Please Pick for me a Rose

St. Terese of Lisieux is one of the most adored and revered saints of the Catholic Church. She lived and extremely humble, simple life away and may have never been noticed so much if it hadn't been for the autobiography she wrote while in the convent, which revealed her simple, yet beautifully passionate faith for the Lord.

Right before she died, St. Terese promised to send a shower of roses down on the earth while she was in heaven. So now, whenever someone prays a Rose Novena to St. Terese, they get a rose. Obviously roses don't just come falling from the sky and into someone´s hands. Rather, they may see a rose on TV, or on a card or even a print on someone´s shirt and be reminded of God´s love. Other stories are more miraculous, like a dozen roses floating by you in a lake, while your boyfriend proposes to you in a canoe (true story).

I will admit that I never was much of a fan of these rose novenas. Maybe because I never had any miraculous stories, only roses printed on shirts, and things like that. And every time that I would get my roses, I couldn't help but wonder if it was just mere coincidence, or I was just noticing roses more because I was praying the novena.

That´s why when I began my rose novena here in Honduras, I was a bit skeptical. Especially because I hadn't seen a single rose since the day I stepped foot in Honduras. They just aren't common here at all. However, I had a feeling one day that I should start it, so I did. Admittingly somewhat half-heartedly each day.

On the fifth day, I got my rose. I had gone to a youth group that is held in the church every Saturday. The only reason I remembered to go, is because I was hanging out outside of a family´s house on the street, when some of the kids passed by going to the group. I still wasn't going to go, as I was caught up in conversation with the girl who lived in the house, but one of the kids looked up at me as she passed, and asked me if I was going. I felt bad, especially since I had talked to them about going earlier. So I went, and sat through a rather disappointing meeting, where they just sat around talking about how frustrated they were that no one ever came to the meetings. No praying was done, no songs were sang, no inspirational talks were given. Nothing. As I got up to leave, I noticed a few older women enter the church and go to the front and sit down, as if they were waiting for something to start. I asked one of the kids, and she told me they were praying a rosary. Intrigued, I walked towards the front, and sat down and began praying with them.

It wasn't until we were about half way through the rosary, when I finally noticed a large vase placed at the foot of the statue we were facing. In the vase were 8 beautiful roses staring right at me. 2 red, and 6 pink. My eyes quickly filled with tears, as I remembered that it was the last day of my rose novena. I had no idea where they came from, or why they were there, but I knew that in that specific moment, they were just for me.