Thursday, October 01, 2009
A St. Therese story from our past:
In the spring of ’98 my spiritual director suggested that he and I both pray to Thérèse of Lisieux for my husband's conversion. "Look for a sign of roses," Fr. Joe told me. About a month later, Atticus and I were sitting in the back yard of our house. We’d bought the house the previous summer, and he was still hard at work getting the yard in shape. That week he’d been cutting and chopping things with a vengeance. As we sat there that evening, he glanced toward a bush close to the house.
"Well, look at that," he said. "It’s a rose bush."
My heart nearly stopped. He continued, "I almost chopped it down the other day. I didn’t know what it was. I don’t know what stopped me, but for some reason, I thought I should leave it there."
I looked at the pink roses blooming near our house, and said a silent prayer, thanking Thérèse for the bloom of encouragement. When Fr. Joe came to dinner the following week, Thérèse’s roses graced the dinner table.