Once upon a time, when I had more time, I would jog every morning and pray the rosary over the last mile or so. It gave me something to look forward to during the rest of the run, and I knew when I was praying that I was almost done. Now with a baby who wants her mama home in the morning when she wakes up, the morning runs are a thing of the past (and, I hope, the future) and I’m trying to find another time to make a habit of praying the rosary. Recently, both my father-in-law and mother-in-law have been ill, in the hospital and then in rehab. Both are doing well and expected to return home, but life has been strange for the past several weeks. My husband has been traveling between work, hospital and rehab center and has been home less; my children can’t go downstairs and see their grandparents (although they still go down to their apartment to watch the big TV and use their computer, if ours is occupied. It makes the place look lived in, and helps them feel a connection to their grandparents). So one day when I was driving them to school (another break in routine; that’s usually my husband’s job) and Caroline and Frank were jawing back and forth and asking me the time every 10 seconds because they were afraid we would be late, I called a halt to the back and forth and announced that we would pray a decade of the rosary for their grandparents. The move inspired some questions, showing me how derelict I have been in teaching them about the rosary. What’s a decade and why is it called that? What are the glorious mysteries? Because while we have always prayed at bedtime, and occasionally participated in rosaries as part of other religious devotions, I can’t remember the last time we prayed the rosary as a family. The rosary was always my prayer, one that I said when I was alone. My kids own rosaries, and I know we’ve talked about how to pray it, but example always teaches better than words. But they went along with it without arguing with me or with each other. They were pleased to be able to do something for their grandparents, and sharing their anxiety with the Blessed Mother helped relieve it. And, blessedly, we had no more arguments that morning about what was a good song on the radio or who made whom late. In fact, we arrived at school right on time, and they were in a much better frame of mind to start the day. It worked so well that we did it again on the way home.