OK. Wait a minute. Maybe I should back up here. For the non-Catholics who may be reading this: let's get this whole "praying to saints" thing cleared up.
Yes, we pray to the saints.
No, we do not worship them. We honor them as people of great holiness, who have gone before us, and now reside in heaven. We also believe that since they are in heaven, they are in a particularly good place to pray for us, and offer our intentions to God.
Think about it this way: when you are in a sticky situation, or just need some extra help with the Almighty, for whatever reason, what do you do, besides saying your own prayers? You probably ask your friends and family to pray for you - to intercede to God on your behalf. Right? When Catholics talk about praying to the saints, that's the same way we approach things. The saints are our friends, our family - the difference is that they're in heaven - and I don't know about you, but the having someone in heaven praying to God for my intentions doesn't sound too bad!
Hopefully that clears up any of those nasty rumors about Catholics supposedly worshipping saints. Those nasty rumors are false, okay? If you have any other questions about this, or want more clarification, shoot me an email and let me know.
OK - back to the story. So, I started a novena to St. Therese this morning, and I asked her to send me a rose (or two, heh heh). She's sent me roses before - most often, pink ones.
I made it through the rest of the day at work (side note: I am so grateful that ash pollen is lower this week than last!), picked up cat food on the way home - an average Monday afternoon. After I got home and settled in, I walked out to check the mail. This is the first spring we've lived in this house, and we have a nice little gated courtyard area in the front that has a couple of trees and a few bushes. One of them is holly, which the bees adore, and as I walked out of the courtyard to check the mail, I was mostly trying not to irritate them. A few minutes later, coming back with the mail, I walked through the gate, and looked right at the rosebush in the courtyard that I'd walked past on my way to the mailbox without even noticing.
It was covered with pink roses.
Okay, you're thinking, seriously? You knew that pink rosebush was there, you live in this house!!!
Well, okay, yeah, I did know that rosebush was there. I had even noticed a few days ago that it had some early buds on it. But... (there's always a but...) I didn't know it was pink (or that it was that close to blooming - believe me, this was not one of those intentional, self-fulfilling kind of things!).
When we moved in last July, the rosebush was blooming - and its flowers were yellow. No sign of pink anywhere. I looked more closely at the rosebush this evening, and it appears to be two different varieties that were planted so close together, they became intertwined. Their leaves are actually different, something I'd never noticed before.
In any case, I have a bush full of perfect pink roses in my courtyard.
Thank you, St. Therese... please pray for us!
And... some photographic evidence (because you knew I'd have it):
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