Fulton Sheen said, “The rosary is the book of the blind, where souls see and there enact the greatest drama of love the world has ever known; it is the book of the simple, which initiates them into mysteries and knowledge more satisfying than the education of other men; it is the book of the aged, whose eyes close upon the shadow of this world, and open on the substance of the next. The power of the rosary is beyond description.”
BY Mary Pearson
COPYRIGHT 2013 MARY PEARSON
Sofia Sherman was a dancer. She had been dancing in the ballet since she was three years old and tonight there had been a special Nutcracker performance in the basement of Cathedral. After the show there were petit fours and punch and when they were finally ready to go home they were practically the last to leave. Her whole family was already in the parking lot when she realized she had left her slippers behind. “I need to get them before the doors are locked!”
“Be quick,” her mother said.
The lights on the stairwell had already been turned off so she clicked them on before making her way back down. On the landing there was a little door she had never noticed before, which was odd. She had gone to church here her whole life. Above the door there was a faded bronze marker, which read. HA. “Ha,” she said aloud. “That’s funny.” Then she had a very faint memory that it was something more than just funny. It was significant.
She reached for the knob and turned it.
(Three days earlier)
“See you tomorrow!” Anna waved.
“Right.” Sofia hoisted her backpack over one shoulder. “Don’t forget we have practice.”