Earlier today I drove some Missionaries of Charity nuns to the airport.
In the half-hour I was in the car on my way to pick them up I wondered where our conversation would take us. These nuns are talkers and I’ve always enjoyed our chats before.
Well, I must have picked them up in the middle of a Saturday devotion.
I made my first turn toward the highway and Sister Passenger whipped out her beads. In fairly decent but somewhat broken English she said:
“We pray rosary now.”
Five decades, a chaplet of Divine Mercy, and nine Memorare’s later I had safely returned the remaining nuns to the convent.
Honestly I’m glad the happy talk took us to prayer. Truly just being in their presence I feel holy. Tack on a whole lotta prayers and, well, I stepped out of my car one foot closer to heaven.