| TITLE : The Power of the Beads |
TEXT :
>THE POWER OF THE BEADS
>
>Jim Castle was tired when he boarded his plane in Cincinnati, Ohio, that
>night in 1981. The 45-year-old management consultant had put on a week-long
>series of business meetings and seminars, and now he sank gratefully into
>his seat ready for the flight home to Kansas City, Kansas.
>
>As more passengers entered, the place hummed with conversation, mixedwith
>the sound of bags being stowed. Then, suddenly, people fell silent. The
>quiet moved slowly up the aisle like an invisible wake behind a boat.
>
>Jim craned his head to see what was happening, and his mouth dropped open.
>Walking up the aisle were two nuns clad in simple white habits bordered in
>blue. He recognized the familiar face of one at once, the wrinkled skin, the
>eyes warmly intent. This was a face he'd seen in newscasts and on the
>cover of TIME. The two nuns halted, and Jim realized that his seat companion
>was going to be Mother Teresa!
>
>As the last few passengers settled in, Mother Teresa and her companion
>pulled out rosaries. Each decade of the beads was a different colour, Jim
>noticed. The decades represented various areas of the world, Mother Teresa
>told him later, and added, "I pray for the poor and dying on each
>continent." The airplane taxied to the runway, and the two women began to
>pray, their voices a low murmur.
>
>Though Jim considered himself not a very religious Catholic who went to
>church mostly out of habit, inexplicably he found himself joining in. By the
>time they murmured the final prayer, the place had reached cruising
>altitude. Mother Teresa turned toward him. For the first time in his life,
>Jim understood what people meant when they spoke of a person possessing an
>"aura". As she gazed at him, a sense of peace filled him; he could no more
>see it than he could see the wind,but he felt it, just as surely as he felt
>a warm summer breeze. "Young man," she inquired, "do you say the rosary
>often?" "No, not really," he admitted. She took his hand, while her eyes
>probed his. Then she smiled. "Well, you will now." And she dropped her
>rosary into his palm.
>An hour later Jim entered the Kansas City airport, where he was met by his
>wife, Ruth.
>"What in the world?" Ruth asked when she noticed the rosary in his hand.
>They kissed and Jim described his encounter. Driving home, he said. "I feel
>as if I met a true sister of God."
>
>Nine months later Jim and Ruth visited Connie, a friend of theirs for
>several years. Connie confessed that she'd been told she had ovarian
>cancer. "The doctor says it's a tough case," said Connie, "but I'm going to
>fight it. I won't give up." Jim clasped her hand. Then, after
>reaching into his pocket, he gently twined Mother Teresa's rosary around her
>fingers. He told her the story and said, "Keep it with you Connie. It may
>help."
>
>Although Connie wasn't Catholic, her hand closed willingly around the small
>plastic beads. "Thank you," she whispered. "I hope Ican return it."
>
>More than a year passed before Jim saw Connie again. This time, face
>glowing, she hurried toward him and handed him the
>rosary "I carried it with me all year," she said. "I've had surgery and
>have been on chemotherapy, too. Last month, the doctors
>did second-look surgery, and the tumour's gone. Completely!" Her eyes met
>Jim's. "I knew it was time to give the rosary back."
>
>In the fall of 1987, Ruth's sister, Liz, fell into a deep depression after
>her divorce. She asked Jim if she could borrow the rosary, and when he sent
>it, she hung it over her bedpost in a small velvet bag. "At night I held on
>to it, just physically held on. I was so lonely and
>afraid," she says,"yet when I gripped that rosary, I felt as if I held a
>loving hand."
>
>Gradually, Liz pulled her life together, and she mailed the rosary back.
>"Someone else may need it," she said.
>
>Then one night in 1988, a stranger telephoned Ruth. She'd heard about the
>rosary from a neighbour and asked if she could borrow it to take to the
>hospital where her mother lay in a coma. The family hoped the rosary might
>help their mother die peacefully. A few days later, the woman returned the
>beads. "The nurses told me a coma patient can still hear," she said, "so I
>explained to my mother that I had Mother Teresa's rosary and that when I
>gave it to her she could let go; it would be all rosary in her hand. Right
>away, we saw her face relax. The lines smoothed out until she looked so
>peaceful, so young." The woman's voice caught. "A few minutes later she was
>gone." Fervently, she gripped Ruth's hands. "Thank you."
>
>Is there special power in those humble beads? Or is the power of the human
>spirit simply renewed in each person who borrows the rosary? Jim only knows
>that requests continue to come often unexpectedly. He always responds though
>whenever he lends the rosary. He
>says, "When you're through needing it, send it back. Someone else may need
>it."
>
>Jim's own life has changed, too, since his unexpected meeting on the
>airplane. When he realized Mother Teresa carries everything she owns in a
>small bag, he made an effort to simplify his own life. "I try to remember
>what really counts - not money or titles or possessions, but the way we love
>others," he says.
>
>MAY GOD BLESS YOU ABUNDANTLY,MOTHER MARY ASK HER SON JESUS TO SHOWER YOU
>WITH GRACES
>
>Please feel free to pass this mail on especially to all those in despair so
>that they might know that they are not alone in their hour of need. The
>reason I sent you this mail is because I know the power of these
>simplebeads, and I want to share it with you. |
Copyright©2002 The
Japan Catholic Medical Association. AllRightsReserved.
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