Life went on, and I grew up with little spurts of praying the rosary. Since I attended Catholic school with nuns as teachers from first grade through my graduation as a dietitian, I have memories of the rosary throughout those years. However, by the time I arrived at Madonna House, Combermere, at the age of 26, I was no longer saying the rosary at all.

I joined Madonna House and soon afterwards, I was sent to one of our mission houses, Our Lady of Aquia House in Virginia, a retreat center for families. It was there that I came up against the intensity of community living and came to the conclusion that Madonna House was not my vocation.

The director of Aquia House urged me to at least consult my spiritual director, so I gave him a call. I told him that I wanted to leave Madonna House.

He listened to me, and then said, "Just do me one favor. Pray one decade of the rosary before you leave."

"How silly!" I thought. But even though I couldn’t even find my rosary, I did it.

What happened after I said that decade? Peace, a peace beyond understanding, filled my heart.

That one little decade, prayed not from my heart, but reluctantly out of obedience, stopped me from leaving my vocation.

But then, though my journey continued in Madonna House, I still had very little connection with the rosary.

In 1973, I was assigned to MH Ottawa. There a few years later, a woman from India visited us and told us her story which included some heartfelt words about the rosary. I only remember her saying that the rosary contains Jesus, but the depth of her peace moved me.

From that day forward the rosary became part of my daily life.

However, for a while after that, I was still praying the rosary with my head and my lips. I did all kinds of spiritual gymnastics to try to pray the words while at the same time keeping in mind the mystery. It was a mental effort, but it brought peace. And I clung to the rosary.

Then one day I heard a nun speak about praying the rosary with your heart. I’d heard that before and had been pursuing praying with the heart in my other prayer. But she told us something new. "Be three years old when you pray the rosary," she said, and went on to explain how a child is unwaveringly intent upon his goal, transfixed by it.

So I did what I thought a three year old would do. I instructed myself to just look at the mystery, to take it in, to see it, to unite with it, to be there, to embrace it, to hug it to my heart.

And I’m here to tell you that by some mysterious spiritual chemistry I am becoming bonded to the mysteries in a kind of divine hug of peace.

How did this happen? I can’t explain it. But then, when I pray the rosary, I’m only three years old!