O Mary, I wish I could see how
you used to behave toward father and mother,
especially toward St. Anne;
and then how you behaved toward the priests of the temple;
and then toward St. Joseph;
and toward St. Elizabeth,
and St. John the Baptist;
and afterwards toward the Apostles,
especially toward St. John.
I should see how sweet
Lord, You are the source
of my strength, peace and joy.
Send Your Spirit to renew
my trust and hope in You
and give me peace in my life.
O blessed Jesus,
give me stillness of soul in You.
Let Your mighty calmness reign in me.
Rule me, O King of Gentleness, King of Peace.
Let Your divinity shine on my intellect
by giving it divine knowledge, and on my will
by imparting to it the divine love
and on my memory with the divine possession of glory.
O God, our Creator and Redeemer,
Mercifully hear our prayers as we venerate Your servant, St. Lucy,
for the light of faith You bestowed upon her,
and to preserve this same light in our souls,
that we may be able to avoid evil,
to do good and to abhor nothing
so much as the blindness
and the darkness of evil and of sin.
O Virgin of Guadalupe,
Mother of the Americas,
grant to our homes the grace of loving
and respecting life with the same love
with which you conceived in your womb
the life of the Son of God.
Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of Fair Love,
protect our families so that
they may always be united
and bless the upbringing of our children.
Dear God, all over the world now,
the children of Holy Mother Church are singing:
"Send down dew from above, you heavens,
and let the skies pour down upon us
the rain we long for, Him, the Just One.
May He, the Savior,
spring from the closed womb of the earth!"
We know, Lord, and we have seen,
what drought does to the land.
Come, Emmanuel, God's presence among us, our King, our Judge:
save us, Lord our God!
Come, King of all nations,
source of Your Church's unity and faith:
save all mankind, Your own creation!
Come, Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, Sun of Justice:
shine on those lost in the darkness of death!
The story begins in the early morning hours of December 9, 1531, when a 57-year-old Indian peasant named Juan Diego was walking along the path of Tepeyac Hill on the outskirts of Mexico City on his way to Mass. As he walked, he heard heavenly music and suddenly a beautiful young woman appeared to him dressed like the women of his people.
We praise You, Lord,
in this daughter of Israel, who sang the songs of David,
who knew the deeds of Judith,
and held in her heart the burning words of Isaiah.
We pray as Mary did:
may your name be holy,
may the hungry be filled and the rich know hunger,
may the proud be scattered and the oppressed raised up,
may your love be ever with your people.
Lord, You are always patient with me
and do great things for me.
Teach me to be more patient in my life
and grateful for all that has been given to me.