When I celebrated my first communion I was given many gifts. I can remember the joy I experienced at receiving statues of the Infant of Prague, of Our Lady of Fatima and of Saint Joseph. My absolute favorite was a statue of Mary wearing a beautiful dress in pastel colors. She had pretty blond hair and there was a built-in mechanism that played Immaculate Mary. I was quite surprised that my friends in school did not share my enthusiasm when I brought this statue for show and tell. Regardless, I was happy to have received the greatest number of saintly statuary and I was quite pleased with the singing statue of Mary.
At the beginning of the month of May, which is dedicated to Mary I fondly remember my singing Mary statue. She is now safely packed away in my brother’s attic with other religious relics I left behind when I came to the United States. When I first got her, she received a place of honor in my bedroom. She stayed there until I learned that Mary in real life would neither have had blond hair nor worn pastel colored flowing robes and she did not reveal herself as the Immaculate Conception until fairly recently.
Mary was Jewish, the mother of Jesus and the wife of Joseph, who is said to have been a carpenter. She was born to a poor family and led a hard life managing her household. She must have worried about her son whose cross she flanked and whose lifeless body she cradled. She was also the one who recognized Jesus as the Messiah before most everyone else. And she testified to this not only during her lifetime, but also after she was assumed into heaven during her many apparitions.
I have always been fascinated by these apparitions. It seems like Mary has always known that by appearing in the image of the people she could win them for her son. For instance, when she appeared in Mexico as “Our Lady of Guadalupe” she appeared as an Aztec princess. Thus the Aztec people could recognize themselves in Mary and Christianity became more accessible. In Vietnam she appeared as a Vietnamese woman. In Africa she appeared as African. In Belgium, she appeared as a Belgian with blond hair and wearing a pastel dress. Indeed, Mary has taken on the shape, color and form of most every woman in our world.
Today, my entire house is filled with religious art. There are images of Mary from all around the world and none of them sing. Like the many representations of Mary in The Basilica, they are reminders of the many faces of Mary, mother of the church and of the many faces of all mothers of our world. They are a constant invitation for us to commit ourselves to a greater love for one another, a totally gratuitous love exemplified by the mother of Jesus as well as by our own mothers.