21/05/2026
READ YE, HEAR YE
ADVOCATE OF THE IMPOSSIBLE
It was the first illustrated story I ever read. As a fifth grader then, her arranged marriage when she was twelve years old was incomprehensible. The domestic violence she experienced as a young wife was beyond me, too. Her abusive husband’s drunkenness, on a regular basis, was also awful and scary. At the time, I had not read, or seen, or heard anything similar. I wondered: How did she endure it all and stayed?
Almost half a century later, my recollection of her story is still vivid. As a wife, mother, religious sister- her journey was marked by pain, trial, suffering. Still, there was joy in faith.
The marriage lasted for eighteen years. Her husband was ambushed and slain by political factions (feuding family or enemies). But she had already converted him to the faith. Whence, rather than committal of mortal sin in vendetta for their murdered father, she prayed death instead, for her teenage sons.
As a little girl, Margherita Lotti used to visit the Agustinian convent and dreamed of becoming a nun one day. When she was widowed and her twin sons died of natural illness, she tried to pursue her dream anew. Initially, she was denied entry but in 1413, she was accepted by the Agustinian nuns to join the Order. For forty years, she was admired for her austerity, devotion to prayer and her role in peace-making among the citizens of Cascia.
Everytime I recall her story, what outweighs the thought of suffering in her young life was the miracle at the beginning of her cloistered life. The superior tested her submission and obedience by ordering her to water a dead grapevine twig to life. And it did grow and thrive! (A whole page of the magazine illustrated Sr. Rita watering it diligently.)
What amazed me as a young reader then was the wound on her forehead and how she acquired it. It happened when she was sixty years old. While she was meditating on an image of the Crucified Christ, a small wound appeared on her forehead. It was as if a thorn from the crown coiled on the Lord’s head had pierced her own flesh. Sr. Rita bore this wound up until her death.
I do not quite recall the Legend of the Rose if it was in the illustrated story or I might have already forgotten that part. As she was dying, she requested a relative to bring her a rose from her parents’ garden. Because it was winter, it was dangerous and impossible to find one in the harsh environment. As the relative climbed the steep paths, she saw the brightly colored rose exactly where Sr. Rita said it would be. The Saint whose own impossible requests had granted her, had become the advocate of all those whose own requests seem impossible, too. Her feast day is May 22.
May St Rita, a woman of strength, resilience and faith, help us to choose forgiveness over revenge; to obey persons of authority and to make peace and charity the order of the day.
St Rita of Cascia, pray for us.
📸 The preserved remains of Santa Rita de Cascia lie in a sealed glass coffin inside the Basilica of Santa Rita de Cascia, Italy.
