PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My mother every night sat down praying on the sofa of our living room while holding a cord, with fifty small balls separated by a silver ball after each ten red balls. There was also a silver cross at the end of the cord; My mother would hold a rose-scented rosary in her hands, whatever day of the year, whatever seasons of the year-like hot and sultry summer or rainy autumn or with orange paths colored by the leaves that fell down; snowy, lonely and cold winters; or even in the spring with the leaves flourishing on the ground and the bees flying in the backyard. She always was praying with her eyes closed and murmur that came from her mouth and that irradiated devotion and happiness. After family celebrations, weddings, Christmases and funerals, she always sat down without thinks of the time to go to sleep, or if she had to stand up early next day. She always kept the rosary that smelt like petals recently cut off from the stem. Sometimes she used to go to the big and painteresque church with big windows, which was two blocks from our house, to pray and chant the whole morning beside her friends, but always carrying the red and rose-scented rosary. Once she told me that the rosary came from the Vatican and that my grandmother gave it to her. I never knew for what things or miracles she prayed, but the rosary was always accompanying my mother in her soul and in her devotions. One cold day in December, while the snow fell down on the pavement and accumulated to form a white thin layer in the street while kids came outside from their warm houses to play and build snowmen. My mother told me that she had something to give me before I would move from my house to another place. She extended her arm with the hand closed, and she gave me her rosary, the one that always stayed with her during the nights of prayer. But the weird thing for me, now that I am an adult, is that the rose-scented rosary, red with a silver cross, symbolizes to me, the hope, the faith, and the togetherness that my mother has given to her family, praying to the Angels to keep her family safe and protected. My mother loved the time when all her sons and daughters spent time with her sitting on the leather couch next to her.