This was the first book I did in the Monastery. It is available on Amazon either as a Paperback or Kindle. All paperback sales go to support the monastery while the Sisters have graciously allowed Kindle sales to go to me.

A Knock at the Door

by Karen Cecile Hunt – Canby, Oregon

Days always seemed to last so long when I was young, and now much too short as I get older.

When I was a teenager, my two brothers, Dad and Mom and I lived on a farm in Salem, Oregon. My dad was primarily a farmer, but he did have a variety of other jobs over the years as well. Before the Great Depression, Dad bought and sold new automobiles. When Mom had to go into town to do shopping, she would leave my brother and me at the automobile business with Dad. My brother and I used to play hide-and-seek in the Cars!

As a family, we always prayed the rosary every night during Advent and Lent. Other times of the year we prayed the rosary, too, but not every night. I do, however, recall one certain week in particular when we were on our knees every night praying the rosary.

With the onset of the Great Depression, nobody had any money and our family was no exception. Things were hard all over. Mom was a professional seamstress and sewed miles of fabric making vestments for the priests and cassocks for the altar boys. Dad was not able to keep his automobile business and he now bought and sold horses and later sheep for income.

The week that comes most to mind when I think about how we used to pray the rosary together was during the Great Depression. My folks were just days from losing our home. We knew unless a miracle happened that we weren’t going to have a house. My folks had simply exhausted all measures to come up with the mortgage payments. For a week straight, every night after super, mom had us all get down on our knees and pray the rosary.

We had been praying every night for almost an entire week. We knew the bank was going to foreclose on our home the following day. My brothers and I knew that my folks were very worried. On the last day of the week, just as we were almost finished with the last mystery of the rosary, there was a knock at the door.

I got up and went to answer the door. The man asked for my Dad and then said to him, “I bought a car from you many years ago, and I still owe you $10.00 on that car. I would like to pay you now.”

That knock at the door that evening was a most welcome knock indeed! The $10.00 that was paid by the stranger was just enough money to keep my folks from losing their home.