Heres a true story from my cousin. She was in her late twenties , and getting rather anxious to be married.She prayed novena after novena to St Joseph to find her a good catholic husband. Eventually in despair ,she threw her statue of St Joseph out the flat window[so frustrated with his lack of intercession]. She heard a moan from the street below the window, A young man had been struck by the statue, ..........well that was 15 years ago.They now have 7 children. gotta love these stories, anyone got some to share?
Beautiful This is only a little one, but I always remember it. When I was young about nine years old we used to go on the bus everyday to my school which was about four mile sup the road. My mother used to always give our bus money to my older brother Ciaran who of course used to always spend it on what ever so we kids had to walk the long way home. Of course I used to always beg my mother to give me my own money but she never did, goodness knows why ,so it kept right on being hi-jacked by my brother the Boss of Bosses for his own wicked designs. Anyway one day I was walking down the path from school feeling really tired and not wanting to face the long walk that day and so I said a 'Hail Mary', for Our Lady to give me a break and give me the dough for the bus home. Well as soon as I finished the prayer I looked on the ground and their was a silver half crown enough not only to get me home but to get some candy as well. Even as a child I knew the chances of this happening were billions to one, so I knew I had just seen a little miracle. Years later I was at a New Years Eve party in London, but when I went to get a taxi in the early hours I found all my money had been swiped. I was nervous about walking through a strange city, with many dodgy areas on my own at night and prayed for help . All at once a strange man I never met came up to me, handed me a ten pound note with a smile and said, Here this is for you@. I was amazed, things like that don't happen in cities and I had not been pan handling or asked. I couldn't help asking him why he had done it , but he just smiled and sad, Oh it looked like you needed it and he smiled again and walked off. Amazing.
When I was 18 years of age, I was hitching a lift from Bruff, Co Limerick to Limerick City. It was about 8pm on a dark, wintry night. Wind was howlin' and swirlin' rain. No one was stopping for me. i think I was on the road for about an hour. So finally I said "Please God, let the next car stop for me and I promise that I'll pray to you every day of my life". Next thing, a car comes along and takes me all the way into town. Did I keep my promise? Nope, being a young fella, promises like that have a habit of getting lost in the throes of teenage angst, interest in girls, music, football etc. So, in 2001, I was hitchin' from Newport, Co Tipperary into Limerick City. Was about 5pm, decent enough weather. Was on the road for about an hour and only a few cars passed by. Again I asked God the same thing as I did that rainy night. Next thing, a jaguar e type pulled up. Gave me a lift into town. Again, not really being in prayer I quickly forgot my promise. Those two incidents are constantly on my mind as I try to make up for lost time...
I hope I can make a long story short here. Many years ago my wife's Mom had a bad stroke and it not only caused physical damage but also spiritual. She had a tough life but prayed the Rosary everyday and was a faith filled person. She stopped praying and was very depressed. So Holy Week was coming up and my wife's sister wanted us to pray a new and special novena for her Mom. She would drive the prayer to us because there were no computers to email. Life got busy, it was Holy Thursday night, and we did not get the Novena and it was to start on Good Friday. So my wife and I went to the Mass of the Last Supper- one that I always found so mystically wonderful. I also had a custom from my childhood days of visiting several other Churches after Mass to spend time with Our Lord in preparation for Good Friday. Well my wife never came with me in past years, but this year she felt an urging to go. We spent time in adoration at a few Churches and then after our lat stop we were walking down the steps and a woman we never met frantically caught us at bottom and said wait here as I need to give you something. Well we thought she was a bit nuts but we waited. She came out and said she was praying and when she saw us in front of her it was placed into her by a voice that she could clearly hear to give us a prayer novena - the Divine Mercy Novena and a beautiful pair of Rosary Beads from the Holy Land. The voice specifically said to her that "they need" these two things. We accepted and thanked her. Well, when my wife's sister began to dictate over the phone on Good Friday the prayers she wanted us to say, we quickly realized it was the Divine Mercy Novena we had been given the night before! We prayed the Novena and celebrated our first Divine Mercy Sunday that year. My wife's mother never had a full physical healing, ahh but her spiritual healing was full, complete and glorious. She taught us all until her death how to suffer in union with Christ. She was happy and never complained. Now for the Rosary Beads....when they were presented to us, my wife had it immediately placed upon her that these were not for her but our Protestant friend who had a child the same age as ours who was very sick. She gave the Rosary to her, taught her how to pray it and her son's disease progression stopped (although he still has lots of physical problems) but guess what - our Protestant friend became Catholic the following Easter because as she said the strength, beauty, and prayers of the One Mother, Our Blessed Mother, led her more closely to The Lord. Well, sorry for the length, but I hope it is a testament to the power of the Holy Spirit who clearly orchestrated all of what happened.
When I was 17, I got punched in the ear while in a friends pool. The force broke my eardrum. I went to the emergency room, and they scheduled me for surgery the next day ,to place a screen in my ear, in the hopes of the ear drum partially growing over it in 6 months. Well, I called my Saintly Grandmother ,who had a "hook" with our Lord and Padre Pio,lol. Well I awoke the next morning, pain free, and my hearing intact. I went to the doctor and he asked me " why are you here ? " . I said ," how's my right ear ? ". " Perfect, so why are you here? ". Thank you Lord, thank you Padre Pio !!!
I first heard about Garabandal through an Aunt of mine who lived in Lindenhurst, NY and was in the same Parish as Joey Lomangino ( Our Lady of Perpetual Help ). She was having Joey over to her house to do a talk about Garabandal and also a chance to see and venerate the medal Joey had that was kissed by the Blessed Mother. The reason I was there as a 13 year old was I had a bone disease in my legs. My Grandmother ( who was truly a living saint ) was praying for my miraculous healing, was a huge believer in Padre Pio, and I heard he was connected to and approved this apparition apostolate. I listened to Joey and kissed the medal. Two weeks later, after another x-ray, astonished doctors, said the disease was completely gone ! So I was certainly surprised and grateful to my Grandmother for her prayers to Padre Pio ( never really understand the meaning of kissing the medal at that time as a boy.)
I had been taking care of my father who is now 89. We moved him to our home in Washington and then moved to Montana. He has Alzeimers and he lived with us for 3 1/2 yrs. Through all the trials of him escaping, open wounds, skin cancer, not making it to the bathroom, etc. we finally said through much prayer, we could not do it anymore. There was an opening at the Veterans home in Missouri where he was from. My brother lived nearby, so he could visit. We flew there on a plane and drove in a rental car to get there. I was ready to leave. I was having a very difficult time saying goodbye. I had gone by a dollar store and bought a journal to write in so I could make the notes and reflections I needed to to feel better. My father had lost his ability to write at least a year before. He would scribble, or write one word over and over. Maybe even a nonsense sentence. He used to write me two and three page letters on yellow legal pad paper when he would go on trips when I was a teen. His writing was distinctive and although he spoke slowly all his life, he wrote in a clear fast paced way. I was sitting with him on a porch swing getting ready to say good bye and I decided to ask him to write in my journal one sentence. Just one. I asked him if he would write , "I love you Martha." I handed him the journal and the pen and he hesitated. He re-adjusted and took a breath. He started writing and kept writing. I just knew he was writing the same words over and over like usual, but at least it would be his writing. He closed the book and handed it to me. I opened it and the tears ran down my face. It said, "Dear Marti, I can't thank you enough for all you and Ed have done for me. I appreciate you and love you. Tell the children I will miss them. Love, Mike. I could not believe it. God had given me such a gift that I was speechless and filled with His love and peace. My dad would be ok. I could walk away in peace. Dad was afraid he had upset me. But I kept hugging him and telling him it was ok, I was just going to miss him and that I would be back soon. I treasure that gift God has given to me so much! Just the moment in time. Just the clarity. It was if God was patting me on the back. That was my miracle.
I read this and went off and said a rosary and I am still laughing at your St Joseph story, Mac. There will be ladies everywhere tossing Good St. Joseph out the window hoping he will catch them a husband.Ok, so here's a little story of me own. Once on Christmas eve we were all asleep in bed, except for me, an old night owl even as a child. Suddenly a man was suddenly by my bed. He was dressed in a long robe and had long hair and a beard. He ever so sweetly tucked me into bed an kissed me and left. Suddenly my foster brother Jimmy jumps up and said, who was that man? You saw that, I said, yes I did. Well we ran around and went downstairs looking for this man but the house was silent and everyone asleep. All these years I had thought it was St. Nick, I mean it being Chritmas eve and all. But in front of the Eucharist one day I was thinking about it and Jesus suddenly told me it wasn't St. Nick. Oh, St. Joseph I thought, No. All was silent. Well Jesus, who was it? It was Me. Imagine, the Lord of Lords, King of Kings, came and tucked me in on Christmas Eve. One thing that touched me about this was that I was the only child in that house{with many children}without any parents and he came and tucked me in!
This made me cry (and I'm not much for crying!) I believe that those of us without the "standard issue" family situation get closer attention from heaven. I spent the first 6 weeks of my life cared for by the sisters at Our Lady of Victory home for unwed mothers. When I got my records from that time, I discovered they had named me Barbara Ann. My parents named me Kathy Marie. So I have 4 patron Saints, not just 2! I also have a strong sense that the Blessed Mother "mothered" me during that time.
I think what you said Kathy about those needing special attention getting it is so true, Kathy. Its unbelievable though with so many billions on the face of the planet that God could love each of us, specially as an individual in a very special way. But that's true too. I love what Mary said, 'If you knew how much I love you, you would die of joy.' That Mary's motherhood is a real Motherhood and a very real motherhood for each and every one of us all here on the planet. The difficulty is not that heavens gates are closed but that the gates of our hearts our closed to receive this love. We cut God out of the equation ,He never cuts Himself out no matter how it seems. This is a wonderful Gold Fresco on the roof of the Clonard Monastery I always look up to when I pray there at mass each morning showing Christ and His Mother is Triumph in heaven as King and Queen. It always leaves me a little bit ambivalent because of my own personal experience of Jesus as dear friend in my heart..and yet to as Saviour, as Lord, as Third Person of the Blessed Trinity and as God. I remember when I was about four or three year old my father bought me a beautiful red bycyle for Christmas. It has special support wheels at the rear to stop it from keeling over ...which goes to show how young I was. Anyhow one day I was pushing the bike up a hill (because it was so steep) when I suddenly stopped because a question had occurred to me. Who, what was this voice , this friend who always talked away to me in my head and heart and had been talking away to me as my dearest friend, yes even for the cot? So I turned in my heart and said in surprise, 'Who are you?' and the voice answered. 'I am Jesus ' This really surprised me as a very little child and I said to the voice. 'But you are in heaven and in the tabernacle'. ..and the voice replied at once... 'Yes I am in the tabernacle and in the tabernacle of your heart too. I am inside you and it is I who have always been with you'. As the voice said this my heart swelled with a great joy. With the faith of a little child I accepted this at once and form then on knew that the voice in my heart was Jesus. Friend of my childhood years. It was only when I got much, much older that I realsied that not everyone heard the voice of Jesus , or at least heard Him so clearly. But you know I believe He talks in the hearts of all men. The problem was never with God's voice but rather with our hearing..... yes He loves us so much He has come to set up His home in the Tabernacle of our hearts. Galatians 2:20 I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.
The Miracle that Led “Obi-Wan Kenobi” to Convert to Catholicism by ChurchPOP Editor - November 24, 2015 via starwarsalways.wordpress.com Sir Alec Guinness is one of the most recognizable actors of the 20th century. While he appeared in lots of films over the years and won many awards, he best known as having played Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars. What many people don’t know about him, though, is that at the age of 42 he converted to Catholicism – in part because of a miracle. Guinness was born in 1914 in London to a broken family. He never knew his father and grew up in poverty. Though he was confirmed in the Anglican faith at 16, he was unsure of what he really believed about religion. Over the next few years he bounced around Presbyterianism, atheism, Marxism, Buddhism, and even attended a few Quaker meetings. Like a good Englishman of the early 20th century, though, he had no interest in Catholicism. While rehearsing for the play Hamlet, an Anglican priest approached him and explained that he was blessing himself wrong and showed him the correct way. Something about the encounter had a spiritual impact on him, and he regained some interest in Anglicanism. He was drawn further into the Anglican faith in the turmoil of World War II, but it wasn’t until 1954 when he was 40 years old that he had another experience that would open him to considering Catholicism. He was in France working on the film Father Brown, based on G. K. Chesterton’s well known fictional crime-solving priest. He was playing the title role and so was dressed up as a Catholic priest. While walking down the street in priestly attire, a local child spotted him and mistook him to be a genuine Catholic priest. The child ran up, grabbed his hand trustingly, and walked with him down the road. The trust and affection the child had for Catholic priests had a deep impact on him and made him start to seriously consider Catholicism. He later explained: Continuing my walk, I reflected that a Church that could inspire such confidence in a child, making priests, even when unknown, so easily approachable, could not be as scheming or as creepy as so often made out. I began to shake off my long-taught, long-absorbed prejudices. Soon after, his son Matthew contracted polio and appeared to be close to death. Desperate and seeking divine help, Guinness started dropping by a local Catholic church to pray. He made a deal with God: if God healed Matthew, he would allow his son to become Catholic if he wanted. Against all expectations (miraculously?), his son recovered! So Guinness and his wife enrolled him in a Jesuit school. A few years later, Guinness, his wife, and his son all converted to Catholicism. Guinness remained a faithful Catholic the rest of his life until he died in 2000. May he rest in peace!
Alec Guiness used to tell another story of a miracle. One time he was filming in Pinewood Studios , which is down in the country. He went down everyday by train after going to 8am mass in Westminster Cathedral. One morning he walked rund to 8am mass as usual and afterwards on walking round to the station saw that the 8am train was just arriving for the display board. Confused he asked if the 8am train had been delayed, but the station guy pointed out it was delayed, Sir Alec jumped on still very confused and arrived at Pinwood studios an hour earlier than ususal. But there had the time he had been at mass gone? How had he arrive din time for the earlier train? He learnt later that his usual 9am train had crashed with several fatalities and many injuries...
I remember seeing Sir Alec at the beautiful Farm St Jesuit church of The Immaculate Conception in London. Your story reminded me of the time I missed the underground train in London that was targeted by terrorists. When I was 13 at junior seminary in Scotland I was practising my accordion in a very old building at the end of a short narrow corridor. At the other end of the corridor a robin red breast appeared and kept hopping back and forth around the corner. Eventually I got up and went to see what it was doing. Before I had even reached the corner the roof above the chair in which I had been sitting collapsed and huge lumps of masonry came crashing down. Had I remained in my seat I could have been killed or at least seriously injured. Legend has it that a robin plucked a thorn from Our Lord's temple when he was hanging on the cross. A drop of blood landed on its breast and turned it red. These birds are found in Palestine.
I don't drink as it happens but my father was fond of just a few glasses of wine at night. A little at the time, and much moreso in retrospect, I can see that my father was lonely sometimes drinking the wine - although my mother drank with him - and I think would like me to have joined him the odd time but I never did. Anyway very late the night he died I was in one room on my own and saw a bottle of what I thought was non alcoholic elderberry juice on a sideboard. I often drink that stuff so I poured myself a generous cup only to realise after I had swallowed a gulp that it was alcoholic elderberry wine, which I didn't even know existed never mind that we had a bottle. Anyway the following morning I could see how my father had finished that bottle of wine just before he died. I lived with my father for the best part of 40 years but that was the only time we ever drank alcohol from the same bottle, and it was only a few hours apart.
Thanks for that very personal and special story SB. It moved me deeply and made me think of my own dad. Sadly I often think of how I could have loved him better. Glad you got a chance to share a bottle with yours. The last time I drank elderberry wine was at the shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham. Your post brought back many memories. Memories allow the past to be healed.
My father died suddenly last Sept. 2 2015. (I recounted in previous posts how my mom's long passed mother's salt shaker visible moved on it's own a week prior to my dads death as if warning my mom of something coming, and how my house smoke alarm when off the exact minute of my dad's death 9 days later) He was quietly religious and did go to mass weekly with my mom who is very devout. He has his struggles with heart problems and anger and irritabilty. Sadly he didn't get to confession or get the scrament of the sick as would be the case if wasn't sudden. My mother worried greatly over this. He has had numberous masses offered for his soul since and many people praying for his soul too. I had been praying daily for him, yet had never had a dream about him (every other family member did) until very recently. The week prior to the dream I had been asking for a sign (not ecpecting one) that when he reaches the embrace of Christ that I would be informed some how. The week prior everyday I reminded Christ to make sure he got the merit of every offered mass, every action, prayer and thought anyone had for him since his death. I emplored for the salvation of his soul and forgiveness of his sins remaining at death and that he would be enbraced into heaven. (No one can truely know for sure when someone leaves purgatory finally and so I will not stop prayer regardless, perhaps he is still there) At the end of this week I had a vivid dream about him. It was like we met so many times before at their front door he was beaming with joy to see me and my family. Then later in the same dream I had a second encounter where my dad was as happy as I've ever recalled him being and conveyed a sence heartfelt thanks as we embraced for the longest of time. It was so real. We didn't talk just hugged and I could feel his joy permeating through me. It left a lasting impression with me that even if not in heaven yet (my heart tells me his is) God has him in good care and to trust. That was all I could remember. My mom couldn't contain her tears when I told her.
Beautiful! Tears of joy no doubt! You and your family gave your dad a great gift in all those Masses and prayers. Like you, I believe my parents are in Heaven, but I don't assume and I continue to pray and offer up my Masses for them. If they are in the full beatific vision, then I always ask the Lord to allow the merits of the Mass apply to that soul in Purgatory who has no one to pray for them. Peace and thanks for sharing a truly beautiful story.
