These are my hands. The hands of a rosary maker. In the beginning, I felt Mary place her hands over mine and ever so gently show me "this way, this is how it is done".
Rosary making came very easy to me. Others said how wonderful they thought my "bows" were, and marveled that they were so "perfect". I told them always, "it is not me, it is Mary." Yes, we are on a first name basis, she whispers my name all the time. I recite a litany of "Hail Marys" whenever I am in need. We are very close, we two.
Mary nudged me to have my rosary pliers blessed, which I did, way back in 2000? Father Fryar (who later became Monsignor Thomas Fryar) looked at me sideways, shrugged, and blessed my tools. Tools which were held in my hands. These hands. Blessed by Father, blessed by Mother, and blessed by God himself, I'm sure. My tools have never needed sharpening, nor replaced. A fellow rosary maker told me he replaced his pliers every couple of years.
These hands have made thousands of rosaries over the years, rosaries that have gone far and wide to those who will pray to Mary for her intervention in their lives and sorrows, and in thanksgiving for their joys and happiness.
When I look at these hands with these pliers, I see Mary. Can you see her too?
Peace be with you!
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This image is borrowed from Rebecca of recuerda mi corazon.
