There stood beside the road a shrine,
In whose quaint, vaulted shadow smiled
With eyes of tenderness divine,
The Blessed Virgin and Her Child.
And I, who wandered all alone,
Along a rough and weary way,
Felt that a great desire had grown
Within my heart, to kneel and pray.
But lo! my voice had lost the power
To utter words so deep and sweet,
And so, I breathed them in a flower,
And left it, at the Virgin’s feet.
There are times when a prayer, a candle, can say what words cannot. We can leave flowers or candles at the site of disasters, or as here, murderous attacks. The Lord does not need our words, he is The Word.
From ‘Twixt Earth and Stars’ by Marguerite Radclyffe-Hall, London 1906.
The writer was a parishioner at Saint Anthony of Padua, Rye, Sussex