Category: Rosary Stories

A Rosary Story by Marty Dehen

I come from very traditional Catholic roots in Anoka, MN. Growing up in the 60’s, right after Vatican II made a bunch of changes in how things were to be done by Catholics. If anything, it made life more interesting. Being half Irish and half German, we were on the seam of some pretty weird interpretations of what was expected of us as Catholics. Many of the viewpoints my older relatives had about our Faith are noteworthy enough to share with you. In particular, the way they weighed out what “counted” more in how we practice our Faith. For instance:

Attending Sunday Mass counted more than 5pm Saturday afternoon Mass. Taking the Host on your tongue counted more than having it placed in your hand. Receiving the Host from a priest counted more than from a lay distributor. Sitting in the pews with bare wood kneelers counted more than the ones with pads on. Continuing to eat fish on Fridays, year round, counted more than not. Prayers said while kneeling counted more than those prayed while standing or sitting.

The Rosary counted more than any other prayer.

There are many more, but I thought I would finish on the Rosary comment, only because it might be true. It’s a strange phenomenon, in that everyone gets something different out of praying the Rosary. For some it’s rote prayer and for others it’s contemplative. It can be used for sorrow, thanksgiving, healing, change, worldly issues, heavenly issues, etc., etc., etc. Everyone who prays it gets different images when they contemplate the same Mysteries, which is a mystery in itself. I always was confused at how some mysteries were seemingly bigger events then others. The Ascension and Assumption seemed bigger than when Mary visited Elizabeth or when the child Jesus was lost in the temple for 3 days.

One day I prayed all 5 decades contemplating only the 5^th Joyful Mystery, “The finding of Jesus in the temple”. There were a couple my of old aunts, God rest their souls, who would have assured me it wouldn’t count as much. I started by asking anyone in Heaven, who was listening, to intercede and give me the thoughts I would need to understand the Mystery better. For a full week I continued that regimen and what I received was really quite incredible. Tidbits of historic stories, imaginary visuals and past Religious Ed. classes came to mind, forming a story I could relate to. Today, it would go something like this:

The Holy Family lived in Nazareth, a town so insignificant that it didn’t have any roads leading to it. The traveling merchants would set up shop along the main trade route and people from Nazareth would have to walk the path several miles out to exchange goods and services. Twelve year old Jesus, Mary and Joseph needed to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, the largest city in the region. It was a 3 day journey. Jerusalem was a busy, bustling city with thousands of vender kiosks lining many of its streets trading everything from slaves to pigeons. Every kind of mammal that could transport products and people filled the limited spaces and avenues raising a staggering haze of dust and stench. The Temple Jerusalem was the center of the universe for most Jews and the largest structure in town. It was the highest possible learning institution of their known world, beyond what the Vatican is to Catholics today. Combining Biblical law and math and science, it was Oxford, M.I.T. and the Vatican all in one for people of Jewish faith.

Now, using today’s measures, picture a seventh grader – twelve year old Jesus, not yet a man by Jewish standards, left alone for a few hours in the middle of the biggest temple in the known world, in middle of the biggest town in the known world, during a census, one of the most busy times for all of Israel’s populace to all be counted by their government. Try to comprehend what anguish His parents struggle with when they discover He’s missing. Then multiply that by three days of frantic searching, ending with the submission that He’s gone and that the only thing left to do is to go back to the temple and pray for His safe return.

Three days earlier, while waiting for his dad to finish his prayers, Jesus over hears a high level discussion between two of the top scholars of the era and interjects a comment that stops both of them in their tracks. They immediately escort Him to an area where the “who’s who” of Jewish scripture interpretations have argued for centuries. In the room, Rabbi’s, professors, scribes, lawyers and experts keep alive ancient disagreements on scriptural Jewish mysteries and theories, handed down for many generations, almost to the point of physical altercation. Then a frail boy is led into their midst and He answers the toughest theology questions ever asked in a clear and precise manor where all the smartest people of the era are enlightened and awestruck. Working into a frenzy with, “well if that is the answer to this, what about that,” reciprocating one question which leads to another, non stop for three days. Each answer clears up century old disagreements (mysteries) among themselves and their ancestors. How can this one child be so knowledgeable?

For a whole week, I contemplated this over and over again while praying the Rosary and came away with a better understanding of the one, not so spectacular mystery that seemed out of place with the others. I ended up with a visual of a child teaching teachers and professors at, say for instance M.I.T., Oxford or even the Cardinals at the Vatican, and came away with a resounding, “ Wouldn’t that be incredible?” Yes, auntie, I believe it counted. To take it a step further, I’d recommend to anyone, confused about any of the Catholic teachings and not just the Mysteries of the Rosary, to submit to this method of clearing the cob webs of confusion and I’m pretty sure it will count.

The Knights of Columbus April 2008 Rosary Story – Written by Marty Dehen

Long after Grandma and Grandpa moved off the family farm, my dad and his siblings grew weary of high-tailing it to St. Michael, MN every time there was an emergency medical issue.  My Aunts and Uncles convinced them to move into an apartment in our town, Anoka, MN, a half a block from the church.  Theirs was the lower unit, closest to the old St. Stephen’s Catholic Church, built in 1888, the same year Grandpa was born.  Grandma found comfort in looking out the window at the steeple.  Six of the ten sibling families lived in Anoka, so we grand kids could ride our bikes over to Grandma’s place when ever we felt like it.  The sub-ground floor picture window allowed us to look in and see if Grandma was in “the chair” or in the kitchen and gave a clear view of the cookies, usually found on the counter.  If Grandma was in “the chair”, we patiently sat on the front stoop until she got up.  We would watch for movement in her thumbing the beads, just to make sure she wasn’t sleeping.

“The chair” was a funny little parlor chair with no arm rests and an arched, round, spring loaded seat pad that required weight greater than a fourth grader to depress to a comfortable position.  Most of us just slid off of it when we tried to make it work.  It was perfect for a Grandma.  Next to it was a funny little round table with a small drawer, covered with a lace doily.  A swinging elf knick-knack and a lamp adorned the surface. Grandma kept Rosaries and school photos of all 47 of her grand kids in the drawer.  There wasn’t much room for anything else.

When Grandma was in “the chair”, she was deep in a Rosary trance and we grand kids knew we should wait to knock on her door until she was finished.  One day I asked her why she closed her eyes and prayed the Rosary every day, all by herself.  I don’t ever recall seeing a bigger smile than the one she flashed at that very moment.  She explained that we never pray the Rosary all by our selves.  The Blessed Virgin always joins us and so do other Saints and Angels, when we invite them.  Grandma shared a secret about her special church.  When she closed her eyes, she imagined being in a big Cathedral where all her invited guests in Heaven came to pray with her and the Blessed Virgin.  The altar was the most ornate of its kind, with the Holy Trinity and all the Apostles, alive and intertwined in its magnificence.  The first few pews were filled with all the Angels and Saints that she asked to attend and the next few rows were filled with all her old friends and neighbors that had passed away.  Cradled in her arms and seated on her lap was the infant that was still-born and buried on the farm 70 years earlier in her life.  The next few rows were filled with Popes, Cardinals and various religious clergy who dedicated their lives to the Church.  The balance of the congregation was her general invite to all souls in Heaven who were looking for something to do at that moment in time.  It was a really big Cathedral, packed to the rafters.

Give it a try.  You never pray it alone.

A message delivered to the HNOJ Passion Play cast and crew by the KC’s

On this 800 year anniversary of the Rosary, the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary continues to inspire writers and directors to produce numerous versions of the Passion of Christ. When you first received your part from Mark Best, you immediately began to imagine how you should act it out. Every year someone new plays Jesus and every year the parish sees a slightly different Jesus. The events are all the same, but each actor’s use of imagination comes out in their role. Peter, the leper, Pontius Pilot all adjust to the imaginations of the actors too. That’s why the parish never tires of watching it.

The Rosaries we donate to the 9^th graders every year also require the use of imagination. Each person who prays it will meditate on different images for the identical events. We call them “Mysteries”. It’s not all that different from day dreaming in school. You all have a lot to do with the thoughts you allow in when you pray the Rosary. Just like in class, you invite visuals in that correspond with the topic you’re thinking about. Most of the Mysteries have graphic, colorful images and spiritual visuals that are easy to recall and reflect on. Learning this powerful prayer tool will prove to be invaluable to all of you later in life.

Sometimes your imagination can work against you. For example; WORRY is the unproductive use of imagination, yet we all let it get to us occasionally. Once again, we control the images we let in to our brains. The Rosary can calm you when your brain is racing over a test subject you don’t understand. It can soothe anger when things happen that you don’t like. It can comfort you when your heart is breaking. The intercession of your favorite angel, saint or even the Blessed Virgin will clear the way for the thoughts that come to you during your rosary.

Most adults get so caught up in life’s challenges; raising a family, climbing the corporate ladder, home and car repairs, paying loans or just driving every one to all their scheduled school, church and sports events, that they allow themselves to get too busy to pray the Rosary. It isn’t until something traumatic occurs when their brain shouts, “time out”. Maybe it’s a death of a friend or relative, an unexpected job change, a scary medical diagnosis, a divorce, any one of which can shut down all common sense systems. Very few adults turn to the Rosary during times of trouble. If they did, it almost always has a calming effect. The decades of Hail Mary’s drown out the sounds and images of whatever drama is at hand, even if it’s only for 20 minutes of sanity.

You HNOJ 9^th graders all have an unfair advantage over most adults. Having a part in the Passion Play will stay with you your entire lives. The Sorrowful Mysteries will come alive for you with memories of your experience, recollection and involvement in the play. You are all part of a living miracle. Someone in the audience is going to feel a life changing spiritual conversion when they witness your group. It happens every year. You are all truly blessed to have crossed paths with Mark Best. By inviting you to act out a part, he gave you a priceless gift that will keep on giving.

Haven’t all of us at HNOJ been blessed for having crossed paths with Mark? The KC’s are sure glad he’s a member of our council. Thanks Mark

Written by Karen Quinby

The March 2008 HNOJ KC Rosary Story

As a child I remember learning the rosary, but didn’t really embrace it as a form of prayer. In adulthood, I had several friends that frequently recited a rosary, and I decided to give it a try. Around that time, a friend was diagnosed with cancer. A living rosary was being said for her, and she requested that I attend. I had never done this before, and as I wasn’t as familiar with the recitation, I was a little nervous. However, I was excited to go for her.

If you have never been to a living rosary, it is beautiful. A group is gathered, and for each Hail Mary that is recited, someone brings up a rose. As there is usually a large group of people, it is very powerful to hear the prayers recited. At the end, there are large bouquets of roses. My friend said that she could feel God’s presence surrounding her the entire time.

A short time later, my daughter’s best friend who was going into 7^th grade found out she had a large tumor in her neck that was attached to her spine. She had surgery to remove it and they were assured that it was benign. Then the bad news started to come. Each time I called the family to ask how things were going, the news seemed more grim. The tumor went from being benign to malignant and very rare. They had to rebuild her spine and insert a rod. That didn’t work so well, so they had to take everything out in a series of three surgeries and rebuild it again, then to Boston for ten weeks of radiation. I couldn’t imagine the stress and worry the family was going through, and was at a loss for something tangible that I could do to help.

Then the call came. I was asked if I would lead a living rosary for Katie so we could all pray and support their family. I was nervous. I had only begun to embrace this prayer, and now I was being asked to lead a group. God lead my heart to say yes, and I trusted in him. 

I prepared ahead of time. I chose what mysteries to recite, and dedicated each mystery to someone who provides support for Katie; her family, her friends, her teachers, her faith. My daughter Becky and I went out and purchased a rosary that Katie could keep throughout her ordeal. The church filled up. Many of her friends and classmates were there supporting her. 

The entire HNOJ elementary school was present as Katie was a graduate, and her younger sisters were students. The principal and I spoke, and we decided we would dismiss the younger grades after the first decade. We were concerned that they would get antsy, and we felt that one decade would be enough. As I began the rosary, the entire church was silent. I instructed everyone as to how to recite the prayers, and they all dutifully followed. Their behavior was impeccable. I will never forget after dismissing the students as we had planned, wishing that I hadn’t. I believe that God was touching their hearts so profoundly that none of them would have stirred but for reciting their prayers. I cannot begin to tell you how powerful the presence of the Holy Spirit was on that day and how honored I was to be there.

When we were done, I walked to Katie, gave her a hug, and gave her the rosary. I told her to keep it close to her heart, as it had the power of everyone’s prayers with it. Later, I heard that she would give it to her Mom before her surgeries and ask her to say her prayers with that rosary. 

Katie is now 21 years old. She has a rod in her neck that limits her movement, and a few scars, but she is a lovely woman. She enjoys vocal music and has pursued that passion in college. I have listened to her sing (you may have too as she cantors at mass sometimes) and she has the voice of an angel.

The rosary continues to be a powerful prayer for me. I recite it often, both in times of need and thanksgiving. My prayers always seem to be answered. They are not always answered right away, but the answer almost always seems to be clear to me after some time.   I am so grateful that God, and my friend, led me to this prayer.

Written by Brenda Coleman

The January 2008 HNOJ KC Rosary Story 

Eighteen years ago this January, I experienced my first pilgrimage trip, going to Medjugorje, Yugoslavia, where supernatural phenomena involving visions of Mary had been capturing the attention of the world’s Catholics. I had no extraordinary devotion to Mary or the rosary, but had been feeling an increased desire to deepen my spiritual life. Choosing this particular trip had more to do with the timing (I had just become pregnant with our first child and left my career to “stay-at-home”) and having a few months to travel before I became busy with a new baby.

On the plane to Yugoslavia, I read a book describing what was happening in Medjugorje – the visions and messages of the Blessed Mother being received by six children – and the miracles experienced by some of the pilgrims who travelled there. As an engineer trained in facts and reality, I was somewhat skeptical about the phenomena of miracles. But I went, expecting a nice prayerful and uneventful trip – completely predictable and within my comfort zone.

The first day we arrived, we walked to Apparition Hill – the site of the first vision years before – to spend some time in prayer. As we prepared to pray a rosary, I pulled out my white First Communion rosary from 1964 and was startled to find that the silver metal chain had turned gold-colored – all except the crucifix, which remained silver. This, of course, was one of the “miracles” commonly occurring in Medjugorje. I was very conflicted about it – why did this happen to me? I had not really wanted to become the target of something like that – rather, I had hoped, at most, to be an observer of someone else’s experience. 

Initially, I didn’t share this with many people on the trip. But over the last 18 years, my perspective on it has matured. To this day, the rosary remains gold and the crucifix remains silver – living proof of the conversion from old to new (both of the rosary and of me). The message for me has become … life does not always happen as we want and we are given God experiences we must wrestle with. The part of me that likes control, order and predictability has been presented with a God who desires to stretch me, to show me that I need to change, however painful or uncomfortable, if I am to grow in my faith. My rosary is a physical sign of God’s desire for my conversion. Needless to say, that rosary has special significance to me even today . . . and I still pray with it, especially when I need to feel that God is still there in the painful stretching.

We left off, in November, with the story about 1952 cancer victim, Alfred Ebner, the 96 yr. old deer hunter and daily Rosary user, who died on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, Dec. 4, 1994. The article further mentioned the presentation of the official deer hunters Rosary to the Ebner family at Alfred’s wake. [go to www.hnoj.org or hnojkc.org to find and read last months Rosary story]

Sometimes, the miracles of the Rosary are not real obvious Saul/St. Paul-like lightening flashes that knock you out of your saddle with a life changing event or 180 degree turn-around. For me, it snuck up and slowly grew into something big. In late 1994, I was swimming against the current, pretty hard. As part owner of a small, local brokerage house, the “Black Monday” market crash of 1987 had wiped me out and I had not yet fully recovered. Most of my prayer time was spent begging, whining and deal cutting with God, in a conversational style of delivery. I was 5 years into a Chapter 11 payment plan and filled with self pity and fear. Hearing about Alfred’s Ebner’s cancer/rosary ordeal, in 1952, was the distraction I needed and got my attention.

As I drove back to Plymouth, from the wake, I was mulling over the numbers of how many Rosaries Alfred prayed between ’52 and ’94, ball-parking it over 16,000 and remember thinking how sad it was that a nice long prayer chain of Rosaries was now broken. Growing up half German and half Irish, the Rosary was always a big part of both sides of the Family Tree. When we were kids, the Rosary was occasionally used as a form of punishment for bad deeds, causing most from my generation to shy away from it. Reflecting back on how peaceful my grandparents were whenever they prayed the Rosary and the tremendous importance they placed on it, I thought I should stumble through one, just for old Albert. For the first time since I bought the truck, I turned off the radio and prayed the Rosary. It wasn’t by the book as I was unsure of the order of things and was forced to use fingers on the steering wheel without the beads, but I finished as I pulled into the driveway. It went well enough that I thought I should try to keep Alfred’s daily Rosary going for a while. You know, for my respect for Alfred, hint, hint, wink, wink.

The next morning, I traipsed into the kitchen and wolfed down breakfast and headed for the garage to begin the drive to work. As I started the truck, I remembered that Mom had given us all a Rosary book mark, one Christmas long ago, with instructions and I knew what box it was stored in. The only available time slot in my busy schedule was the drive to work, but how could I survive without listening to the KQ Morning Crew. The radio was still off from the night before so I stumbled through another one of Alfred’s Rosaries. Within a few days, I was calling it my Rosary, instead of Alfred’s and for 20 minutes every day, I began to feel a different kind of peace. While everyone else was swerving in and out of lanes to pick up an extra minute, swearing and gesturing or waiting at those God forsaken metered ramps, I was contemplating mysteries. Over time, the Rosary became and remains the most important part of my day.

Now that’s not as exiting as a cure for cancer, but it was a big time Providential intervention for an out of control, indebted yuppie like me to cross paths with an old Rosary praying deer hunter, minding his own business, grinding out a daily Rosary from a deal he cut with heaven years earlier, unaware that four generations of his family and my family would be dramatically effected by it long after he’s gone. The Rosary gave me more blessings than I can list here today with my faith, my marriage, my kids, my job. It helped me realize the true blessings in life are not financial and that many miracles are small and personal. Peace in a non-peaceful environment, faith, and family are far more valuable than money. His peace can be yours if you let it in. What’s your Rosary story? If you don’t have one, why don’t you give it try for a while and see what develops.

Brenda Coleman will be sharing her Rosary story in January and Davon Yang in February. Enjoy!

Merry Christmas from the Holy Name, Good Samaritan Council of the Knights of Columbus.

I come from a long line of outdoor enthusiasts who love hunting, fishing, camping, etc. In 1994 one of our old family friends, Alfred Ebner, was featured in the Thanksgiving weekend Star-Tribune Sunday paper in an article written by Sports Writer, Dennis Anderson. He titled it “96 year old Elk River man shoots 2 bucks, Opening Morning” and included a photo of old Alfred kneeling between the two deer. As I read the article, he mentioned Alfred was praying the Rosary on his deer stand and was interrupted by the two deer, twenty minutes apart from one another.

 In the 1930’sAlfred Ebner founded Ebners Bait Store, now on highway #10 as you come into Elk River from Anoka. His great grand son still runs it. My grandfather, David Dehen and Alfred’s older brother, Eric Ebner, were best friends and ended up marrying two Endres sisters from Hampton, MN in a double wedding ceremony shortly after the turn of the century.

Being from a strong Germanic background, the way one shows affection and friendship is though playful harassment and teasing. My Dad and I took immediate action by going to the craft store and buying a bag of miniature plastic deer and a long piece of blaze orange lanyard. We created the first and only “official Ebners Bait Store, deer hunters Rosary” with a guarantee that you will see deer every time you pray it. Framed and mounted on a fancy backing and encompassing the laminated Star-Trib article, the Rosary was ready for a formal presentation to Alfred at an upcoming family Christmas gathering. Timing is everything. On December 8^th, Alfred died in his sleep, before we could present him the deer hunters Rosary.

At his funeral, Ron Ebner, a St. Albert’s of Albertville, MN classmate with my Dad and son to Alfred, told me an interesting story. He spoke of a day in 1952 when Albert was diagnosed with terminal cancer and given six months to live, by his doctor’s best guess. Being a father of nine children, fearful of their wellbeing and a devout Catholic, he turned to his Faith. He prayed to God, to Mary, to St. Joseph and petitioned any and all saints who would listen and intercede with the power necessary to let him live a long and productive life. In return, he promised to pray a daily Rosary for as long as he shall be allowed to live. In 1994, at age 96, he died on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, December 8^th.  

The wake and funeral was a huge celebration of his life, family and faith. I sheepishly told Ron Ebner about the rosary we made and he insisted I go out to the truck and bring it in. Dare’s Funeral Parlor in Elk River, found an easel and displayed the “Alfred Ebner, Official Deer Hunters Rosary” between two massive murals consisting of hundreds of hunting and fishing photo’s dating back to 1919, when the Ebners first got a camera. The Rosary was the highlight of the wake. Everyone commented on Alfred never being without his precious Rosary and how it saved his life.

Now there’s a real good, ole fashioned Rosary miracle. However, as Paul Harvey says, so well, “and now….the rest of the story”, which is exactly how I will start the December Rosary story in next months publication as this is a two part “bonus” Rosary story.

In November 2005 we took our son Jeff and went on a pilgrimage to Medjugorje. On this trip we experienced many wonderful opportunities to pray, especially the rosary. These rosaries would be said in many different ways and in many different places. We prayed the standard rosary, the Medjugorje rosary and the Chaplet of the Divine Mercy. We prayed in churches, on buses, while walking, around shrines, in Blessed Sacrament chapels, while climbing Cross Mountain and on Apparition Hill.

It was on this “Special Climb” that I experienced the real love of Jesus. Apparition Hill has 15 bronze shrines which make up the 15 decades of the Joyful, Sorrowful, and Glorious mysteries of the rosary. While our group was climbing this wonderful shrine on a beautiful afternoon, we prayed each mystery of the rosary while climbing and walking up and down the hill. At each shrine we would stop and pray that mystery with a different person from our group leading the mystery. At one of the stops, my son Jeff, who has Down Syndrome and was 18 at that time, led our group in saying this particular mystery. Jeff prayed the complete mystery without missing any part of the Our Father, Hail Mary, or Glory Be. We were overcome with Jesus’ love for Jeff on this particular occasion as he prayed with such reverence and sincerity that it brought tears to our eyes to be part of this wonderful experience. We believe that many of the other pilgrims that were on the walk with us this particular day were all equally moved by this out pouring of His Love.

Jesus was truly present to each and every one of us on this trip, but never as much to us as he was on that day on Apparition Hill. He showed us that he loves each of us equally and that he loves us even more when we humble ourselves and let Him lead us on the path to heaven. Thank you Jesus for showing us your love!

This is the first of nine intended monthly news articles related to different parishioners at HNOJ and their experiences with praying the Rosary. An appeal went out, last month, to inspire you to send us your personal Rosary story. Some of you responded with inspirational stories, some with miracles, both major and minor. Hopefully, one story may remind some people of another story worth sending to us for future use in the Bulletin or, better yet, remind you to begin your own daily, weekly, monthly Rosary regimen. All of this is written in honor of the 800^th year anniversary of when the Blessed Virgin appeared to St. Dominick in 1208 and requested he teach the world how to pray the Rosary. The Rosary is one of the corner stones the Knights of Columbus is built on. We will attempt to carry a Rosary related article in each Bulletin through the month of May. The K of C website, hnojkc.org will carry all the articles, if you miss one. There is still room for more, so don’t hesitate to send us something that inspires you. Send it to Marty Dehen

We’re leading off with a couple of “top 10” lists, as a result of a pole taken among the KC Council members. It’s not really a motivational story, but it may help beef up the response for future space. There will be a two-part theme story for November and December and our committee is juggling a couple of others. A surprise celebrity story is not out of the question, but more later.

The question was asked, “like Christ, where is your “Garden of Gethsemane, your wilderness or desert you go to pray when you want to be heard most?” Here are the top 10 answers:

1. the Adoration Chapel
2. the church
3. walking on paths or in Malls
4. with the family
5. under the stars
6. during the Cursillo weekends
7. in a hunting blind or stand
8. up North at our cabin
9. in the car on the way to work
10. in the cemetery

A second question was asked, “what is the number reason you pray the Rosary?

1. meditation, for my own personal peace of mind
2. for strength and unity as Catholics
3. for worthy Pro-Life causes
4. for pain, suffering personal issues too painful to talk about
5. for world peace in so many warring nations
6. in memoriam of lost loved ones
7. for family members who are temporarily away in school or armed services
8. for special needs children and families
9. for disaster victims of all kinds
10. for politicians to not loose site of who they truly represent