Feast of St. Monica

August 27, 2007

“You put forth your hand from on high,” and you drew my soul out of that pit of darkness, when before you my mother, your faithful servant, wept more for me than mothers weep over their children’s dead bodies. By that spirit of faith which she had from you, she saw my death, and you graciously heard her, O Lord. Graciously you heard her, and you did not despise her tears when they flowed down from her eyes and watered the earth beneath, in whatsoever place she prayed. Graciously you heard her. For whence was that dream by which you consoled her, so that she consented to live with me and to share the same table with me in my home? For this she had begun to be unwilling to do, turning her back on my errors and detesting them. She saw herself standing upon a certain wooden rule, and coming towards her a young man, splendid, joyful, and smiling upon her, although she grieved and was crushed with grief. When he asked her the reasons for her sorrow and her daily tears — he asked, as is the custom, not for the sake of learning but of teaching — she replied that she lamented for my perdition. Then he bade her rest secure, and instructed her that she should attend and see that where she was, there was I also. And when she looked there she saw me standing on the same rule. Whence was this, but that your ears were inclined towards her heart, O you, the good omnipotent, who so care for each one of us as if you care for him alone, and who care for all as for each single person?

Whence too was this, that when she had narrated the vision to me and I attempted to distort it to mean rather that she should not despair of becoming what I already was, she immediately replied without any hesitation: “No!” she said. “It was not said to me, ‘Where he is, there also are you,’ but ‘Where you are, there also is he.'” I confess to you, Lord, that my memory of this, as best I can recall it, and I often spoke of it, is that I was more disturbed by your answer to me through my mother — for she was not disturbed by the likely-seeming falsity of my interpretation and quickly saw what was to be seen, which I certainly did not see before she spoke — than by the dream itself. By this dream the joy of that holy woman, to be fulfilled so long afterwards, was predicted much beforehand so as to bring consolation in her then present solicitude. For almost nine years passed, in which I wallowed “in the mire of the deep” and in the darkness of error, and although I often strove to rise out of it, I was all the more grievously thrust down again. But all the while, that chaste, devout, and sober widow, one such as those you love, already livelier in hope, but no less assiduous in weeping and mourning, ceased not in all her hours of prayer to lament over me before you. Her prayers entered into your sight, but you still abandoned me to turn and turn yet again in that darkness.

– St. Augustine, Confessions, Bk. III
(trans. John K. Ryan)

One Response to “Feast of St. Monica”

  1. Young single mothers are just like any other teens. They eat poorly, sometimes drink, or smoke. They’re influenced by peer pressure to become sexually active and then when they become pregnant, those same influences can be damaging to her child. After the baby is born a young single mother and friends may part ways. The mother may face alienation and ridicule from the same friends that helped to influence the same behavior that got her in trouble.


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