The king and queen no baby had;
They longed to be a mum and dad;
To pagan gods they prayed each day;
But still no baby came their way.
Then good advice was given them;
It proved to be a priceless gem;
Christians are what you should be;
Then a baby blessing;
You shall see!
When this was done;
The grace was granted;
And with little Philomena;
They were enchanted!
When little Philomena had reached twelve years;
Bad news filled up their eyes with tears;
On their country small and poor;
The emperor of Rome;
declared a war !
Let’s go to Rome;
The King told wife and daughter;
To plead with the emperor;
to prevent this slaughter.
At the mighty
They pleaded with him;
the war to abort.
The emperor had a new idea;
He said there’s nothing more to fear.
Give me your daughter;
To be my wife;
And I promise her;
A wonderful life!
The offer took them
A refusal would mean;
Their country’s demise.
The king and queen were filled with gladness;
But Philomena was overcome by sadness.
To be a bride of Christ;
She’d already taken a vow;
No way would Philomena;
Let it be broken now.
The answer was a steadfast no;
The emperor now his force would show!
To the dungeon Philomena was deployed;
All manner of torture was employed;
It was all to no avail;
The emperor’s methods were doomed to fail.
Because God Himself defended her soul;
Philomena kept her eyes on her heavenly goal.
The maiden Philomena;
Was strengthened by faith and grace;
Until the day she could behold;
God face to face.
Finally the maiden Philomena was beheaded;
And the onlookers wept;
For many centuries in the catacombs;
She silently slept.
At last her relics were located;
And the excavators were elated;
When Philomena’s relics,
Were bought up to the ground;
Miracles started to abound !
Some folks thought that miracles;
Had stopped with the Bible;
They had a revival.
The sneering cynics;
Who had announced God’s demise;
Were by Philomena’s miracles;
Dealt a surprise.
Saint Philomena’s fame;
And people ran to her;
Pleading in prayer.
No one was forgotten;
No one was left out;
And the needy;
All of them found;
Her miracles speedy.
From heaven she surveys;
All of our needs;
And on our behalf;
With God she pleads.
Say a prayer to Saint Philomena;
And light her a candle;
Because there is no problem;
That she cannot handle.
There’s one thing more;
We should not ignore;
From her grave of silent obscurity;
She has come back to teach us;
About goodness and purity.
by Mary Ann Matulis