A Prayer on a Rainy Day
I always believed there had to be noise:
A house without the sounds of children was empty
A quiet construction site surely must be stalling
A class without noise was more than likely failing.
A silent conversation between two had come to a quiet stop.
In other words, nothing could progress.
But then, I met him, a quiet man.
I never heard him speak, but there he made things.
There were tools on his leather apron, his quiet company.
He motioned for me to walk with him, to see and believe:
A silent house full of children as the family prayed
The sounds of a carpenter carefully crafting is hard to hear
A class without noise is still full of memories and smiles
The relaxation of one into another involves no sound.
In other words, progress was still made.
This silent man, with calluses on his fingers
The knicks and cuts of many splinters and accidents
Reminded me of another carpenter I knew of
Yet before I could ask, he nodded with a soft smile.
I understood then that this man was one of action.
One who never focused on speaking but on creating.
His works would speak for themselves;
A reflection of his faith and himself.
Two more came to sight: a woman in blue and a man with a crown of thorns.
He held them both in his arms and I knew then,
St. Joseph, a beloved husband and father, a quiet prayerful man,
A carpenter whose character and trade I wanted to learn from.
St. Joseph, pray for us!
Holy Mary, pray for us!
Jesus, son of God, have mercy on us!
Holy family, pray for us.