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We're all familiar with the whispering little red guy, holding a pitchfork while hovering over our shoulder, tempting us with shady ideas. I was formally introduced to him in 1965 by Sister Mary Humilita, who taught first grade at St. Joseph's School in Lake Ronkonkoma, N.Y.

I'm amazed at how often this little guy hovers over my shoulder. I have to admit that, although following his ideas has gotten me into messes, being aware of his murky shenanigans has often kept me out of them.

Awareness is a wonderful thing. I recently watched an interview with Steven Tyler, lead singer of the band Aerosmith. He and his therapist briefly mentioned "finding spirituality." They used the term "God shot" when referring to a circumstance when God intervened in Steven's latest attempt to overcome drug addiction.

Whatever you call the promptings of the Holy Spirit, becoming aware of them is more thrilling than magic to a child. The interesting thing about these promptings is that, the more aware we are of them, the more we follow them - and the more we follow them, the more aware we are of them. It's a wonderful cycle.

While raising our four boys, we set a cap of $60 on the amount spent on birthday gifts and stuck to it. In 1995, our son, Cory, desperately wanted a drum set for his 10th birthday. His teacher wrote on his report card that after repeatedly warning Cory to stop drumming on his desk, he took all Cory's writing implements away except one pencil.

By the end of the day, he heard him drumming again: Cory had broken the pencil in half.

We looked everywhere for a drum set but couldn't find anything decent for under $300. Our $60 budget wasn't even close. To mitigate his disappointment, my husband, Mike, and I decided to tell Cory he would not be receiving a drum set for his birthday. But no matter what we said, he didn't believe us. Cory was certain he was destined to be a drummer.

It was Friday morning, the day before Cory's birthday, and I was driving to meet our youngest son, who would be getting off the bus in a few minutes from kindergarten. I saw a garage sale sign and thought it was odd that someone would have a garage sale in the middle of May.

At the last minute, I pulled the car over. I ran up the driveway thinking, "What am I doing? I have to get home."

I quickly looked around. In the corner of the garage was a drum set with snare, base, hi-hat and tom-toms. Hanging from the shiny cymbals was a price tag reading $60.

I stood speechless, shaking my head at this tangible, better-than-magic "God shot."

Sometimes, when the little red pitchfork-holding guy attempts to download his "murky ideas" into my head, I politely inform him, "Excuse me, but you were not invited." I've noticed that whenever I succeed in turning away from the shade, I'm able to see the light of heavenly promptings - and the wonderful cycle continues.

Wherever you are today, thank you, Sister Mary Humilita!

(Mrs. Bonanno attends St. Mary's parish in Albany. Contact her at [email protected].)[[In-content Ad]]

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