Our Lady of the Workbench

I did not grow up in a household of churchgoers.  When I was a child, if I wanted to go to church – and I did, to the local Methodist church – I was on my own.

So imagine my surprise when, while cleaning out my parents’ home, I came face to face with this icon of Mary hanging above my father’s workbench.

It was shortly after my mother died, just ten months after my father’s death. Suddenly my brother and I were confronted with all of our parents’ earthly possessions Keep reading