Time is a sacred reality


By Kathy Berken

Kathy Berken

When I was a little girl, my mother taught me to pray. I remember sitting on the wooden floor in my parents’ bedroom, my mom sitting on a chair holding a book, a lit candle on the table. One day my mom gave me a white board book with a cross carved into the front. Think hard­cover book without the pages. On the inside was a picture of the Blessed Mother and a prayer titled “Lovely Lady Dressed in Blue.” What a treasure!
But this story isn’t about Mary or prayer. Strangely, it’s about St. Patrick, his Celtic friends and the sound that the shellacked cardboard made when I closed the book’s covers. I guess I opened and closed it one too many times just to hear the muffled snap because I remember my mom scolding me, “Kathy, stop playing with your prayer book.” She probably added, “It’s not a toy.”

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