It was an accident that Mary ended up in my kitchen window. My mother in law was helping us unpack at a new house and placed the little figurine I had since childhood in the kitchen window so I wouldn’t lose her. Mary stayed there, watching over me and inspiring me in my sometimes turbulent journey into motherhood.
Throughout eight years of fertility treatment and adoption attempts, I always felt a unique consolation praying to Mary that no one else could give me. When our prayers were answered with two children through adoption, I knew we had been truly blessed but I was completely unprepared to be at home with two babies.
The transition from Fortune 100 corporate executive to the oldest mom is preschool was tough. I was in a new state, new city and a new season in life. Ironically, one of the main reasons I wanted to become a mother was selfish: I wanted to break out of my own selfishness and really serve another soul. I just didn’t realize how hard that was going to be. There were many times I felt despair and isolation, wondering if I was truly on the right path. One day, I remember scrubbing the floor and grousing to myself,” Is this what my graduate degree was really for?” when I saw Mother Mary in the window. Immediately, I checked myself and my arrogance. I am fairly certain Mary did not have a housekeeper. If the Mother of God scrubbed floors, I could too.
A new phase began for me. I started to ask myself “What would Mary do?” every time I became frustrated or despaired over the mundane tasks that were in front of me.
They did have value. If nothing else, I was learning lessons of humility. The Beatles had it right: “When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me. There will be an answer. Let it be.”
Mary in the window also helped me recapture the love I had for her in childhood. I remember my elementary school May altars with this same figurine of Mary. I would come home from school, check and water the flowers at the little altar in my room and pray to Mary. Where had that girl gone? And more importantly, how could I give that experience to me daughter?
We are in a different house now. Mary has moved from a window to a shelf with several other Marys and a St. Anne. These are my girls. They keep humble, grounded and sane, even if I still don’t like doing the floors.
~This essay is part of the Catholic Women’s Blog Hop! Click here to see what some other great bloggers are writing about Mary and motherhood!~
~Previously published at Blessed is She, a great resource for Catholic women!~