“Shhhhhhhhh! Nanna is saying her prayers!” My siblings and cousins and I had come inside the house with our boisterous game; not an unusual thing for us to do. It was her everyday habit to pray in her room after lunch for an hour or so. It was sacrosanct. It was ordinary

How do we keep our children, our grandchildren in the faith? How do we bring them back?

These are questions asked by so many in the Church. Over and over. The fear and the heartbreak of the loss of faith can be such a burden.

You cannot.

You cannot control or manipulate the gift of faith. It is a gift for a reason. It can be accepted, it can be rejected, or it can even be misplaced for a while. The only person who has the ability to receive the gift is the person it is given to.

You can and indeed you must, create a faith-filled environment for your family but ultimately the choice is individual. The only real thing someone can do for another person’s faith is to make their own life synonymous with Christ. I believe that is what they refer to as a ‘witness’.

I have sat with this piece for a little over a month now. Trying to put into words the effect my grandmother had on my own faith and that is what I realised. She was a witness to me as to what faith was. Faith is a relationship with Christ. I have always known what it looked like because for my whole life my grandmother spoke to Jesus every day and I knew it. Hers was an unwavering commitment. No visitor, not even her grandchildren, could come between her time spent with Our Lady and her Son. She told Him and His mother literally everything. Her joys and her sufferings. She prayed for every single one of us in her family, every day, and I knew it. Even if I had left the Church, I would still know it.

 A relationship with Christ looks like time. Time set apart for just you and Him. Whenever you can find it. However long you can find it for. It just has to be sacrosanct. It has to be unthinkably ordinary. My Nanna’s daily, ‘ordinary’ prayer time  was a profound witness to the faith she proudly professed.

My grandmother died last month at the age of 93, on the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel after a short stay in hospital, whilst the decade of the Assumption was being said by her bedside. It felt like a gentle nod to a woman whose strong friendship with Our Lady really began by her carrying the visiting Fatima Statue as a teen. I can tell you, God looks after, so beautifully, those who give Him the time to receive His love.

Please say a prayer for the soul of Dolores. She will definitely say one for you. I know it.

My grandmother, Dolores (front left) as a member of “The Children of Mary” carrying the travelling statue of Our Lady of Fatima. A pivotal moment in her life of faith.

~ By Monica Russell