A story for every day...

A pious priest tells us: I was sitting in my room when a man of about sixty-five years of age, almost blind, was introduced to me. To my great surprise, he told me he was a Catholic, or rather, he said, “I was once a Catholic.” He had married a Protestant, long since dead; and for about forty-five years he had not practiced his religion or gone to confession. “Lately, he says, I felt greatly troubled and did not know what to do. A Catholic neighbor had given me a rosary, and I began to recite it; but the more I said it, the more my trouble increased. Now I can’t stand it any longer; something compels me to come to you and ask you what I should do.”

After a few words of encouragement I told him to prepare himself for confession, and to come at such and such an hour. He came and confessed with admirable dispositions, strengthened his soul with the Bread of Angels and recovered peace. From then on, he attended Mass regularly, as much as he could, and received the sacraments with constant devotion. The Rosary, which had been the instrument of his conversion, was the instrument of his perseverance. All his time was devoted to reciting it, and in this he found so much consolation and grace that his thoughts were all heavenly. A few years later, he died the death of the just, and went away to thank the Mother of Mercy who had chained him to the good by the sweet chain of the most holy Rosary.