Our cemetery is located behind St. Mary’s, in a secluded spot on the Madawaska River. It is a peaceful place, intruded upon only by the noise of motorboats in summer and my lawn mower. There are about a dozen staff buried there, including the last one to go home to the Lord, Mary Pennefather.

(Another dozen or so, including Catherine and Fr. Eddie, are buried in the parish cemetery between Madonna House and St. Mary’s.)

Of course, we Catholics pray for our dead, and November is the month especially dedicated to that intention. But we also pray to our dead, in the hope that they are already in heaven with the Lord, and thereby attentive to our need here on earth for their help.

That is the category I operate under whenever I cut the lawn over the graves of our dead.

"Do you realize how many vocations we could use? What’s the hold up? Why aren’t you getting some more for us? Incidentally, thanks for the ones we’re getting; they are beautiful. But why not twice as many? Your departure has left a big gap, you know. So, what gives?"

"Archbishop Joseph, greetings! While you are ‘awaiting the Resurrection’ (the words on the archbishop’s cross), how about helping Father Ron! He’s been feeling poorly for too long. When are you going to come through for him? As your director general, I demand action!"

I have a familiar relationship with our dead community members. Since they loved me (and put up with me) when they were living on earth, I figure they can do even better now that they are with the Lord in heaven.

Such is my reasoning. To emphasize the point, I tap each wooden cross as I carefully cut around it and the geraniums in front of it.

"Yes, I mean you. Are you listening? Are you remembering us, or have you taken a holiday or what?"

I’ve been especially insistent with Jim Guinan, Bill Jakali, and Tom Egan, three of our deceased laymen in this plot: "So? Haven’t you noticed that your brothers are short of help in a few areas, and how stretched they are?

"True, it’s all very sanctifying, but there is a limit! And don’t forget the missions are crying daily for male assistance! Just thought I’d remind you of the facts of earthly life."

I am reasonably certain that Tom Egan especially, doesn’t mind my ranting, since throughout his life he always refused to pray, "May the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace." He always substituted live in glory.

What could be a more glorious thing to do than obtain more lay apostles (and perhaps some future priests thrown into the bargain) for our Madonna House family?

"So, Tom, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Is praying for and to the dead part of your normal routine of prayer?

Actually, it helps to go to the cemetery itself to inspire such prayer. At least it does for me.

There is a peace that pervades blessed and consecrated ground. And there is a quiet joy and gratitude that comes over me when I think of lives given over to the Lord and his Church.

Memories come flooding back of encounters and time spent with each one. It doesn’t seem to matter even with those I perhaps knew less well. The same sense of presence and welcome pervades.

Does all this sound a bit strange to the modern mentality? It seems the Lord has decided to teach me a bit more about prayer and about the communion of saints this year.

There is a comfort in discovering that I am surrounded by this "cloud of witnesses" who are on my side and who want to help me in my journey home.

I’ve also come to see more clearly that persistence in prayer is more necessary than ever. It seems to me that nothing ever gets accomplished for the kingdom of heaven (earthly division) without the battle cry of prayer, prayer, and more prayer.

If anyone showed that facet of faith to our MH family, it was Mary Pennefather, whom we called "Mary P.".

In this issue of our newspaper, we will be telling you more about her life. What stays with me is that this delicate lady, anxious and poor in many ways, was such a warrior when it came to interceding for the many, many people who counted on her prayers.

Everyone who knew her would say: "Mary was pure in heart." How was that purity of heart expressed? Very simply: by accepting whatever each day brought forth. Unlike so many of us here (and maybe some of you!), Mary did not have "a better idea" about how the present day should have turned out.

I never heard her hold forth on how she wished her life had had a better beginning, or how she wished she had better gifts.

Mary seemed to have only one idea: to accept the reality and the cross that each day presented and to make the best of it.

To get to that point must have taken a lot of praying. Well, Mary did a lot of praying. It was prayer that anchored her into the mystery of Christ and thereby gave him "permission" to pray in her as he saw fit.

It’s only from time to time that we meet someone who has let Christ take over to such an extent, that now it is he who is directing the prayer, he who is interceding in a person.

It seemed to me that this was what was happening in Mary Pennefather.

There was a determination in her, a commitment to praying for you, that defied all human calculation or expectation. It was as if God could wage war against the powers of hell themselves through this meek and tender soul.

One could just sense the demons fleeing when she would greet a troubled soul, or pray for someone in terrible distress. Everything she had went into that prayer: sufferings, offerings, recited prayers, rosaries, kneeling on the bare floor, the Mass. There was literally no end to her gift of love.

In any event, I now have one further soul to trouble when the grass-cutting season resumes in the spring!

May the prayers of the entire communion of saints—on earth, in purgatory, and in heaven—rise up to the Lord to obtain all the graces he is so ready to lavish upon us.

Okay, Mary P.: how about some vocations?