Category: Uncategorized

A few years ago during Lent, my son-in-law Russ asked me if I wanted to meet him for a prayer session. Me? Pray? And with another family member? Needless to say I was excited. Russ gave me an address on Tustin St. in Orange, but I could not find the church. I called him and he explained that is was at someone’s home, and to just follow the address. This led me to Planned Parenthood. I was baffled and called Russ again. He instructed me as to where to park and told me he was almost there. I was uncomfortable and a little upset with the situation not being presented in an honest manner. The truth is that if Russ had told me where we were going, a big emphatic NO would have been my response. Russ explained to me that this was part of his penance for Lent. I looked at him, and asked him “Why would you assume that it was mine too?” I added that God did not make this my penance, He did not call me to do this.  Boy was I wrong. The Lord did call me to be there at that very time and as much as I protested, I knew in my heart that it made a difference.  Before this experience abortion was an “out of sight, out of mind” stance and now I was face-to- face with the opposition. I felt like an oddly potted tree in the middle of a  concrete sidewalk . It took a while to ease into the role and to finally lift up my head.  I prayed. First for the doctors, and then the assistants and all the other workers who were employees at the clinic.

A car pulled in with what looked like a mother and her very young daughter. I felt the pain for both of them, not judging them but praying for them to make the right choice. I was scared for the young lady, what I could see from where I was standing, she looked confused and sad. The mother refused to have eye contact with me and just my presence made her uncomfortable. I was the physical conscience for those who passed through the wide drive way. I was not holding any signs depicting how the procedures are done, because I could not find in myself to that.

Shortly after the the mother-daughter incident, came a young immature man, with loud music was blaring from his vehicle. He and his female companion made their way past the driveway.  I prayed for them as well. All of us knowing that the decision that they were about to make would change the course of their lives forever. Some of you reading this may say it was for the better but this is not true. You can look up the statistics for yourself, if you question my writings. The damage from these heinous acts is not easily removed from the subconscious mind.

Lent is 40 days and when you make a commitment, remember it’s not to be taken lightly. When Moses was on Mt. Sinai in the presence of God for 40 days and 40 nights without eating or drinking anything, he was transformed (Ex. 34:29). His countenance changed and his face was bright red from being in the presence of God. We should all experience a transformation during the 40 days of Lent. Our Lord was tested in the desert for 40 days and 40 nights, with no food or water. This was to prepare Him for his public ministry. (Mt 4:2-6). The number 40 represent victory.

Yes, give up your sweets but don’t forget to incorporate prayer during your fast.

Prayer:

Dear Heavenly Father, I come to you today to seek your face. During these 40 days of Lent,  help me Lord, to set aside special time for prayer. Lord transform me into the person you have called me to be. I graciously accept your perfect will in my life. Dear Lord, let me be an example of love to others, especially to those that struggle with their walk. Heavenly Father, you were with your Son Jesus in the desert, you were with Moses at Mt. Sinai, so be with me as I go 40 days in the wilderness to seek you. Make my face shine as you did for Moses, from being in your presence. Amen

The surprise planning started in February of last year. In April, I noticed several emails from Rome confirming hotel reservations. Curiosity got the best of me, and the investigation revealed the anniversary gift that Mike worked so hard to keep secret.

Mike’s goal was to have a romantic dinner in Rome. At first, I thought the weather in January would be a deterrent, rain, and possibly snow, and then I questioned the time frame? My daughter Sonja snapped me back into reality, reminding me of an ungrateful behavior. She was right, and I was humbled yet again.

Mike was nursing a cold, and the flight up was miserable, coughing and sneezing the entire way. He was focused on the trip and graciously stuck to the travel plans. Upon our arrival at the Roma Cavalieri, I mentioned that we were celebrating our 45th wedding anniversary.  Maria our hostess shared our excitement and upgraded our room with a view of the Vatican.

Monday was a day of exploring the familiar site of the grand city. Walking for miles with few visitors in the city makes you feel like a local. The women so chic, no tennis shoes, no workout clothes just beautiful puffy coats, designer handbags, and leather shoes or boots. Ladies, leave your bulky Uggs at home.  I caught a reflection of my 7 year old leather coat and felt a little outdated. I mentioned to Mike “Am I the only one wearing leather?” He laughed in agreement.  I never purchase clothes in Europe because of expense and the sizing is really insulting. For instance, if you are a size 12 in the states, here it would be in the fifties. The only thing that I buy here is shoes, and at 50% off, who can resist. Yes, they have the inexpensive brands like H&M, but these are on the main streets like Via del Corso. The boutiques along the small cramped cobblestone streets each uniquely selling one of a kind fashions and every thing was on sale. Soft American music was playing in the background of every business we entered, everywhere we went the American music followed us.

Our dinner experiences were great for Mike, but not for me, ordering the wrong thing was a constant, Mike is a foodie so he knew exactly what to order. Towards the end of the trip, as if I were a child he took over ordering my meals. The Romans love octopus, truffles, and artichokes must be in full bloom because most pasta was laced in the odd vegetable. The bread, stuffed with olives and breadsticks sprinkled with sesame seeds are delightful and plentiful.  The red wines, especially the Chiantis did not disappoint, I rarely drink wine with dinner but here it’s a different experience.

Months before the trip I made arrangement for the audience with Pope Francis by visiting: www.visitorsoffice@pnac.org. Via email, we were instructed as to where to pick up the tickets once in Rome. A stones throw away from the Trevi Fountain is the Pontifical North American College, a hidden gem behind massive dark wood doors. Greeted by a young seminarian with a clipboard and list, he checked off our name and led us into another area. A beautiful fair skinned Sister Anne warmly welcomed us, and schooled us on how to get good seats to see the Pope. With a map of the Vatican and a picture of the room, the nun pointed out where to sit. The winter audiences have its advantages because of the smaller size of the crowds as the meeting are held indoors. The nun told us to arrive early; 7:00 A.M. for the 10:30 visit but my advice is to arrive earlier to secure your spot. Sister Anne said that they had just received 2,000 rosaries and asked if we wanted some. After sharing with her about the ministry, she gave us 200 rosaries and Mike carried them to the Vatican for the Pope to bless. These were the only religious items that I brought back, and they were free.

The Year 2000: A Pilgrimage of Grace

It was the year 2000 when Mike and I renewed our wedding vows in Rome. I had been traveling with our ministry to the Holy Land, and Mike caught up with us in Turin, Italy, where we were visiting the Shroud of Turin at the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist. From there, our tour bus carried us through the rolling landscapes of Italy—through Genoa, Florence, and Assisi—before we finally reached the Eternal City.

Father Pat Hussey

Father Pat Hussey, a Jesuit priest from Ohio, served as our chaplain throughout the journey. His presence was a profound blessing. He celebrated Mass with us at every holy site in Israel and at the basilicas we visited across Italy. We had known Father Pat for several years; he regularly vacationed in California to visit family and was affiliated with St. Pius V in Buena Park. Father Pat became like family to us—so much so that he officiated the wedding of our daughter Sonja and her husband Russ. He has since passed into eternal rest with the Lord.

Saint Paul Outside the Walls

Saint Paul Outside the Walls is a grand cathedral that once served as the original Vatican and now stands as one of the four major basilicas in Rome. The remains of St. Paul are enshrined within its walls. On the right side of the basilica stands the St. Benedict Chapel, where a towering marble sculpture of the saint watches over the altar. It was here, in this sacred space, that Mike and I were surprised by our team. Joanne, our ministry leader, had arranged everything in advance—a vow renewal ceremony we never expected. Because it was a surprise, we were dressed casually, unaware of the blessing that awaited us.

The Spaniard

As Father Pat began the ceremony, a stranger quietly entered the chapel and interrupted the service. He said he had something he must give me. Father Pat, ever pastoral, gently reminded the gentleman that we were in the midst of our vows. The man did not leave. Instead, he stood quietly at the back of the chapel. I had never seen this man before and could not fathom his purpose. Father Pat resumed the ceremony.

Mike and I were deeply moved, humbled by the grace of renewing our vows before God and His Church, believing our marriage would now receive the Church’s blessing. But again, the stranger approached. This time, speaking in Spanish, he said with quiet urgency: “I must give her something.” Father Pat paused, and the man stepped forward to present me with his gift.

The Rosary

It was the most unusual rosary I had ever seen—ornate and larger than any standard rosary. The Spanish gentleman explained that he had crafted it with his own hands, and that God had instructed him to give it to me. He was a small man in stature, and when he introduced himself, he offered no name, only that he was from Spain. Then he asked me a question that stopped me short: “Do you know anything about Garabandal?”

I had just finished reading about the apparitions that had occurred in that region of Spain, so I answered with some surprise, “Yes.” As he placed the rosary in my hands, he explained its profound significance: it contained a piece of a page from the personal prayer book of Concita González, one of the Garabandal visionaries—a page that had been kissed by the Blessed Mother herself.

Our team immediately asked if he had more rosaries to share. The man simply replied, “No, just this one.”

In the excitement that followed, we took several photographs with the Spanish gentleman. But by the time we finished admiring the craftsmanship of this gift, he had vanished. I turned to thank him again, only to find he was gone. Mike was bewildered. “Do you know him?” he asked repeatedly. “Was the team part of this surprise too?” “No,” I assured him. “I’ve never met him.”

This was before the age of iPhones, so I eagerly anticipated getting the photographs developed when we returned home. I was convinced the man was an angel—surely, I thought, heavenly beings don’t appear in photographs. When the pictures came back, my hypothesis was proven wrong. There he stood, clear as day, unmistakably present in every frame.

Upon closer examination of the rosary, I discovered an inscription on the back: “Besado por la Santa Virgen Garabandal”—”Kissed by the Blessed Virgin Mother of Garabandal.”

Joanne said this was a gift from God because of my service to the homeless. I have no understanding of this event other than it was indeed holy and I love that Mike was there to witness it first hand.

Next week will mark another milestone in our lives. Mike and I will celebrate 45 years of marriage, and he has surprised me with a trip to Rome.