A few years ago, I was sent a blackmail note in the guise of an e-mail message. You’ve probably received some of these yourselves: “If you do not send this message on to 75 friends within 4 seconds a horrible calamity will befall you….” Something along those lines….

The message, curiously enough, was a prayer to Little St. Theresa of the Flowers. I became terribly upset as I read it – it seemed to me to epitomize The Old Religion with its assertions that we are all but poor sinners, that the flesh is weak and impure and that we understand that we must be punished for our sins, but pray that God Our Father be merciful in his chastisement.

I felt I had no choice but to rewrite it. A strong surge of joy flowed from within me as the prayer transformed from a negation of Life to a grateful celebration of physical existence. I tried to keep to the original context and form as best I could, but to reframe it in a more all-encompassing Love and gratitude.

I didn’t keep a copy of the original. I sent the prayer back to the person from whom I had received it with a note saying that this amended version was one I felt I could send out into the world. It contained no threats, but was just a prayer to share with whosoever one wished. Then I forgot about it.

Almost a year later, I received another “Prayer to Little St.Theresa of the Flowers”. I groaned and began to scan it. “I don’t usually pass these on, blah, blah, blah…” “This prayer touched me, blah, blah, blah…” When I started reading the text of the prayer, it wasn’t until I got to “Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love”, that disbelieving tears appeared as it hit me – these were my words, returning home….

This happened as I was once again vacillating about whether I should waste my time writing or not; how could I possibly even consider adding more books to the gazillions already overflowing from the shelves of Indigo and the virtual pages of Amazon?  To dissuade myself from the craving to write and the urging of others to do so, I would just walk into a bookstore and cringe as words and colours overstimulated visually from every nook and coffee table.

Reading the words of the simple prayer I’d written, knowing that these words must have traveled through so many minds and hearts before coming back to me, I understood viscerally for the first time the strength and importance of the written word.

I have received this prayer dozens of times now, from all over the world – the last time was quite recently, from a dear sister in Costa Rica.  Strangely enough, it also arrived the day after I had seen three different statues of St. Theresa of the Flowers, which in itself had been significant for me –  I was once again doubting the amount of energy and time I spend in impassioned but unremunerated  writing….

“May today there be peace within. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others. May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content with yourself just the way you are. Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.”

Amen….and Blessèd Be!