Towards a Richer Rosary Life

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From an outsider’s perspective, my prayer life might seem rich and abundant. I make the sign of the cross before meals or travel, and whenever I pass a church, an ambulance, a funeral, or a graveyard. But this is also where I feel like a fraud. Though I pray consistently in these small ways, I often avoid longer prayers , like the rosary , because I struggle to concentrate. When I try, my words start to feel like empty repetition rather than meditation. My lips move in prayer, but my mind drifts to mundane things: what I’ll eat next, or what tasks remain unchecked on my to-do list.

I don’t understand why I’m like this, especially when, time and again, Mother Mary has proven herself to me as Our Lady of Perpetual Help. She has always been someone I can run to in need, someone who unfailingly leads me to Jesus. I may not be faithful in praying the rosary, but I often visit the shrine of Our Lady of Peñafrancia to pray. The number of times she has comforted me, or interceded for me in ways only God could grant, is too many to count — and yet, I am the one who fails her daily.

I remember when a friend encouraged me to start praying the full rosary everyday. The first few nights were difficult. I experienced sleep paralysis every night, and during one episode, I saw faceless demons holding a monstrance with a host that I knew was not our Lord, Jesus Christ. Somehow, I understood that they would not have come if I weren’t turning toward Mother Mary, the terror of demons.

And in the midst of all of that, something extraordinary happened: I heard her voice for the first time after Sunday Mass. It was sweet and melodic — not commanding, but gentle, kind, and encouraging. She told me to buy candles from a specific vendor, whom I would later know as Ate Loida (“ate” is a term we call older women in the Philippines). I don’t even remember how I found her; it feels almost like a fever dream. But since meeting her, many small yet meaningful things have unfolded.

Just yesterday, I tried to buy candles from her, but she willingly gave the sale to another vendor. I also often go to church alone, and while I know I go there to worship God, it can feel isolating at times. Ate Loida has this habit of praying with devotees of Ina, Our Lady of Peñafrancia, when they buy candles from her. One day, as I was praying, she came and stood beside me. When I finished and was about to leave, she smiled at me. Later that day, she told me she recognized and remembered me. It was such a simple moment, but it made me feel less alone.

One of my most memorable experiences with her happened after I attended Sunday Mass with my 10-year-old brother. We bought candles from her, but it was so windy that they kept going out, no matter how many times we tried to relight them. Then my brother said a simple prayer: “In the name of Jesus, may these candles stay eternally aflame.” Suddenly, the flame of the candle he was holding grew stronger — even with the strong winds. And all our candles stayed lit, even as we were about to leave. The small miracle of the candles was beautiful, but even more beautiful was witnessing my brother’s faith grow. And it all began with a simple woman, a candle vendor, whom Our Lady led me to.

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On the bus ride home from my recent trip, I noticed several cars with rosary stickers. I said a quick prayer: “Mother Mary, if you are calling me to pray the rosary more consistently, please let me know.” (Silly of me, of course she calls all of us to it.) In her gracious response, I saw not just another rosary sticker, but even prayers to Our Lady of Perpetual Help displayed on street signs. In that moment, I knew she had answered me. She was calling me to cling to her more deeply, especially in times when I need help.