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inspirational Stories for Lent

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This little story about praying is an old worn one that bounces around the Internet in many different versions.  I doubt it is possible to identify who wrote the original one, but we thank him/her for the inspiration.  Enjoy.
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Chair by Her Bed  ~Unknown Author

     A priest stopped in my coffee shop this afternoon.  As I poured a cup for him, I asked how his day was going. 
     He answered, “It’s been quite a day.  I’m Father Ron, the new Catholic chaplain at the hospital.  Yesterday, I stopped to see a patient who had been admitted the day before.  Her name was Terri. When I went to sit down on the chair next to her bed, I noticed a rosary on the seat.  I picked it up and said, ‘I guess your rosary fell down on the chair.  Where should I put it?’
     “I’ll take it Father.  If I don’t have it in my hands, it’s usually right there on the chair seat.  You see, Father, for many years I never felt comfortable about praying.  My mom had taught me how to pray the rosary, so I did.  But I was just repeating what I had memorized.  I didn’t understand what was going on.  A few years back, my best friend came to visit.  I shared my feelings about prayer with her. She said I should try to see prayer as just simply talking with God and telling him about my life, and realize that praying the rosary is talking with Mary and asking her to take my requests to heaven’s throne room.  My friend suggested I sit down with an empty chair in front of me and believe that Jesus or Mary—or sometimes both of them or, maybe even the entire Trinity, are there with me.  After all, Jesus promised, ‘I'll be with you always.’”
      “And then talk,” my friend said.  “When you say those memorized prayers of the rosary, think about what they really mean.  You’ll find they are part of the conversation, too.”
     “So, that’s what I started doing, Father.  And, you know what?  I realized Jesus is always ready to listen when I want to talk and ramble on.  In my heart, He talks to me, too.  I’ve asked Him to turn each Hail Mary I pray into a rose for His mother. Now, my praying the rosary is like picking flowers for Heaven.  I also discovered that with each Hail Mary, I am asking her to be with me now and at the time of my death.  Prayer has become a comfort because it’s a visit with good friends.”
       The chaplain continued, “This morning I stopped by Terri’s room and found her family there.  She died early this morning. Her son thanked me for stopping by.  ‘Mom told us she met you yesterday.  She had a peaceful death.  Just as we expected, Mom held on to her rosary until the end.  But, she surprised all of us a ittle.  Just before she took her last breath, she raised up a little, leaned over, and put her head on that chair by her bed.’ “