Joe ~ May 2

 

Hail Mary

 

As a child in parochial school, a good deal of our time was spent being schooled by the Sisters of Mercy on the Catholic faith. We had a catechism that had chapter upon chapter of questions and prayers that had to be memorized and recited word perfect or the devil would capture our souls and remand them to the fires of hell. So I, being a quite, scared little boy, did as I was told and diligently recorded all this religious malarkey in my very small developing brain. The Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Apostles’ Creed, the Rosary….not to mention the Confiteor for those of us who were natural born sinners and had to know the path to salvation. Sacraments came in handy for getting the new navy blue suit and tie with shiny black dress shoes which were worn on the occasion of almost never. During this time we were herded into the auditorium and would watch movies that were holy, inspirational and meant to make us aspire to become a saint, like the stars of the movies. “The Song of Bernadette” was a good one…Bernadette was a young girl in the south of France who saw the Virgin Mary in a grotto outside her little village. Jennifer O’Neil, Vincent Price and Lee J. Cobb were all there to witness the miracle of the making of this film. Then there was the movie about the children of Fatima, which is in Portugal, who the Mother Mary appeared and made all kind of predictions. I fear some of them are coming to fruition as I write this piece. Oh, there were other movies: “The Quiet Man”, “Angels in the Outfield”, and educational films which explained “duck and cover”. But, the big one was never dropped and we took our spiritual selves to the next stop on the pre-adolescent train ride. Miracles never happened in the East End of Wilkes-Barre. Nobody ever saw apparitions of Jesus, Mary or any other saint. But there was that one time where Hobo McBride claimed to have seen Saint Patrick upon leaving Moore’s Bar after closing. I hope he did. He was one guy who truly needed a miracle. So my faith withered as I became older. No more prayers, no more confessionals, no more Nuns. Just a empty shell of a heathen or pagan or whatever they called it back then. 

Ah, but one dark and dreary night after an evening of shots and beers I got down on my knees and prayed. I addressed it to Jesus, but over time I’ve come to believe that the deity I seek goes by just about whatever you want to call him/her/it. Anyhoo, I had that spiritual awakening that I fight daily to hang onto. I pray a lot. It makes me feel good. I have gotten miraculous results. No apparitions or holy visions….just that peaceful easy feeling that the Eagles sing about. 

My daughter Bethany and her husband have been trying there darnedest to conceive a child for the better part of the last three years. Multiple IVF treatments and drug regimens to deal with, and have been disappointed time and time again. My wife told me one of her acquaintances recommended saying “Hail Marys” and assured her that this was a sure thing. Well, being the skeptic that I am, I thought it over and started saying these prayers which are forever etched in the gray matter of my mind. Now I haven’t found religion and don’t want to. Religion is fine for meeting like-minded folks who enjoy fundraising spaghetti dinners and ice cream socials. But I have found the experience of saying these repeated lines until I can zone out and enter the twilight zone of meditative bliss. Not a saint or a holy roller. Just a Dad who believes that there is more to this universe that I will never grasp in this lifetime. As for Mary. Is she blessed? Was she a virgin? Will she intercede with her familial connections? Well, I keep calling and she keeps picking up the phone. Maybe that’s the miracle. Amen!!!