I grew up in a Catholic family where rosaries, catechisms, and vigil lights were part of the fabric of our lives.

Have a real need – Aunt Irene prayed the rosary and it seems like all the real memorable needs were answered with her intersession. Then there was the annual trek to Robinsonville with the neighbor Louise Matkse and mom – a lunch was packed along with our rosaries for the 45 minute road trip – to commemorate the apparition in 1859.

Mom and Louise in the front seat of the 47 Plymouth and Nancy and I in the back. So we all would be in a holy frame of mind – a few rosaries were prayed complete with Louise putting in the mysteries at the appropriate places. In all the years with the rosary I only realized in my 5th decade of life that they were a review of the different parts of the life of Jesus Christ. Before and after the rosary was prayed we sang songs from mom’s childhood. I’m not sure if this was to keep my sister and I occupied so we wouldn’t deteriorate into fighting in the company of a beloved neighbor – or my mom and Louise viewed this as fun.

We arrived at the Chapel of Our Lady of Good Help early enough to claim an up front area on the grass so we could see all the parts of Mass that unfolded in front of us under an August – mid morning sky.

As soon as the priest bid us go in peace we fell in line to enter the chapel and were fascinated by our fellow devoted christians – some on crutches or in wheelchairs – praying at a side altar for their private petitions. After inching our way to the altar we dropped to our knees and pulled out our rosaries once again and circled the altar on our knees until we completed yet another rosary – this time just our lips moved without sound or the mysteries.

Rosaries completed and knees appropriately sore, we finally were released to enjoy the sunshine and green grass of the summer day.

It was noon and we were starving. Since we went to communion at Mass – we had not eaten since at least 12am – for us it would have been around 9 pm the previous night. Those were the church rules – nothing in the stomach after the stroke of midnight if receiving the body and blood of Christ in the form of a host at Mass.

After we were all holy-ed up and fed the return car ride was uneventful. No songs had to be sung to keep us from fighting – we fell sound asleep for the short trip home.