the Rosary is the story of the New Testament. Through the beads we follow the life of Mary and Jesus. we follow Jesus Mary from the day the Archangel Gabriel came to ask her to become the Mother of Christ,to the day she was crowned Oueen of Heaven we follow jesus from the moment the holy spirit came down on Mary, through his childhood, his cruel death on the cross,the joy of Easter when he rose from the dead,to the day he ascended to heaven in glory.What a story!And it is all true.
Mary waits for your prayers.if you speak to her she always listens.She is our mother. When you pray the rosary,begin by telling Mary what you would like her to use your prayers for-and then think about the stories that are hidden in the beads.
The Rosary is such a tremendously powerful weapon against Satan,that armed with the Rosary in our hearts,and the beads in our hands,we can even stop wars.if we but knew how powerful this prayer is-we would never want to put the beads down....
When my arms wrap you round I press My heart upon the loveliness That has long faded from the world: the jewelled crowns that kings have hurled in shadowy pools, when armies fled; the love-tales wrought with silken thread
by dreaming ladies upon cloth that roses that of old time were Woven by ladies in their hair, the dew-cold lilies ladies bore through many a sacred corridor where such grey clouds of incense rose that only god's eyes did not close:
come from a more dream-heavy land. And when you sigh from kiss to kiss I hear white beauty sighing, too, for hours when all must fade like dew, But flame on flame, and deep on deep, Throne overthrone where in half sleep, Their swords upon their iron knees, Brood her high lonely mysteries
far-off most secret,and inviolate rose, enfold me in my hour of hours;Where those Who sought theein the Holy Sepulchre, Or in the wine-vat, dwell beyond the stir And tumult of defeated Dreams;and deep Among pale eyelids, heavy with the sleep Men have named beauty.thy great leaves enfold the ancient beards,the helms of ruby and gold of the crowned Magi;and the king whose eyes Saw the pierced Hands and Rood of elder rise in Druid vapour and make the torches dim; Till vain Frenzy awoke and he died,and him Who met Fand walking among flaming dew By a grey shore where the wind never blew, and lost the world and emer for a kiss; And him who drove the gods out of their liss, And till a hundred morns had flowered red Feasted, and wept the barrows of his dead, and the proud dreaming king who flung the crown And sorrow away,and calling bard and clown Dwelt among wine-stained wanderers in deep woods, And him who sold tillage, and house,and goods And sought through lands and islands numberless years. Untill he found with laughter and with tears, A woman of so shining loveliness That men threshed corn at midnight by a tress, A little stolen tress.I,too.await the hour of thy great wind of love and hate. when shall the stars be blown about the sky, Like the sparks blown out of a smithy,and die? Surely thine hour has come,thy great wind blows, Far-off most secret,and inviolate ROSE?