Mary has been found.
I had assumed that Mary was simply out of vogue and not considered front-lawn-worthy anymore - replaced by lawn gnomes and stolen sprinklers. There was a certain loss in being unable to share the childhood road trip game of "find the Virgin" with my own kids.
Yet the truth revealed itself after a visit to my mom's.
Mary had simply moved to the 'burbs.
Praying in front of aging 100-year old bungalows in Chicago must have proved too much for our blessed Mother. She needed something simpler. Something smaller. Less to maintain. Mary did what thousands of Beverly moms have done through the years - she got herself a nice townhouse away from city living.
And that's where I spotted her. Coming home from my mom's condo in Orland Park, I caught a glimpse of her peeking out from behind a water meter. I did a screeching u-turn and whipped out my camera to photograph this rare relic of devout Catholicism. The kids perked up.
Why are we going this way, mommy? I thought we were going home?
I then told them we were on a mission from God. Whoever could find the most Virgin Mary statues would win a ticket to heaven (more on that recent good-behavior-inducing incentive another time).
It was like shooting fish in a barrel. They were everywhere. The ultimate Virgin Motherload. My kids would scream and point each time they spied another statue.
Just like old times.
I found most of these in the same cul-de-sac:
On a day where I wasn't sure what I would be blogging about, God provided me a source of humor, blog continuity, and faith. It can't be coincidence.
Some people think that divine inspiration is limited to just the Miltons of the world. Men with great command of language and thought. I disagree. Isn't the greater miracle in providing a little "hello" to His more incompetent children? Like simple-minded mom bloggers living on the southside of Chicago who drink Mike's Hard Lemonade and swear?
Just a thought.