How privileged? We'll see next week when we continue with the third part of Kathy's story. Until then, God bless you!
I was baptized at16. I believed firmly in God, but as time passed, I
began living a life of parties and pleasures. Yet none of it made me happy - really. So when Our Lady came
into my life, I was ready for the "potter's hands."
As I had mentioned, my friend returned from Medjugorje with a rosary for
me. I looked at him as if he were nuts and asked: "What do you want me to do with this?"
He replied that I should learn to pray the Rosary.
I thanked him for the "cute" little gift, took the Rosary home and hung it on a nail on the
My friend continued with his stories from Medjugorje. People saw the sun
spin, Rosaries turned gold, etc. I wondered why people needed these things.
Soon it was Christmas. My house was full of people. For some reason I
went into the bedroom. It was dark but the light from the kitchen shone on the wall where the Rosary
hung. I went over to look at it. To my astonishment, it had turned gold. I began to feel real
excitement. Maybe, just maybe "this Lady" was trying to get my attention.
Secretly, I began to learn to pray the Rosary.
By May of 1989 I was en route with my friend to a Marian Conference at
Notre Dame, Indiana. We were to meet some people there, but we had no idea how this was to come
about as 10,000 people were expected to be at the Conference. All of a sudden, on the highway, they
were there - in the lane right next to us. This "Lady" now had my full attention.
Christmas 1989. I was on my way to Medjugorje, cold and all. The trip
there took a total of 27 hours, by bus, plane, plane, plane and bus, which included a four hour
layover in the Belgrade airport. I had a terrible fear of flying, but when I got on the first airplane, suddenly
I had no fear. It was all gone.
When we got off the final plane in Dobrovnik, the sun was setting. I
looked at it and sure enough, I saw it spinning and pulsating just like I had heard it would.
There was a general peace all around, if you allowed it, and as it was Christmas, the villagers were
One of the things that impressed me the most, was the generosity of the
people. At the home where we were staying, the people were just ordinary folk with simple
possessions. But they treated us with great generosity with what they had.
In Tihaljina, I lingered beside a very poignant statue of the scourged
Jesus. A man, priest, dressed in a brown robe, like a monk, came up behind me. He touched my shoulder and
when I turned to look at him, he wished me a very happy Christmas. His smile was bright and
beautiful, his face radiant with love and friendship. I came to realize later that the man was Father Jozo. Oh, how privileged I was!