In Walsingham, a village in Norfolk, England, in 1061, Mary appeared to a widow who later saw to it that a chapel was built. The widow, Lady Richeldis, had a holy house built that was a replica of the house the Holy Family lived in during their time in Nazareth. For hundreds of years, pilgrims and devotees journeyed to Walsingham to pay their respects.
Mary, as Our Lady of Walsingham, seems to be a bridge, a common ground, a shared blankie of sorts, between the divisions created when the Church of England was established. Devotion to Our Lady of Walsingham has inspired Anglicans and Roman Catholics to stand side-by-side in prayer, to erect shared shrines, to remember their common background.
How much of a stretch is it, really, to picture Mary as a blankie? How often do we reach, blindly, for comfort in old familiar places? Maybe Jesus didn’t need a blankie after all, when He had the arms of His mother. He could rest in the comfort of her care, just as we can. The image of her, our maternal blankie, can remind us of Mary’s protection and that of the angels who watch over us. Maybe the lesson, for me, is that Mary is the only blankie I need, the comfort that will always lead me back to the One I’m called to serve.
O blessed Virgin Mary, Our Lady of Walsingham, Mother of God and our most gentle Queen and Mother, look down in mercy upon us. By you it was that Jesus, our Savior and hope, was given to the world, and He has given you to us that we may hope still more. Plead for us, your children, whom you did receive and accept at the foot of the Cross, O sorrowful Mother. Pray for us all, dear Mother, that by faith fruitful in good works, we all may be made worthy to see and praise God, together with you in our heavenly home. Amen.
