13th May 2020
I am writing this during The Writer's Hour.
It's a while since I've posted.
But I have been writing morning pages and continuing with my memoir, so I have an excuse.
However, a reader has asked me post. Well actually, she begged me to write something on my blog. She loves to read my words, she said.
So here I am.
Today is the Feast of Our Lady of Fatima. I love this feastday and was pleased to be able to visit Fatima a few years ago where The Mother Of God appeared to the three children in 1917.
The place has obviously become a huge pilgrimage destination mainly, but not exclusively for Catholics.
As well as processions and services, there was a chance to see where the children lived.
It was very moving.
Our group, parishioners and friends, became even closer during our eight days together.
One of our number was in a wheelchair and the youngest pilgrim, my son took it upon himself to help him throughout the whole time.
A friendship that was good already was nurtured and strengthened.
"Give us one a them sticks down," the old man pointed to the top of the tree.
The boy climbed up, whistling as he went.
"Here y'a go. This do?" he handed over gently. The old man nodded to the boy.
"Sure, Now, sit there on that wall for a bit.
The boy sat close to the wheelchair, in the shade of the tree and there a lesson began in the type of tree that grows in that part of Portugal. Beautiful moments.
13th May 1981 Pope John Paul II was shot in St Peter's square. The shooter was caught. As a "hit man" of excellent skill , he could never understand how come the Pope didn't die. When the Holy Father visited him - he'd forgiven him from the beginning- all the shooter wanted to know is,
" Why are you not dead. I know you should be dead. It was an easy target."
The holy Father told him it was the feast of Our Lady of Fatima and he believed that she'd protected him.
From then on, even though he didn't show any sorrow, the gunman asked to be told the story of Fatima.
Not a coincidence, I think.!
Our lady was involved in both incidents, surely.
Welcome to my blog. Grams is the name my first grandson gave me and it's stuck. My great loves: My husband, our nine children, twenty five grandchildren, four great grandchildren, my Faith, writing- prose and poetry - and travelling , especially in our camper. My posts are eclectic and I appreciate getting comments. So, please feel free to comment or offer advice on what you would like to to see more of.
Wednesday, May 13, 2020
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It is a joy when a young one shows such interest in an elder.
ReplyDeleteFascinating story about the hit man, i hope he repented eventually.
Stay safe!
ReplyDelete✨💛✨💛✨