John Callanan tells how a bargain struck between a mother and her daughter changed the daughter’s life and faith.
Last week I came across a lovely story that I’d like to share with you. Well, more of a personal experience than a story, really.
I’m a chaplain in a university, and probably because of this, I was asked if I’d come and attend one of the Legion of Mary meetings. These are held every week and this particular one had an enrolment theme. Not to put too fine a point on it, one of the new students wanted to join the gathering and prayers of welcome were to be said for him that evening. The group wanted a priest to say these prayers and I suppose they thought that I might fit the bill.
I have to come clean here. I don’t know too much about the Legion. Though I wouldn’t admit it in public, I suppose in my mind the organization has a slightly ‘Holy Mary’ image. I used to watch some of their members passing out prayer leaflets each Saturday in Dublin’s city centre and didn’t know whether to be mortified by their trusting quality or spellbound with admiration for their courage.
Anyway, let me get back to the evening in question. To make it a bit special, the Legion had invited one of their ex-members to come along and give a talk. They gave her free rein about choosing a topic and she had decided to speak about her time in university. This was rich and varied. She also decided to reveal what
persuaded her to join the Legion. At that point, I sat up and began to take notice.
The speaker we were about to listen to was young, bright, and extremely talented. Not my typical image of what a Legion member might look like (though perhaps that says a good deal more about me than about Legion members).
She began by telling us that she had chosen medicine as her field of study at college. Ever since early childhood, she had always been fascinated by it. She knew that the subject needed really high points for a person to gain entry to it but that did not particularly perturb her. She had always come close to the top of her class whilst in school and hoped for more of the same.
Everything went pretty much as expected – and as she had hoped for – during her first three years on her course. Top marks came easily. Her reputation was secure. It was her fourth year of study that brought a rude awakening.
Somehow or other, distractions of all sorts came along. Her marks – and her life – began to unravel. Things got so desperate that she honestly believed that not only was she not going to get the honours she expected but that she was unlikely to get any honours at all. She began to see that, realistically, she might not qualify.
It was at that point that her mother came into the story, so the patron saint of mothers can now stand up and take a bow. In fact all mothers can probably give themselves a pat on the back and begin to feel good about themselves. This particular mother obviously had a deep faith but wasn’t going to offer easy solutions to difficult problems.
‘I’ll pray for your success,’ she promised, ‘but only if you agree to join the Legion of Mary for a year as Our Lady’s efforts are going to be needed in this struggle. More than that, I won’t hold you to the bargain if you do not receive honours.’
This agreement seemed reasonable to the student herself. ‘I had little enough chance of a pass, let alone honours,’ she told us, ‘so I wasn’t too worried about having to pay the price.’ She committed herself to the deal and I don’t have to tell you what happened.
The results came out and the darling daughter found she had gained gained first-class honours. However, she realized she had done a deal and now felt she had to stick with it. That’s how she became a Legion member – most unwillingly, it has to be said.
Shortly afterwards, a parish priest came to the university and talked with her group. He was from England and invited any Legion members to his parish. If they were willing to volunteer, he would have them over the next summer to give a retreat to his parishioners. Slightly to her own amazement, she volunteered. The decision changed her life – and faith.
‘I became a doer, rather than an observer,’ was the way she put it herself. ‘Whilst before I had sat at the feet of others and been passive, now I was actually engaged. I was on the front line – totally committed.
‘Those we visited said what our visits meant to them. I think they spoke the truth and it amazed me. I never actually thought that any actions of mine could inspire the faith of others. To a certain extent I can hardly believe it still. But deep down, I know it’s true.’
Perhaps parents or friends don’t pass on the faith. Maybe it’s caught rather than taught. If we keep our courage and our generosity, it might even be caught from us.
This article first appeared in The Messenger (November 2008), a publication of the Irish Jesuits.
