life perfect. We didn’t have much money. We had to make our own fun. And that we did! On frequent Saturday mornings my best friend Marie and I would meet up at the corner then skip our way to our parish, St.John Baptist De La Salle, for spiritual adventures. Something about this grand structure and the ominous feeling we would both get when we entered was unexplainable. There was something about being there alone. Just my friend and I. We felt we were getting special attention from the Holy Spirit. We even got the sense the Lord was happy we were there. Sort of a one on one we couldn’t get with the crowds of Mass. We were truly searching for God’s presence. When we entered the church, we could instantly feel joy as we dipped our fingers in the cool water, cross ourselves and feel “special”.
It was a lovely spring afternoon when Marie and I began our usual Saturday journey. The smell of candle wax from a wedding that had taken place earlier permeated the isles. While the two of us were sitting together, I dared to initiate a question that would have a life long effect on the both of us. “Let’s ask God for a sign of his presence.” Being children, we sort of made it a game, but Jesus was very serious, thank goodness.
We structured the exact sequence of events and agreed upon the plan. We knelt at the Virgin Mary statue and made our innocent plea. With butterflies in our stomachs, we then gently knelt down. We put our hands together in prayer and recited the “Our Father.”
Then it was time. Time to test our faith. A child’s faith of course, but pure faith none the less. I did the honors. I looked up to at our Blessed Mother, who had a beautiful bouquet of real red roses in her arms, and recited my prayer. It went something like this:
“Dear Jesus. I know I am a child, but if you would give Marie and me a sign that you are real, I will never, ever, ask for another sign as long as I live. I will always know that you are real, that you love me and that I was given the special gift of faith to carry with me for the rest of my life.”
I completed my prayer, and then Marie and I looked up at the Virgin Mary and braced ourselves for our personal miracle. I could feel my heart pounding. We looked at each other, then back to the blessed mother. In less than three seconds, it happened. One red rose petal fell from the bouquet Mary was holding! It ever so gently descended to the floor right in front of us! It was incredible! Marie and I looked at each other in total shock, mouths wide open, then ran out of the church as fast as we could! Our dear Lord must have gotten a good chuckle at the sight of us.
“Did you see that Kelly?”
“Yes I did. Can you believe it! We got a sign!”
We were so genuinely happy at what had just taken place. We felt so privileged and amazed that Jesus had chosen us to display his love to. We felt truly anointed and washed in the Holy Spirit. We walked a little lighter. Laughed a little harder. And prayed a little stronger. We were blessed. And we knew it.
Now you might say it was coincidence, even ridiculous. Simply a child’s fantasy or overreaction. But to two nine-year-old girls it was truly a sign.
So few times, if ever, in our lives do we look at the simple miracles being displayed to us. What we choose to believe is what transforms us. Whether it is making a blind man see or two little girls witnessing a flower petal fall from the Blessed Mother’s loving arms. What we ***choose ***to believe is what gives us faith. I suppose it is easier to doubt. Easier to say “Poor me. Where is my miracle?” When all along, you have been given thousands of miracles all your life. With the little attention you give to small details, you could not see. With diminished hope, you could not hear. And with little faith, You expected little. I would imagine even the parting of the sea would not convince you?
As for me, I have chosen to take that minor miracle and let it be my light. My inspiration. My gift from God. Oh what joy and remembrance that day has given me. In times of sorrow, that rose petal has comforted me. In times of self-doubt it has filled me with peace. And when I come across someone in need of inspiration, it is this story that I tell. That event was powerful enough to completely transform the rest of my life. Since that day I have never doubted, I have never looked back and said that was silly and I have never again asked God to revel himself to me. I know he is always with me. I guess some people need the parting of the sea to become convinced Jesus is real, to me, a simple drop of a rose petal at the right time was all I needed. And I am truly grateful for that miraculous event!
Yours in Christ, Kelly
