Friday, January 19, 2018

He Has Been A Friend

I live in a house one-half block from our parish church that has a 24-hour perpetual adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, in which my shift is from 11:00pm to midnight on Wednesdays. I have shifts on other days, usually after midnight, and my neighbors are used to seeing me walk up to the church in those lonely hours. This has been going on since we started Eucharistic adoration eight years ago, so I feel safe that neighbors seem to be looking out for me.
That Wednesday night was no different. It felt safe walking up the street, but when I got into what I thought was an empty Church's parking lot, two strange young men suddenly came at me, I thought they were going to beat me up. They did not, but one of them violently snatched my handbag and both ran away, leaving me quite terrified. I ran to the adoration chapel and frantically knocked at the locked door, screaming for my friend Linda (the 10 o'clock adorer inside) to open up. I told her what happened and she called the police. (I don't know how to use a cell phone and I don't carry one.) When the police came, I described the thugs to them and they asked what my purse contained. There was no money in it, just: My Liturgy of the Hour (Volume 3) book, a very nice rosary in an embroidered silk purse, my reading glasses, my house key, a handkerchief, and a folding umbrella. Nothing that cannot be replaced, but I was scared that if the thugs discovered there was no money in it, they could come back and beat me up. Also, my book has my name and address on its inside cover. I was afraid that with my address and the key, they could come and break into my house. The police told me to give them pictures of things similar to what I lost. I could not pray that night, just knelt there in front of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. Linda stayed with me for the whole hour and later drove me home. When I arrived home, I scoured the internet for similar pictures of my handbag, my breviary, and rosary. It was only then that I remembered to pray to St. Anthony. The next day just as I was leaving my house on my way to the police to give them the pictures, two men knocked on my door and handed me my breviary book. They found it in a garbage can a block from the church. Oh, St. Anthony, who's ever so helpful in finding lost and stolen things! Thank you, thank you!
My handbag, umbrella, and rosary haven't come back, but that's all right. I have other rosaries, bags, and umbrellas. Maybe St. Anthony will find some uses for them, if only for the young thugs to learn a lesson. I just want to thank St. Anthony with all my heart. He has been a friend since childhood and he has never forgotten me, even if I sometimes forgot him and remembered him only when I lost something. Thanks, Ygnacia. God bless you.

And thank you M.P. for your story of trust in Saint Anthony's help. Have a St. Anthony story of your own to share? Email it to us and we will post it on our blog~

Thursday, January 4, 2018

He Heard My Plea

There was a time when my mother needed to have a check-up done in a hospital, so we both rode a taxi going there. I was charging my phone with a powerbank and carelessly left them on the taxi seat. As I climbed out of the taxi, I failed to notice that I was already leaving my phone and powerbank behind. I only realized it when we were at the hospital entrance already. By the time I rushed back to the drop-off point, the taxi was gone. I stood outside for a good 10 minutes, constantly dialing my phone with my mother's own phone. I was hoping that the taxi driver would notice the left-behind items and answer the call. No such luck. While my mother was having her check-up, I waited outside in the reception room, still not giving up on the call. I continued to hope that the driver would answer it and be kind enough to return my items. I prayed fervently in my head as the phone kept ringing but still, no one picked up.
When my mother was finally done with her checkup, she offered to try and call my phone for me. By then, quite some time had already passed, but she still tried anyway. The first few times bore no fruit. But on the 4th try, right as she had her phone to her ear, I prayed again, this time to St. Anthony. I prayed his novena and just when I was finished, someone had finally answered the phone call. It was the taxi driver and he was telling us where we could meet so that he could return my phone back to me. The timing of his answer and the timing of my prayer could not have been a coincidence. I was constantly praying in a daze while my phone was gone, but it wasn't until I prayed and directed my focus to St. Anthony that someone finally answered the call. Never have I been so grateful in my life. St. Anthony is truly a miracle-worker. He heard my plea and delivered my lost phone to me when I was so worried that the taxi driver would just keep the phone for himself (it is quite common in my area.) Instead, he filled the taxi driver's heart with so much kindness, the driver was willing to go out of his way to hand my phone and powerbank to me. Thank you so much, St. Anthony. You are truly a wonderful Saint.

Thank you so much R.C. for this wonderful story of St. Anthony's assistance in your life. Have a story of your own to share? Email it to us and we will post it on the blog to inspire others to trust in St. Anthony's help~

Thursday, December 21, 2017

Still Looking Over Me

On the day my beloved father passed away in June of 2017 , I lost my most important ring of keys..keys to the house, the cars, my dad's hardware store, the post office box. I searched high and low, and was in tears. I had to attend my dad's funeral with only his extra car key and the extra key to the house. I began the novena to St. Anthony to help me find the keys. Some were irreplaceable. I had retraced all my steps, looked in boxes and shopping bags, practically tore the cars apart. Despite my absolute faith in the novena, I was still relying on myself.
Today, December, I happened to look down at the kitchen table. There, in the same chair in which my late father always sat, were the keys, peeking out from under the seat cushion. I didn't put them there, or drop them there. St. Anthony returned the keys to me, and I believe my loving, faithful father had a hand in it. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit. Thank you, St. Anthony. And thank you, Daddy, for still looking over me. Praise be to God Almighty. The moral of this experience is praise Him in the small things, and He will bless us in the small and large things.

Thank you R.E.W. for your story of St. Anthony's help in your life. Have a story of your own to share? Email it to us and we will post it on our blog~