Leave It to Mary—Friendship, Cake, and Happy Birthday

I had a different reflection planned in my head for today.

I had noticed the way the morning sun fell across an image of Stella Maris holding Jesus, the statue of Mary sitting on my kitchen island beside the candle I lit in honor of her birthday, and the most perfect blue sky, Mary’s color, above me as I took a midmorning walk I had almost talked myself out of taking.

All these little glimpses of blue and light had me thinking about the Blessed Mother and all the ways she has blessed my life in the most motherly of ways.

Our life, our sweetness and our hope.

We say those words every time we pray the Hail Holy Queen, and perhaps today I was noticing a little of that sweetness and hope all around me.

I wanted to write today about how she always leads us to her Son.

Jesus came to us through Mary, after all. Literally, through the womb of Mary.

I ponder this often. I have written about it before here.

To Jesus through Mary.

She keeps nothing for herself. When we ask for her intercession or pick up the beads of the Rosary, she takes our hands and gently places them in His.

And from the Cross, Jesus gives her to us, too:

“Behold, your mother.” —John 19:27

I thought perhaps I would write about Mary’s ordinary life. About how, in a world that glorifies the extraordinary, she reminds us of the holiness found in the ordinary. Loving. Serving. Caring for a home and family. Showing up faithfully for the person God has placed before us.

I had all sorts of thoughts and stories about Our Lady worth sharing. One of the most tender goes back to the last month of Jon’s life, before we began hospice, when it felt as though the veil between heaven and earth lifted just a little. It left me with an image I have carried ever since: both sides of the veil clinging to Jesus.

Or maybe I would write about all the wisdom found in the life of Jesus’ Mother and our Blessed Mother. What she can teach us about wisdom and love, gentleness and courage, humility and docility, surrender and trust. About her fiat. Her willingness to receive what God asked of her, even when she could not possibly know all that her yes would require.

There are so many things Our Lady has taught me, and so many stories I could tell.

But the day got away from me.

As days sometimes do.

There were domestic duties and motherly things that needed tending to. There were also some big things I was holding in my heart and placing into Mary’s hands.

And apparently my reflection about the holiness of ordinary life was going to have to wait while I actually lived some of it.

Then a message arrived from a friend who has long been a special friend and something of a spiritual mother to me.

“Beautiful day for Our Lady.”

We share a deep love for Mary, so of course I smiled.

My own love for the Blessed Mother is deeply connected to my mother, too, who was born on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. I once wrote an entire chapter in a book about that story.

Later, after taking a few hours to care for myself, I headed out to run some errands.

While I was out, another dear friend texted me, excited because she had just learned that a little something she had sent me would be arriving today. A few days ago, she had told me something was coming but wasn’t sure when it would arrive.

Now she knew it was coming.

On Mary’s birthday.

And at the exact moment her text came through, I was picking up a little cake to celebrate the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. This is liturgical living in our domestic church.

Because, of course, birthdays call for cake.

Well, birthdays and lots of other things worth celebrating. And so do little meaningful gifts from friends.

When I got home, there it was. The gift my friend sent in the mailbox.

I couldn’t wait to tear into the box to see what she had sent. She always sends the most thoughtful and appropriate gifts.

The card made me smile even more. Both the card sentiments and the handwritten note inside meant the world.

“Friends are the sprinkles on the cupcake of life.”

Of course it said something about cupcakes on the very day I happened to be bringing home a birthday cake for Mary.

Inside was the sweetest mug and a note telling me she had been thinking of me as I sent my youngest off to college and wanted to send something to “hug my heart.”

And hug my heart it did.

By another sweet coincidence—or not, because the friend knows—the mug matched the well known designs I have gathered here and there for my mug rack over the years. Some are covered in single words and others little sentiments that have more than once inspired reflections I have written.

Fitting mugs, I suppose, for this word-loving, word-weaving heart of mine.

But there was one more little sweetness tucked into all of it.

On this dear and generous friend’s recent birthday, I shared a photo of two mugs from my trusty collection, one a birthday cup, and wrote that I wished we lived closer so we could sit together over coffee and celebrate her birthday. So she knows how meaningful these cups are to me.

She has been one of the dearest and most supportive friends through this journey of caregiving and loss.

So has the friend who sent the earlier message about this beautiful day for Our Lady.

Two women, dear supportive friends, who have, in different ways, helped carry and mother my heart.

And now the mug one of them sent to “hug my heart” arrived on another birthday.

The Blessed Virgin Mary’s.

There is something so lovely about being known by a friend. About someone thinking of your heart from miles away and choosing a small gesture simply to remind you that you are loved.

She couldn’t have known when she sent it what day it would arrive. She didn’t know all that weight on my momma heart when I woke up today, September 8. and for the last several days, I am caring heavy things in my heart for my children. I think as Mothers we all do

Maybe that’s part of what makes these little moments and special little winks that much sweeter. Maybe, for just a moment, the veil lifted a little.

I have come to think of these little connections as winks from heaven. Consolations from God. Small encounters with Jesus and, sometimes, His Mother that seem to find me in the middle of ordinary life.

Maybe they would seem ordinary to someone else. Maybe they could be explained away as coincidence or missed completely in the busyness of a day.

But I have learned to pay attention.

To the light falling across an image of Mary and Jesus. To a blue sky overhead. To the words of a friend arriving when my heart needs them. To a gift that somehow finds its way to my doorstep on just the right day. Even to a card about cupcakes arriving while Mary’s birthday cake is sitting on my kitchen counter.

These are the places where I see God making space and moving in my life. Not always in the extraordinary, but so often in the small, ordinary details that invite me to notice that He is near.

Perhaps that is part of consolation, too. It’s not proof nor an explanation for everything we carry. Just a little tenderness along the way. A reminder to keep our eyes open for grace.

I started the day wanting to write about the ways Mary has mothered me.

I started the day wanting to write something about the ways Mary has mothered me.

Instead, I tended to my own motherly things. I asked Mary to tend to a few things I couldn’t. And I was reminded of the ways God has given me women who have tended to me, too.

Maybe I wrote that reflection after all. It may not be the longest reflection I have written, but it is a very meaninful one. Our Lady and friendship both deserve a space on this day.

The mug from my very thoughtful and generous friend says, “A sweet friendship refreshes the soul.”

A sweet friendship refreshes the soul.”

Indeed, it does.

Leave it to Mary to care for us through the hands of a friend or two…and make sure there is cake.

May we always have cake to celebrate.

May we never forget the gift of Our Lady, the Mother Jesus gave to us from the Cross.

May we recognize her gentle presence and allow her, again and again, to lead us closer to her Son.

Happy Birthday, Blessed Virgin Mary.

And thank you, dear friends, for the ways you hug my heart.

“What is most important in the eyes of God often passes unnoticed by men, who commonly seek extraordinary things. By imitating Our Lady, we learn the value of little things done every day out of love.”

F. Fernandez, Conversations with God: