You know, dear Mother, that these beads are always in my pocket. From my earliest days, there they have been, a constant reminder of You, a tangible sign of Your motherly protection and love; a sign of my love for You and a reminder to always do better.
As I learned the prayers in my childhood, simple repetition became ever-deeper meditation; the vocal body given a soul aflame. With You, I journeyed through the life of the Lord, Your Son; and in Your school, You taught me those things quietly pondered in Your Heart, from the Crib to Calvary.
In the darkness of the night, I have reached out for them so often, falling asleep with Your name on my lips, Your image in my heart. And in the dawn, Your name was uttered again, with love, and the Son shone brightly for me, brighter each passing day.
In times of sorrow or worry, I have turned to You in prayer and I know You have always heard and answered me – often in ways I did not foresee, as You are better able to judge what is good for me and what is not. But You always answered me. Never once was I forsaken.
In times of joy, I have prayed the beads to give You my thanks and to ask Your motherly assistance for those dear to me. You have always been there, always responded, always given me Your motherly blessing. And so I have turned to You anew, offering my filial love and devotion.
When those I have loved have gone from this life, these beads were in my hands, asking You to lead those souls safely home to Heaven. And You did, for You are the Star of the Sea, the Morning Star. And now those souls keep You company before the Lord.
At all the moments of my life, my Mother and Queen, there You have been, represented in these old, worn beads. As they have slipped through my fingers over and over, how much have I thought of You, how often have I whispered Your name, how deeply have I grown to love You.
These beads have carried the imprint of my life, they have been bathed in my tears of sorrow and of joy, they have been a constant companion, as You have been – this chain holding me always close to You, each bead a rose of love I have placed at Your feet.
And now, dearest Mother, as the light fades and my time here draws to an end, there in my hands those beads remain, Your name lingering still on my lips. In this final breath, O Mother, as the beads slip at last from my fingers, they are gently replaced by Your motherly hand, come to lead me home.