On the Catholic Church calendar, May is devoted to Mary. It is especially appropriate, since Mother’s Day is celebrated at the beginning of the month.
This was the purpose for posting my experiences in the previous two topics under the heading, “The Eye Of The Beholder.” I believe Mary is a model for womanhood and motherhood. We can always turn to her in difficult times for comfort; especially for those of us whose mothers are no longer present.
“Love Mary! She is loveable, faithful, constant. She will never let herself be outdone in love, but will ever remain supreme. If you are in danger, she will hasten to free you. If you are sick, she will bring you her relief. If you are in need, she will help you. She does not look to see what kind of person you have been. She simply comes to a heart that wants to love her.” – St. Gabriel Possenti of Our Lady Of Sorrows
Often Catholics are misunderstood in their devotion to Mary. We hold her in high esteem and seek her intercession with Our Lord, Jesus Christ. To disregard Mary’s station; would be like visiting a friend, and on entering the house, you walk past your friend’s mother without greeting her. We worship Christ, but we honor His mother.
At Calvary, Christ, while being crucified, told the Apostle John; “Behold your mother.” And to Mary He said; “Woman, behold your son.” It was not a sign of disrespect for Jesus to call His mother “woman,” because at that point the church was formed-Mary becoming the mother of all its members and John being its first member. So as John, we too who are members of Christ’s church, are also sons and daughters of Mary. And, as well, we are brothers and sisters of Jesus.
I will end this tribute to Mary with a poem I wrote, in memory (as best I could express), of the aforementioned experience I shared with her so many years ago.
With nearness the countenance becomes clear.
As modesty shrouds the head.
Configuration of the mouth divulges naught.
While the eyes reveal all-knowing truth.
Eyes piercing, yet placid.
Commanding, yet comforting.
Inviting the jaded and confused,
as much as, the avid and lucid.
The solitary blemish witnessed,
is a crimson tear,
gently rolling down silken cheek.
Shed for the likes of me.