I clutched my rosary beads in my hand, glad for their comforting presence. Traveling made me nervous, and this time was no different. My husband, Art, and I were on our way to Boston, driving up from New Jersey in our trusty Honda to visit one of our daughters. Art looked over at me. “Let’s pray for safety on our journey,” he said. As he and I prayed the rosary, I felt as if God were watching over us. “Amen,” we said together.
Suddenly I dropped the rosary beads! They fell between the passenger seat and the center console. I inched my fingers down to try to pull them out, but it was no use. “There’s a rest stop up ahead,” Art said. “You can try to get them out then.”
Art pulled into the parking lot. I got out, opened the right side rear door and got down on my knees, feeling around for the beads. Aha! Part of the beads grazed my fingertips. I tried to pry them from their spot. Lord, please free my rosaries, I prayed. Art tried too. They wouldn’t budge.
We were about to get into the car when Art turned to me. “Do you smell something burning?”
“Hmm, sort of,” I said. We sniffed around the car but couldn’t figure out where the smell was coming from.
“It’s probably from another car,” Art said. “Let’s get going. We’ll try to free the beads later.”
Finally, about three hours later, we reached our exit. On our way into the city, Art spotted a Honda dealership. “Maybe they can free the rosaries,” he said, pulling in.
Art walked over to one of the mechanics. “Oh, rosary beads,” the young man said, smiling. “Reminds me of my mom. I’ll take a look.” The mechanic reached in and tugged on the beads. “This might take a while,” he said. “They’re wedged in there pretty good.” Then he popped his head up. “Do you smell fumes?”
The mechanic grabbed a flashlight and examined the car. Then asked if he could put it on a lift to get a better look. Art and I took a seat, prepared to wait. But 10 minutes later the mechanic came hurriedly back to us, shaking his head.
“Talk about divine intervention,” he said. “You’ve got a bad leak in the reservoir that holds your power steering fluid. There’s not a drop left. What’s worse is that the fluid has been dripping on the catalytic converter, which gives off tremendous heat. Pretty soon, your car could have caught on fire. You would have lost control of the wheel. If you hadn’t stopped in now…”
When I held the rosary beads again in my hand, I said a prayer of thanks to the One who watches over us, always.
