For all you St. Monicas

A story for all you St. Monicas out there who pray without ceasing

for the return of your loved one to the Catholic Faith

"When we pray for our prodigal Catholics, we are also building."

(The author of the original story is unknown.  It has been edited and enhanced with my comments.  ~MaryAnn)

A woman named Charlotte said she realized one day that she must be invisible.  Her family never noticed what she did and often paid no attention to what she said.  They never seemed to notice when she was on the phone, or cooking a meal, or reading a book because they always seemed to figure she could drop everything and help them. 

She said, “Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: ‘Can you fix this?  Can  you tie this? Some days I'm a clock to ask, ‘What time is it?’ I'm a car to  order,  ‘Right around 5:30, please.’ "

She was certain she had hands that once held books, eyes that studied history and a mind that graduated cum laude, but they had apparently disappeared into the peanut butter jar.

       One night, she was dining with a group of friends, one who had returned from a fabulous trip abroad and was sharing her experiences.  As the woman looked around the room and listened, she began to feel as if she had accomplished little in the everyday existence that was her life.        Then her friend who had just returned gave her a gift.  It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. The inscription read: "To Charlotte, with  admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one  sees."

In the days ahead, as she read the book, Charlotte discovered four life-changing truths, after which she then patterned her work:

     No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of  their  names.

     These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see  finished.

     They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

     The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes  of  God saw everything.

     She read of a workman whose was carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam.  A visitor asked the man, "Why  are  you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be  covered by the roof? No one will ever see it."

    The workman replied,  "Because God sees."

    Charlotte said, “I heard God whispering, ‘I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, when no one else does. No act of kindness you've done is  too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.’ ‘

      Charlotte now sees her invisibility as the cure for self-centeredness, an antidote to  pride.  She knows she is one of those people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.  She says she doesn’t want her son to tell the friend he brings home for Thanksgiving about all the work his mom will do to make the meal, but to tell his friend, “You’re gonna love it at my house!”

     Although this is a story written about women, it applies to both men and women who pray for the return of a prodigal Catholic instead of preaching to them, who stuggle to get to prayer group every week, who cheerfully fast, who join their physical and mental suffering with that of the Lord Jesus—all done as acts of faith that God will someday fulfill his promise to bring His lost sheep back to the fold.   We don’t wish for our prodigals to say “I returned because my mom (or dad or grandparents or other loved one) were martyrs for the cause.”  We want them to say “I returned because something huge was missing in my life.  I re-discovered Jesus and His Church—and I need them.” 

      St. Monica may not always get the credit but it was her perseverance in prayer that provided the bricks in her prodigal’s life upon which God built a saint.  Today the world marvels that one who led the life of Augustine’s early adult years, could have become St. Augustine, a great doctor of the Church.

      When we pray for our prodigal Catholics, we are also building. If we're doing it right, we’re virtually invisible.  And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices we offered. And heaven will rejoice at a soul that was lost and now has been found.