Missing Virgin. Last Known Address: Beverly Neighborhood circa 1990

My grandparents lived in a tiny two-bedroom house in Beverly many years ago.  To this day, I have no idea how they managed to jam six kids and a dog in that place.  My grandfather was a Chicago policeman who spent his Depression-era youth in a Roosevelt work camp to help support his parents and siblings.  He lived most of his life convinced that the sky was about to fall  -  a common view amongst many Irish of that generation.

My Papa:  "I may be smiling, but I'm fairly certain the Irish are going to be tossed out of the country next week."

I have some very early memories of visiting my grandparents at their house on Washtenaw.  Riding out from the burbs, my siblings and I knew we were getting close when we started spying all the Virgin Mary statues on people's front lawns.  It became a game: who could find "a Mary" the fastest?  It was like Where's Waldo? The 1977 Edition.

Even though I've lived in Beverly for almost 6 years, it just recently dawned on me that I have never seen a Virgin Mary statue since we arrived.  I suppose generations change, displays of faith alter, and saints go out of vogue (being the bad Catholic I am, I had to Google "Mary" to make sure she's actually a canonized saint.  Apparently, she's considered a "super-saint"...who knew?).

So at a block party on Saturday, I caught a glimpse across the street of a Virgin Mary statue praying in some shrubbery. I grabbed my camera to take a picture of this throw-back display. As I was clicking away, my husband walked up.

Joe:  What are you doing?

 Me:  It's a Mary statue!  I haven't seen a Mary statue on someone's lawn for years!

Joe:  Uh..Marianne?

Me:  (trying to get less glare on the night photo, annoyed) What?

Joe:  You're standing in front of a church.


And as God as my witness, lightening flashed across the Chicago night sky at that exact moment.

Forgive me, Jesus.  I'm Googling the mass schedule for Sunday.