Back to Lent Menu
inspirational Stories
for Lent
(Check back for
new additions throughout Lent)
This
little story about praying is an old worn one that bounces around the Internet
in many different versions. I doubt it is possible to identify who wrote the
original one, but we thank him/her for the inspiration. Enjoy.
…………………
Chair by Her Bed
~Unknown Author
A priest stopped in my coffee shop this afternoon. As I poured a cup for him, I
asked how his day was going.
He answered, “It’s been quite a day. I’m Father Ron, the new Catholic
chaplain at the hospital. Yesterday, I stopped to see a patient who had been
admitted the day before. Her name was Terri. When I went to sit down on the
chair next to her bed, I noticed a rosary on the seat. I picked it up and said,
‘I guess your rosary fell down on the chair. Where should I put it?’
“I’ll take it Father. If I don’t have it in my hands, it’s usually right
there on the chair seat. You see, Father, for many years I never felt
comfortable about praying. My mom had taught me how to pray the rosary, so I
did. But I was just repeating what I had memorized. I didn’t understand what
was going on. A few years back, my best friend came to visit. I shared my
feelings about prayer with her. She said I should try to see prayer as just
simply talking with God and telling him about my life, and realize that praying
the rosary is talking with Mary and asking her to take my requests to heaven’s
throne room. My friend suggested I sit down with an empty chair in front of me
and believe that Jesus or Mary—or sometimes both of them or, maybe even the
entire Trinity, are there with me. After all, Jesus promised, ‘I'll be with you
always.’”
“And then talk,” my friend said. “When you say those memorized prayers of
the rosary, think about what they really mean. You’ll find they are part of the
conversation, too.”
“So, that’s what I started doing, Father. And, you know what? I realized
Jesus is always ready to listen when I want to talk and ramble on. In my heart,
He talks to me, too. I’ve asked Him to turn each Hail Mary I pray into a rose
for His mother. Now, my praying the rosary is like picking flowers for Heaven.
I also discovered that with each Hail Mary, I am asking her to be with me now
and at the time of my death. Prayer has become a comfort because it’s a visit
with good friends.”
The chaplain continued, “This morning I stopped by Terri’s room and found
her family there. She died early this morning. Her son thanked me for stopping
by. ‘Mom told us she met you yesterday. She had a peaceful death. Just as we
expected, Mom held on to her rosary until the end. But, she surprised all of us
a ittle. Just before she took her last breath, she raised up a little, leaned
over, and put her head on that chair by her bed.’ “
|