As the city forest ended, and the crowded roads of the city began, he walked out from the dense abode of nature, back into the man made world. The soothing twilight in the forest was a contrast to the sharp city lights. The sounds of birds taking their last flight for the day were very different from the sounds of cars, and men and women chatting. The colours of the tree were not the colours of the concrete buildings.

In the lane close by, he noticed a statue. He walked towards it. There was a church, and outside it, a statue of Mary, holding her infant son in her left arm. Her head was covered with a blue scarf, she wore blue and white robes. Her face was pure, untouched, as ever.

He stood there for a while. In this busy world, this spot emanated tranquility, care, love. Truly, Mary is the mother of all who have faith. In the most unlikely of spaces, sometimes in spite of the intentions of those who are responsible for her church, she appears, blesses, and soothes with her aura.

For 2000 years, men and women have gone to Mary to seek refuge. They have enshrined her in their sacred spaces, and in their hearts. They have sung to her. They have been blessed by her presence, soothing, infinitely deep and ever renewed.


~ by tdcatss on December 8, 2017.

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