Article March 25, 1996 Issue

Glory to God, peace to you and to all

Marguerite Saye

I was wrong and I knew it. Although I was miserable, I refused to change my position. Tears flowed as I washed the dishes that warm July evening. I tried to pray, but God seemed far away. In desperation I cried, "Father, help me."

Swift as a human parent's rush to pick up a fallen child, one word flashed before my thought: "Glory." I knew it was an answer to my prayer.

I considered what glory could mean to me. Light and power. Praise. Great beauty. Blessings, not curses. Infinite blessings, poured out for all to see and rejoice in. I remembered that Renaissance artists painted halos above saints' heads. These crowns, meant to represent innocence, were often called glories. How lovely the word and all it stood for!

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