The sweet smell of rose petals linger in the air, while the tears of a Mother fall to the ground. Her heart is pierced with many thorns and her steps are marked with suffering. She offers everything to the Father; her breath, her heartbeats, her life, all belongs to Him.
Her words are spoken in a sweet, melodious way, “May it be done to me” and she holds nothing back from God.
The glistening dew of the rose falls to the ground, watering it to spring forth joy amidst the pain; desolations turn into consolations as her gaze is lifted up to the Heavens.
Our Lady of Sorrows, pray for us.
Fears and Tears 
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