WALKING WITH MY MOTHER

Culturally, the Croatian people are a Marian people. Our Lady’s shrines, monuments of her closeness to our people and our people’s love and esteem for her in return, pepper our land, from Marija Bistrica, to Medugorje, to Trsatska Gospa, to Sinjska Gospa in the Dalmatian hinterland.

For this reason, in this oppressive  environment of hard restrictions, it was always going to be a hard ask of us as a Croatian family to bypass any traditional Marian devotions for the Feast of the Assumption for whatever reason. In the spirit of my pokojni otac, who embraced Our Lady as his own mother, especially on the loss of his earthly mother as a young man, and in the spirit of his push-back against rules that restricted his God-given freedom and identity as a Catholic Croatian, our family chose to celebrate Our Lady’s Assumption this year by using the exercise ‘privileges’ afforded to us in this current climate to embark on a legally-permitted 5km pilgrimage (done the Croatian way – the long, winding way to extend the pokora value) to a Church within our LGA.

Carrying an image of Our Lady and humble bouquets of daffodils and primulas cut from our garden, we prayed the rosary and Divine Mercy as we traversed local hills, bushland and main roads to reach our destination. As we walked, we were reminded of the highs and lows of the spiritual life – the joy of walking on a gloriously warm day; the joy of being with those we love the most; but also the truth of the hardships, such as the fatigue that can come on especially when you are walking up steep hills, and the lesson that you must stand firm in faith even when you are mocked or derided.

That last one is really important for children to learn early on. That even in those times of trial they are not alone and that those moments pass. Our faith must be unshakeable. In previous years, when we were allowed to process with other Catholics, we were often buoyed by passing cars honking in support. This year, in sad contrast, we were often greeted with suspicion, with disgust and with coldness. Instead of feeling animosity towards these people, we grew in understanding of what Our Lord and Our Lady must feel every day and how heartbroken they must be, they whose hearts burn with love for us.

Kneeling before the heartbreakingly closed doors of Our Father’s house, with eyes glistening with tears at Jesus quarantined from those He loves, we prayed the sorrowful mysteries, uniting ourselves with Our Mother in our trials, keeping in mind the hope of the Resurrection which followed. It was a different pilgrimage from the one we have been used to each year, yet Our Lady felt especially close and we felt protected by her holy mantle throughout.

It was such a powerful witness for our children to see their parents standing up in faith against a climate of fear and participating in a counter-cultural activity such as this pilgrimage – to see their father, the protector of the domestic church, heading the walk and leading the prayers. It was a lesson in the importance of forging forward with faith even when faith is ‘out of season’, when times are dark and all seem to be against you. That message is one that is far more empowering, hope-filled and life-saving than any lesson the world would have them learn through TV and computer screens.