You may be aware of the importance of roses in the apparitions of Our Lady of Guadalupe. But the miracles associated with roses did not end in 1531.
A supporter of Priests for Life and advocate for the children in the womb, Lorraine, shares this powerful family story of faith and roses:
My Grandma “Dolly” had a direct pipeline to God. When I was 9 years of age, Mom sent me to spend Easter Break with Grandma, in Bayshore, Long Island. It was still winter and the weather was very cold.
One morning, at breakfast, Grandma Dolly said “Lord, if it be your will, let someone give me a rose today.” A rose? In the winter? I thought Grandma Dolly was “losing it.”
We went about our day, and while we were having dinner, there was a knock at the back door. It was Grandma’s neighbor Olga, whose sister Ann was married to Mom’s brother Leo.
“Dolly! Dolly!” Olga said. “Look what was on my rose bush when I got home from the store! A perfect rose, and I want you to have it!” I looked at the picture of Jesus Grandma had on her refrigerator, and said “Sorry, Jesus, Grandma’s not crazy. She must be some sort of Angel or Saint, because there’s no such thing as roses in the winter!”
My Mom and I talked about what “sign” she would send once she “went to be with Poppy,” as she said she wanted to do, once Dad passed away. A rose, of course. That would be the sign.
This past November 4th, after Mom had been gone more than a year, I went out to get the mail, on the third of a set of unseasonably chilly days here in North Carolina; I passed the little “Charlie Brown” rose bush I planted next to my Palm Tree.
My heart was so heavy and I literally felt sick with grief, so I walked right past it, on the way to the mailbox. On the way back, I saw it.
The smallest, most perfect little ROSE I’ve ever seen! I immediately clipped it, brought it in, and put it at the base of the Blessed Mother statue, next to a picture of President Trump.
Mom LOVED the President and knew how much I love him too. She sent me that beautiful rose to show me that it was going to be fine, that the President was going to be fine. It was way too cold for roses. None of my neighbors had them, and I haven’t seen one since. Mom sent me a small miracle, to make sure I kept the faith.
Both Mom, and my Aunt Rita, her sister, named for the Patron Saint of impossible causes, sent me a small miracle, to make sure I kept the faith.
Author Patti Armstrong has a beautiful piece on the apparitions of Our Lady of Guadalupe in the National Catholic Register.
“While many people know the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe’s appearance in Mexico to Juan Diego on Dec. 12, 1531, not everyone knows the significance that roses played in the miraculous event.” [Full article here.]