My Beloved Mother

My Beloved Mother of the Lower Ninth Ward. IÕm walking down Tupelo Street up to my zipper in bayou water. Emptying my pockets of wallet and note pad, I hear a splash. Checking my pocket, I realize that IÕve just dropped a rosary in a little metal box that IÕve carried since Confirmation, (IÕm talking 1971) I despair for a second, mark the place with the GPS unit, figuring IÕll come back next week after itÕs dry and locate it. (not a good plan) I realize that the water is about as deep as my arm. If IÕm willing to get my hair wet. (Still, not a great plan) Holding my wallet, notebook and equipment over my head, I reach down and locate it immediately. I kiss it and bless it, place it back in my pocket. I did drop my notebook though. I quickly thanked God. Looking up, right beside me was Our Lady, also up to her waist. I thanked her also.