A MOVING - STATUE OF MARY (1980)

It was Friday morning. My youngest daughter, before going to the neighborhood Catholic grade school (We are not Catholic) reminded me once again that she needed a long-sleeve white blouse for school the following Monday. I had been searching with no luck for such a blouse in her size for over two weeks at department stores, and several small children's shops . That morning my husband mentioned to me how strange he thought it was that we couldn't find a simple, long-sleeve white blouse, and I agreed it was odd. After dropping the girls off at school, I remembered a small resale shop that I used to go to that carried children's clothing. By this time, my husband had run out of patience for shopping. "This will be the last place," I promised him.
Upon entering, I was surprised to see that they had a long rack filled with assorted sizes of long-sleeved white blouses. As I was standing in the aisle, sorting throught the blouses, I felt a slight tug on my right shoulder. I thought I was out too far in the aisle and someone wanted to get by. So I moved closer to the blouses and continued sorting. About a minute later, there was another light tug on my right shoulder, this time I turned my head to see who had touched me. To my surprise, there was no one on either side of me! Even though I could still feel the impression left from being touched. Shrugging it off, I resumed what I was doing and finally found a blouse in my daughter's size. And, once more, I felt someone tug ever so lightly on my right shoulder. But, this time, I turned completely around ready to confront whomever had been touching me.
And, as I did so, suddenly, I was struck with 'tunnel vision' as my eyes fell on an eight-inch, religious, plastic statue of Mary (mother of Jesus). She was at least thirty feet away, sitting in a glass showcase. But, I could see her -- and only her -- so clearly. She was radiantly beautiful, and for a moment, I truly believe she was smiling at me.
I felt tingly and so alive and so overcome with happiness that I literally raced toward the front of the store scaring the daylights out of the young cashier. I blurted out that I wanted the statue of Mary. She didn't know what I was talking about, so I pointed to the statue in the showcase she was standing over. As she reached down to pick her up, she looked at Mary and said, "Surely you don't want this old plastic statue. I don't know why they put this out here. It's all dirty and the color has faded off it." I said that I didn't care; I wanted her anyway! She looked puzzled and asked me if I wanted to know the price. I said that it didn't matter how much she costs. She sighed and wrapped the statue in the white blouse and put them both into a plastic bag.
When I was getting into the car somehow the statue of Mary was in my hands -- no longer wrapped up in the blouse that was still in the plastic bag. So, I showed her to my husband, and he immediately said, "We're not Catholic." And I replied, "I know, but I have to take her home with me." For some reason, I didn't tell him what had happened inside the store.
Upon arriving at our home, I was still tingling. And, I felt so alive standing there on my front porch. I had the plastic bag with the blouse hanging off my left wrist and the statue of Mary cradled in my right hand, as I waited for my husband to come and unlock the front door. While waiting, I started to wonder why I wasn't using my keys to open the door. When suddenly, I was moved spiritually to cradle the plastic statue of Mary in both hands. When I did so -- Praise God! -- the statue moved in my hands. I was so shocked that I dropped her! At that moment, every second of her falling from my hands, I saw in a kind of spiritual slow-motion. And, with both of my hands, still cradled, I reached down (still in 'spiritual slow-motion') and caught her about a foot before she would have hit the porch floor. She was still moving when I brought her into my home.
I don't remember how I got into my house, and I have never asked my husband whether on that Glorious day he opened the locked door. But, I did tell him ( a little later that same day) about the statue of Mary...what happened in the store...and her miraculous movement in my hands. He just looked at me in a strange way and smiled. The statue of Mary has never moved in my husband's presence. Perhaps everything that happened was only for me to experience. Praise God!

Please, always pray for someone you don't know. And, tell no one who that person is. May God Bless You.

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