When I was a junior or senior in college, a group of friends decided we would head to Miami for spring break. It was not to party, but rather to do a week-long evangelization mission – to give our faith to others. Some of us went reluctantly, wanting to relax rather than work, while others urged us on.  We went to a parish, slept on the floor in the rectory and for a week invited people to a living rosary, the climax and end of the mission; the pastor wanted to foster devotion to Mary.

   Although we also snuck away one day to enjoy the sand and surf, we had a beautiful turn-out for the living rosary the last evening of the mission. A friend and I supported a statue of Mary as we walked around the Church grounds, with hundreds praying the rosary all around us. The next day we were off to college again, we said our good-byes and figured God would take care of the rest.

   Two years later, after graduating from college I was finishing a year as a volunteer for the Church. We were in Paris with a group of college students, waiting to visit the Shrine of the Miraculous Medal. There in this narrow alley, I exchanged perplexed glances with this other volunteer who was also with me in Miami, the same one who helped sustain the image of Mary in the living rosary. We were surrounded by familiar faces. “Why do we recognize these people?”, we asked each other. Then at the sight of the priest we both responded amazed, “Miami!”. The same people we had offer a spring break for there in Miami had grown in their devotion to Mary and made a pilgrimage to Paris to this shrine… and we just happened to be there the same sunny afternoon, this one day we were passing through Paris, two years later.