Packet of Wildflower Seeds

When I was younger, I was jealous that my sister had a "fancy" rosary. It had belonged to my mother, and my mom gave it to my sister for her first holy communion. It was white and had its own special pouch. I thought it was beautiful. Of course, once my mom gave that rosary to my sister, she didn't have another to give me for my first holy communion. Instead, I collected the plastic rosaries distributed annually in religion class; I tried to select or trade for my favorite colors, but they still didn't seem as nice as the one my sister had. Fast-forward several years later, when my aunt and uncle returned from a trip to Europe. They brought my grandma a blue rosary from Italy; I believe it was blessed by the Pope. Around that time, I was planning a wedding, and I wanted a rosary to wrap around my bouquet. My plastic rosaries weren't exactly what I had in mind, and I don't know if my sister could locate her white rosary. Therefore, I asked my grandma if she

Aside from preschool, I attended Catholic schools for all of my education - kindergarten through college. My father was raised Protestant but converted to Catholicism before marrying my mother, and his family rarely discussed specifics of religion at family gatherings. My hometown is heavily Catholic, though I don't know the exact figures. Add those all up, and I was exposed to very little diversity in matters of faith during my younger years. In high school, I knew a few individuals who were not Catholic (including a friend who seemed exasperated by the cycle of kneeling and standing during mass), but most people who said they weren't Catholic at that age had simply "lost" their faith. Even in college, students who discussed their decidedly less-than-Christian activities over the weekend also discussed which Ash Wednesday service their friends wanted to attend. Then, on Ash Wednesday, people left their ashes on their foreheads all day and no one batted an eye. Wh