I was driving on, no joke, the Cranberry Highway–all hail the twee names of New England!–when I saw the Blessed Mother beckoning today. It’s enough to make me laugh though I never would at dear Mary, because it turns out she was answering my shallowest of prayers: to find a marvelous local thrift shop. Silk scarves and a leather trench coat she did lay upon me, as her son might have conjured loaves and fishes. With grace and an unappreciated wink, reminds us of the magic of faith. How we need her sweetly sturdy beauty now.
I was driving on, no joke, the Cranberry Highway–all hail the twee names of New England!–when I saw the Blessed Mother beckoning today. It’s enough to make me laugh though I never would at dear Mary, because it turns out she was answering my shallowest of prayers: to find a marvelous local thrift shop. Silk scarves and a leather trench coat she did lay upon me, as her son might have conjured loaves and fishes. With grace and an unappreciated wink, reminds us of the magic of faith. How we need her sweetly sturdy beauty now.