Being born on the threshold of one of Mary’s solemnities always felt like more than a coincidence, as though my life began beneath the gentle shadow of her mantle. Even as a child, it felt precious to me—a small sign of her love, quietly placed at the beginning of my story.
As I grew older, I noticed Marian threads everywhere. My favorite Saints were deeply devoted to our Lady, and other connections were apparent throughout my life.
My closest sister in age was named Mary. My best friend in high school was born on the Feast of the Queenship of Mary. My college roommate shared the same childhood misunderstanding I had: We knew we were not sinless, of course, but we still tried to be especially good “just in case” God might someday ask something important of us, the way He asked Mary to bear Christ into the world. Another dear friend later served with me on a mission trip to Lourdes. I was also a member of Stella Mariae Household (a society similar to a sorority) at Franciscan University.
Looking back, Mary seemed to be everywhere. Perhaps I should have recognized the pattern sooner when I fell in love with and married a man named Christopher—a “Christ-bearer.” Because we were married on New Year’s Eve, our evening Mass used the anticipatory readings for the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God. A “Christ-bearer” marrying a “Grace” beneath the Church’s celebration of Mary. It seemed she intended to continue accompanying us with her loving support throughout our marriage.
The Marian threads woven throughout my own life soon extended into the life of our growing family. Over the years, we have recognized Mary’s maternal presence in five unique ways.
1) Theotokos and Our Marriage
Theotokos—Mary the God-bearer—became the first Marian patron of our family. Over the ten years that have followed, our Lady has continued to make her presence known. She has extended her tender patronage over each of our four children—three entrusted to our arms on earth and one entrusted to Heaven. Each child carries a different Marian imprint. Through each of my children, I have come to know that Mary’s motherhood is not abstract, but deeply personal, attentive, and alive.
2) Our Lady of the Assumption, Though August Came Early
Born on the eve of the Solemnity of the Assumption, this feast has always held a special place in my heart. When my husband and I were ready to welcome our first child, I turned to our Lady in prayer. A novena to this August Queen brought me inner peace, even through the long months of negative pregnancy tests that followed.
Eventually, we conceived and during the second trimester, I realized something that felt far too meaningful to ignore: This baby was due in August, within days of the Feast of the Assumption. A wave of gratitude and affirmation washed over me. Our Lady of the Assumption had truly been interceding for this child from the very beginning.
Though our daughter arrived before August, we named her Imogene, meaning “pure” or “maiden,” as a quiet tribute to her heavenly patroness.
3) The Annunciation, Mary in Our Sorrow
Three years later, we were expecting our second child. Within a week, I began to miscarry. Heartbroken, we found continued help from our Lady. Though we knew next to nothing about this child, we calculated the potential due date. It was March 25—the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord—the day our faith celebrates Mary’s fiat and Jesus’ conception.
Seeing another Marian connection—one in which she had entrusted herself to God’s will rather than her own understanding—helped soothe our heartache. Prayerfully, we decided to name the child Edith Colbie after Edith Stein, also known as Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross and Saint Maximilian Kolbe. Both had deep devotions to the Virgin Mother.
4) The Immaculate Conception and Our Immaculate Arrival
Our third child was due in mid-December and came into our lives while our family was making a consecration to the foster father of Jesus during the Year of Saint Joseph.
About a month before she was due, we settled on the name Anne Reagan. We loved the name Anne for many reasons: its sound, its Saintly heritage, and its connection to my husband’s beloved grandmother. Reagan, meaning “descended from royalty,” felt like a fitting nod to Saint Joseph, who came from the royal line of David.
To our amazement, little Anne Reagan arrived a week early on December 8—the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception. Once again, we stood in awe of Mary’s unmistakable presence in the lives of our children. But the wonder deepened even further when we remembered whose womb held the Immaculate Conception herself: Saint Anne. Furthermore, that date was the final day of the Year of Saint Joseph. Was there a Saint more devoted to our Lady than her own husband?
5) Nourished by Our Lady of La Leche
As part of the 2025 Jubilee Year, our family made a pilgrimage to the National Shrine of Our Lady of La Leche. Though our visit was brief, its meaning left a lasting impression on my heart. I was quietly reassured that Mary understands both the joys and sorrows of parenting, and she desires to continue nourishing us on our pilgrimage to Heaven.
In trust and gratitude for the many graces provided through the pilgrimage, we conceived our fourth child. As I write this, she is due within days. We chose to name her Molly, a derivative of Mary. In Hebrew tradition, the name can carry meanings such as “bitter” or “wished-for child,” a fitting reminder that even from sorrow, beauty and blessing can emerge.
The name also traces back to the Latin mollis, meaning “tender,” “gentle,” or “soft”—qualities that seem especially fitting for a child entrusted to the care of Our Lady of La Leche, whose image of nursing the Infant Jesus reflects such profound maternal tenderness.
The Marys in Our Midst
Our family’s experience of Mary’s presence is far from unique. From the foot of the Cross, Christ entrusted all of us to her care (see John 19:26-27). She has been loving, guiding, consoling, and interceding for His children ever since.
Perhaps that is why Marian echoes seem to appear so often once we begin paying attention. A feast day. A name. A prayer answered. A providential encounter. A moment of consolation during sorrow. What at first appears coincidental slowly begins to feel deeply intentional, like the unmistakable fingerprints of a mother who has always been near.
Sisters, I cannot help but wonder what “Marys” have echoed throughout your lives. Which moments, people, places, or providential details now seem touched by her presence? Perhaps they have been there longer than you realized. Perhaps our Lady has been gently drawing you closer to her Son all along too.
