Anthony brought in a magnificent Italian wall-sized rosary, which drew ooh’s and aah’s, as they had never seen such a thing.  I brought in a CD of a broadcast quality recitation of the Rosary I had obtained from nearby WBVM-fm (www.spiritfm905.com).

Today being Sunday, I set up the CD to play the Glorious Mysteries for the class.  Coincidentally, at the Mass just proceeding the class there had been a ceremony of dedication of the new Confirmation class for 2010, and part of the ceremony had been renewal of the truths of the Creed, so I explained to the kids how this was significant,  because they for their part would be hearing at the start of the Rosary the Apostles Creed, which contains a lot of the truths we are trying to teach them.  The WBVM Spirit FM production is done as a Scriptural Rosary, with a verse of scripture voiced before each Hail Mary.  I am sure this was new to them, even those who already had some experience with the Rosary.

We prayed and listened to only one decade, and then shut of the player so that we could teach and elaborate on what had just transpired.  I was surprised that even in awhole hour we were not able to bring out everyting we should have liked.

At the last minute I told them how when Our Lady appeared at Lourdes she had a yellow Rosary in her hands.  I expected that on this basis the kids who had selected the red ones would want to turn them back for yellow ones, but nothing like this developed.  I suppose they were just glad that the class had ended and they could go home.

In the weeks following, every few days he came by and delivered empty beer cases and other boxes for me to use in my packing.  I came to find out that Charlie was the manager of the rummage sale operations at a good-sized local church and, yes, a Godsend.  Besides helping me with the formidable packing challenge he set me up with tables at the church’s big rummage sales so that I could dispose of a fair amount of clutter and put some money in my pocket.

Amazingly,  I could detect no hint of him expecting a quid pro quo for all his gracious and unstinting real life help.  I hadn’t seen many examples of freely offered selfless assistance without strings, but this was certainly one instance (I can say in retrospect).  I didn’t even have to listen to any prayer or witness!

I mention women because my arm strength was merely womanly, and soft fat me couldn’t do chin ups.  But aha!  There were always a couple of fine lads standing there grasping one’s legs as he struggled to perform the repetitions.  Maybe this was to keep one from swinging back and forth wildly from all the exertion.  They would always perceive that I was not chin up material and would charitably lift from below to help me to draw my face up over the bar, if only to keep the chow line moving.  To me it was Salvation.

One day a keen eyed, driven officer looking about for chinks in the armor somehow saw through this nonsense and had me drop down to do pushups, something else that was not in my repertoire.   He alternatively employed insult, threat and contempt  but soon recognized I was little more than a quivering, unmuscled blob.

A second Salvation appeared in the form of the genteel Executive Officer, who came to my defense pointing out that I was a college graduate with  desirable traits distinct from  physical powesss, and put an end to the ‘chewing out’.

Our high school at that time was deep into football and our team was playing teams from all over the country instead of the usual bunch of other local high schools that might be expected.  Teams and supporters were brought in from hither and yon each week.  We even had our own football stadium or a sort that might belong to a college, not a high school.

I don’t remember what team  it was that was bussed in to play us that day; actually I only remember the names of a very few of the teams we played way back then.  On that particular day, for some reason I was carrying along, before the game started, some kind of placard sign on a stick, maybe supporting our team, maybe proclaiming some other message.  As I walked along in front of the stands I encountered a bunch of kids from the other school coming the other way.  High spirited and, I guess, full of fun, they (I think somewhat playfully) grabbed and forced down my placard on a stick  and  put me out of business as a sidewalk advertiser.

Out of nowhere some of my friends came charging out of the stands coming to my defense, setting the visitors back on their heels and turning the tide in favor of our side.  That’s all — no big deal.  It was over, no punches thrown, no blood spilt.  Just an unexpected demonstraton of loyalty and friendship coming to me in a moment of seeming peril.  It warmed my heart, in the cool, unobservable way of teenage boys.

It wasn’t at first clear to me what kind of talk was expected of me.  Speaking to one of the leaders, I found that it was not necessarily to be on one of the established themes, but rather to just be something drawn from my own life that might touch or be of some import to the attendees.  I thought of relating a couple of Army experiences, one of humiliation and the other, related, of getting some well-appreciated support.  I thought of recounting a few of my failures with women, making a play for pity as one of life’s  losers from all the married  ’salt of the earth’ types I’d be addressing.  Or I could go about how I’m not primarily concerned with the Top Ten for Men of sports,work, wife, kids, dog, house, car, lawn, TV,  and sports [sic].

A few more subjects occurred to me, but I finally decided to talk about three times in my life when other people unexpectedly came to my assistance, times which I might subtly suggest were the work of the Lord.

Coincidentally, this morning I reported to the medical offices which serve me for a couple of ultrasound examinations.  As I lay on the examining table and chatted with the gentleman performing the tests I remembered and told him about the amazing video I had seen the night before.  I made a point of mentioning that they did state that it was not an ultrasound, but he could not believe that it would have been anything else but an ultrasound.   I left the offices hoping that he would look further into the nature of the process, if only for professional reasons.  I felt glad to have told someone in a timely manner of what I had witnessed, and I also mentioned that it would be widely distributed by the Pro Life community.

I had been watchinga number of  TV presentations about St. Padre Pio and I think my mind switched over from its usual way of of seeing everything through my own individual viewpoint and instead seeing me as just a member of a wide communality, similar to the way the Saint was caringly aware of all the needs and trials of the people who cried out to him. As I sat in the prayer group I looked about at the twenty or so other members and saw each one as a partner in a benign awareness of God’s realm.  About the same time a parade of my relatives, friends and acquaintances passed through my mental notice and I quickly prayed or wished well for each one, almost as though I had a rubber stamp or magic wand that made praying for them brisk and efficient.

The frame of mind hasn’t lingered since, although a memory of it persists and my general outlook has changed a little, as I realize that there is a better way of focusing on His Kingdom with a sense of the importance of others, keeping them in the awareness of who is involved.