The Pearl Rosary:
When the Universe Answers an Unspoken Prayer

I Told No One

I hadn’t told a soul. Not one.

You know, lately I’ve been wondering about saying the rosary.

Now, I want you to know — I have mantra beads for Buddhist chants, beads for Hindu chants, and beads used in the Muslim faith, and I love all of them. Sacred is sacred to me, whatever form it takes. But lately something has been nudging me toward the rosary specifically. Toward Mary. Toward those prayers I grew up with. I even looked at the rosary I have hanging from the hands of a Mother Mary statue in my home. And I thought — maybe that one. But for some reason, something in me said not that one. I want pearls. I thought, well…I’ll wait. I’m going to Medjugorje in a few weeks. Maybe I’ll find a pearl rosary there. That felt right, so I let it go and didn’t think too much more about it.

I told no one. Not a soul.

Signs From the Universe Often Arrive Quietly

And then it was Jaime’s birthday.

Now, even though Jacqui and I always give Jaime a gift together, I always bring something just from me on my daughters’ birthdays. A special gift from mom. I was so excited about what I’d found for her — I walked over to her place with that gift practically buzzing in my hands. Jaime made us a cup of coffee, as she always does. We sat down together. And I told her to close her eyes — you know me, I love to create a little atmosphere of excitement when I give a gift. She closed her eyes, I placed it in her hands, and then I’m the one sitting there all excited, watching her face.

She opened it. And when she saw what was inside she gasped. Oh Mom, she said. These earrings are beautiful. She put them on right away. They looked so pretty on her. I was just so happy.

And then — guess what she did?

She got up and said, wait, I have something for you.

For me? What?? It’s your birthday!

I know, she said. But I want to give you something.

She went to the other room. When she came back she said, hold out your hand — and she placed in my palm a pretty little pink netted bag, tied with a ribbon.

I opened it.

And there, to my absolute surprise, was a beautiful pearl rosary.

I gasped. To be honest, I just gasped.

And then she said — Mom. I made this for you.

A Pearl Rosary, Handcrafted With Love

She had wire wrapped every single bead herself. Each pearl held with such love and care that I could literally feel it as I held it in my hands. Dangling from it was a beautiful crystal cross. So pretty. A beautiful pearl rosary, handcrafted, with her own two hands, as a gift to me — on her birthday.

Of course I cried. You know I cried.

“I hadn’t told a soul I wanted a pearl rosary. And yet there it was — made by my daughter’s hands, given on her birthday, wrapped in love she couldn’t even explain.”

I’ve been sitting with this ever since. Turning it over. Marvelling at it.

Jaime had no idea. How could she? I hadn’t breathed a word. And yet something moved through her — some intuitive soul knowing — that led her to make this, bead by bead, pearl by pearl, and place it in a little pink bag with a ribbon and give it to me on her own birthday.

That’s not a coincidence. I don’t believe in that kind of coincidence.

That is the Divine, speaking in the language it knows will reach me. Not through a sign in the sky. Through my daughter’s hands.

An Invitation Back to Prayer

And so now I find myself asking the question that has been in my heart ever since that morning over coffee.

Is this my invitation to say the rosary?

I think it might be. Actually, that’s exactly what it is.

Apparition Hill and Signs From the Universe

And I think I’ll be holding those pearls — those hand-wrapped, love-made pearls — on Apparition Hill in Medjugorje at the solstice, saying prayers from my childhood that I’m only just beginning to find my way back to.

Has something like this ever happened to you? A wish you held only in your heart — answered before you even finished thinking it?

The universe is always listening. Even to the still small voice we barely let ourselves hear.

With love and pearls in hand,
Dehyana