Memorial of Saint Monica
By Melanie Rigney
... We wanted to present ourselves as a model for you, so that you might imitate us. (2 Thessalonians 3:9)
“And you say, ‘If we had lived in the days of our ancestors, we would not have joined them in shedding the prophets’ blood.’ Thus you bear witness against yourselves that you are the children of those who murdered the prophets; now fill up what your ancestors measured out!” (Matthew 23:30-32)
Piety
Lord, on this day that we honor Saint Monica for her patient prayers that led to the conversion of Augustine and others, I am thankful for the prayers others have offered up for me, those I know well and those I barely know. In turn, I pray that all of those in my life may come to a deeper love of you.
Study
I used a set of rosary beads that belonged to one of my grandmothers’ the other day. The beads have a bit of grit on them. I like to think the grit comes not from disuse, but from the finger oils of Mary Johanna Organist Smith or Lily May Schumacher Rigney.
They were very different, my grandmothers. Grandma Smith, a lifelong Catholic, was born to Polish immigrants. She was almost 24 when the love of her life married her and converted. Most of their eight kids still were at home when he died 30 years later. Grandma Smith was known for her quick temper, love of shopping, and never passing the queen in Hearts.
Grandma Rig converted to Catholicism when she married at 18. After her husband died, she stayed on at their ranch house, keeping more than 30 years of newspapers, rocks, cereal boxes, curios, and other stuff to the point that there was a single three-foot wide path through the place. She liked to sing off-key, travel with men, and smoke unfiltered cigarettes.
I don’t remember which of them owned this rosary. I suspect it was Grandma Smith, because Grandma Rig had this cool glow-in-the-dark rosary that we grandkids were all a little scared to touch. But I don’t know for sure.
I thought about both women as I worked through the rosary. Maybe they did or maybe they didn’t pray each day for the continual conversion of their children and grandchildren. I don’t recall either of them ever talking about God to me, or going to church. But each in some way—independence, strength, resilience—inspired and continue to inspire me by example. While we honor Saint Monica today for her public petitions on behalf of her son, husband, and mother-in-law, there’s also something to be said for the power that seeing people simply living good and decent lives provides.
One named Mary, because she was born September 8 in 1900; the other, born September 9, 1895, carried a derivative of Mary’s name as her middle name for no reason other than that her parents liked the sound of it. I said a decade of Hail Marys and gave thanks for each of them.
Action
Think about your own continual conversion. Who are or who have been your Saint Monicas, publicly or privately? Do something to honor them today.
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