Faith vs. Superstition

On my lunch break I hopped in my car and drove over to St. Maximilan Catholic Bookstore in downtown Elk River. I asked the mild-mannered lady behind the counter if she sold "little St. Joseph statues." She asked if I was trying to sell my house, and then got up and pulled a smallish box out of a drawer behind the counter. I thought, but didn't actually say:

Are St. Joseph statues in such hot demand that you have to keep them behind the counter? I mean, who's gonna steal a little plastic statue?

I told her that I'd heard it works. She said, "Sure, if you have faith and aren't superstitious about it." Uh oh. Am I that transparent? I thought for sure I was busted. She then handed over the box, but I thought I detected some trepidation as she did so.

I took the box and commented on how cute he is. After that I thought for sure she was going to take him away from me. I hurriedly paid $8.50 and got out of there, feeling a bit like a heathen.

I found I couldn't wait to get home and meet the little statue I've affectionately nicknamed Joe.

Here's what I got for my $8.50:

I pulled Joe out of the box and discovered three small sheets of paper: An Introduction to the Saint Joseph Home Sale Practice, A Petition to St. Joseph (a prayer, basically), and the original Prayer to St. Joseph (over 1900 years old!). On the back of that last one was an address to which I could send a donation, should I graciously decide to share my good fortune with the Pious Union of St. Joseph.

I read over all the papers to see if there were any specific instructions I should follow. Finding none, I decided to bury Joe in a vacant portion of my backyard garden. I grabbed the statue, my shoes, and my camera and trekked outside.

It took me a few seconds to decide on an appropriate garden spot for Joe. I decided on the empty carrot bed, as it was closest to my house. I grabbed the garden trowel and dug a hole:

I gently placed Joe right-side up in the hole and covered him with dirt. I even remembered to mark him so I would know where to find him later:

And then, because I really want to try and be faithful rather than superstitious, I stood there next to the garden and recited aloud the Petition to St. Joseph:

Dear St. Joseph, head of the most perfect household, foster father of Jesus and guardian of His mother Mary, I confidently place myself and all my concerns under your care and protection. I ask that, through your powerful intercession with God, you obtain for me all the help and graces that I need for my spiritual and temporal welfare and in particular, the special favor I now ask: the prompt sale of my home.

Good St. Joseph, I know with confidence, that your prayers on my behalf will be heard by God, and if it is His Will, it will be done.

Thank you St. Joseph, for having responded to my call.

Amen.

I don't think any of my neighbors saw me doing this, but if they happened to look outside, they probably think I'm a little cuckoo. Okay, a lot cuckoo.

But hey. You do what you gotta do, right? Here's hoping St. Joseph heard me and decides to send a little mojo my way.