De Maria Numquam Satis : Of Mary there is never enough.

She was just always there. In silver, on a sweet chain around my neck. On the prayer cards slipped between the well loved pages of my mother's books. Hanging on the walls of our home, and in concrete, by our doorstep. And she was even a night light, in my sister's room. I secretly always wanted that light for myself.

I knew she was a virgin. I knew she was the Mother of God. I knew she gave birth in a stable and named her baby Jesus. And there was something about a donkey. That was about it. And without knowing what "devotion to Mary" actually was, I knew my earthly mother had one to Mary. My mom was the mom that went on pilgrimages and retreats and came home with everything Mary; necklaces, charms, statues, prayer cards, books. And I think I loved Mary. I think I was attracted to her beauty. And so I put those charms around my neck and the statues on my shelf without asking questions. But then the teenage years were ushered in, and so Mary was escorted out....somewhere hidden in the back of my closet, and locked up in side of plastic jewelry box drawers. Her image on my walls came down, so that the Air Supply posters could go up, and her sweetness around my neck was exchanged for the new age crystals that, for the record, horrified my earthly mother. What did she know, anyway?

She knew everything, actually.


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