Mary, Megan and I spent a weekend last November with friends at a vacation home in Yosemite National Park. We arrived Saturday afternoon. Our breath mingled with the crisp, winter air in puffs of frozen vapor. Every majestic evergreen seemed to stretch all the way up to the Creator of all beautiful things through the clouded blue sky.
We gathered wood for the fire, prepared a delicious meal and enjoyed the rest of the day indoors. Sunday morning, we attended Mass at Our Lady of Sierra Parish in Oakhurst. Later that day, we decided to take a casual hike on one of the nearby trails to explore our surroundings. We were on a trail that seemed well-traveled and safe enough for everyone. We discovered a beautiful waterfall and descended another path to the pool at the bottom. After posing for some pictures, we climbed back up to the trail and continued our hike.
It was just around the bend that the trail narrowed to about two feet. Mary was in front with Megan in the middle as I watched everyone from behind. My words, “be careful girls,” were immediately followed by the most horrific moment that any parent can imagine. Megan lost her footing on the slippery soil. We were twenty-five or thirty feet up looking straight down a certain-deadly drop. I recall watching her knitted blue and gray tassel hat tumble in slow motion to the rock-strewn bottom. I don't remember lunging to catch her but that's exactly what happened. It was as though I was pushed. I found myself holding Megan with one hand by the hood of her coat. She dangled with her hands and feet desperately outstretched between heaven and earth, between eternity and mortality. Had we not insisted that she zip her coat, Megan would have slipped out of her “life jacket” and fallen out of our earthly life. I pulled her up to safety with a single adrenaline-pumped, grace-filled yank!
We collapsed on the trail in a family embrace. Tears fell in a bittersweet stream of indescribable fear and wordless praise and thanksgiving. With the resilience of a normal six-year-old, Megan cried for a few more seconds and decided she wanted to continue the hike. She had one request. “Can we just not talk about this anymore?!” The trail just ahead was wide and very family-friendly. We stopped at a beautiful vista, snapped a few more pictures and returned holding hands the entire way back.
Weeks later, I was hanging Megan’s coat and was thankful to see the Miraculous Medal that I pinned on the inside pocket long before our memorable trip to Yosemite.
The moral of this unembellished testimony: Consecrate your family to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
As Dr. Ray Guarendi, renowned clinical psychologist, author and talk-radio host, says at the end of each radio broadcast, “Walk with God and hold your kids real tight by the hand.“
For more information on family consecration, click here.
