Excerpt: Champions of the Rosary
Chapter 2: Sister Adele’s Story
“Children, you’ve heard my story so many times, and now you want to hear it again?” she asked.
“Yes, Sister, all of it, please!”
Sister smiled at each youngster sitting before her. Her eyes rested on Philip. As usual, he was sitting on the floor in the front row so that he would have enough room to manage on his own with his crutch. “It’s a story of miracles,” she said, “and it happened only twelve years ago. Some of you were very little children, and some of you were not even born yet.”
Philip leaned forward. He knew the story so well. Each time she told it, he found himself standing in the forest on the old Indian trail, right next to Sister, but in his mind’s eye, he stood on his own. No crutch in sight. The vision always made him wonder, for in it he was wearing priestly garments and holding a magnificent bronze crozier.
“My family and I had been in this country for only four years,” Sister began. “Brand new immigrants from Belgium, just like all of your families. Even in those early days, we were thankful and happy to have found a home here.” Sister waited. A waft of smoke crept in through the convent’s open door. “A crisp and clean day in October,” she went on, “with conditions very different from what we have had lately. Children, it happened right here.
The Blessed Mother came to talk with me, to tell me of God’s love and mercy, and the importance of living the true faith, and of teaching it. She gave me a special purpose. It was as important for my generation as it is for your own, dear children, and for those who will follow after you.”
“In the early part of October, 1859, I was graced to see our Blessed Mother for the first time, but I didn’t know that it was her. I was going about my regular chores just like you children do today, and on that day I was heading to the grist mill, which was about a four-mile walk for me. I walked through the cool, shady forest, following the old Indian trail, carrying a sack of wheat. I often walked this trail, and it always led me safely through. The chapel is built on the exact same trail.” At this, Sister Adele pointed toward the chapel, saying, “Yes, the exact same spot, precisely where the maple and the hemlock tree stood… Even so, I was not prepared for what would happen next.”
