This fall, our parish had an outdoor living rosary.
If you are unfamiliar with a living rosary, let me explain — 59 people each held a candle, each one representing a bead on the rosary. Anyone from our parish was welcome to come, and they could all hold small candles throughout. We then recite the rosary as a group.
It’s really lovely, and it is a night that I look forward to each year. This year, we were able to all stand together as a family, which made it extra lovely.
Of course, no evening is without its giggles in our family.
At one point, Jack turned to me, “Why does he keep talking about swimmin’?” (He said, referring to the priest, who was reciting the first portion of the Hail Mary.)
“Swimming? Who’s talking about swimming?” I tried to quietly ask.
“No,” Jack looked annoyed, “swimmin’. He keeps talking about swimmin’.”
“Jack,” I said with a shortness in my tone, “Nobody is talking about anyone swimming.”
“Swimmin’,” Jack mutters under his breath.
I shot him a look that said, “Don’t you dare try that again.”
And, we continued praying.
Well…until I had to stifle my laughter.
You see, we usually say, “…Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of they womb, Jesus.” But, one of our newer associate pastors was saying it like this: “…Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of they womb, Jesus.”
Yeah, say that “amongst women” aloud, and you can hear the swimmin’ that Jack kept hearing.
When I quitely (and kindly) told him what was really going on, he looked relieved. I’m sure he thought the new pastor was clearly insane. And, quite frankly, I suspect he thought I wasn’t far behind.
photo by Angie ~ Many Little Blessings
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