Divine Mercy

Mostly she wore pigtails. Somehow they suited her, with her big smile, sunny outlook and humble demeanor. Everybody was a friend and harsh words never seemed to pass her lips. In her early sixties, she had seen enough life to not care that some might find her hairstyle a bit young. It suited her.

She and her husband moved to be closer to their daughter and grandkids. She had spoiled her son’s children long enough; now it was time to spoil her daughter’s children. She was drawn to the church community where her daughter and family worshipped. It felt like home to her, so she decided to see what it was all about.

She spent months learning about the Church’s teachings and explored how this community could help her deepen her relationship with God. She had always been faithful and she and her husband had raised their children as Christians. But this community offered more – things she hadn’t encountered before.

As the months wore on, she got more and more excited about formalizing her commitment to the new community. She yearned for the day when she would make a profession of faith, be confirmed in the Holy Spirit, and receive the Eucharist. She was almost there.

She arrived at the final retreat with her signature hairstyle and a barely-contained enthusiasm. She had done a thorough examination of conscience, going back through her life and stopping at the times she had distanced herself from God in thought, word and deed. For the first time she would speak of those things with the priest, let them go, ask for forgiveness and feel the power of God’s mercy and love.

When her turn was over, she motioned to the retreat leader and asked if she could go outside. Together they left the quiet room where others awaited their turn to speak of sin and be forgiven. “I’m so happy,” she cried. “I could feel God’s presence and I know that I am forgiven and loved. For the first time in my life I feel FREE.” And then, in the sheer joy of true grace, she skipped down the sidewalk, pigtails bouncing.