Truly, O Blessed Mother, a sword pierced your heart.

I was sitting across from my friend at breakfast when I met you. She pulled out her phone and showed me this picture, and Mother, that is when I first knew you. I would finger rosary beads, and hail your name, over and over. I would wear blue in your honor, but you never touched my heart. Your Son, He loved you so, so I loved you too. But I didn't love you.

Then I saw this picture, with your deeply wounded heart, and your eyes that looked so much like mine did, and I knew you. I knew that you knew the sorrow that was deeply rooted into my heart.

And I loved you for it.


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