Why Mary Lives

Pete S.

Many years ago, when I was twelve years old, my father abruptly left our household due to a personal business matter, which ultimately led to the loss of our home. We struggled to survive, but my mother stepped in with incredible strength, taking a part-time job to provide for us.

During that time, I was even harassed by an IRS agent who would wait outside our home to question me about my father’s whereabouts. My mother would leave the garage door slightly open so I could quietly slip inside. The agents were often parked across the street, but I learned to move quickly and stay out of sight.

About a year and a half later, through a lawyer who was eventually disbarred for corruption, we learned where my father was. Shortly after, my mother, our dog, and I moved from New Jersey to West Palm Beach, Florida.

My father was working as a caddy master at PGA National Golf Club, earning $90 a week in cash. We lived in a boarding house alongside two violent alcoholics. Despite our circumstances, my mother enrolled me in Catholic school. Many mornings, she took me to Dunkin’ Donuts for breakfast, sometimes borrowing money just so I could eat, while she had only coffee.

After about a year and a half, my father was able to rent a small home. It wasn’t much, but my mother made it feel like one. Most nights, we ate simple meals like pasta fagioli.

Wanting to be close to my father, I began working at the golf course after school, cleaning carts and collecting balls. I earned $1.60 an hour, which felt like a fortune to a 12-year-old.

I also became an altar boy at Saint Clare Catholic Church. I was searching for God, for connection, for something to fill the loneliness I felt. I missed my sisters and friends back in New Jersey. Everything felt unfamiliar. Even the weather felt strange to me.

My teachers noticed my sadness. They told my parents I often looked like I was about to cry, staring out the window as if trying to see home beyond the horizon. I was struggling with depression, though I didn’t have the words for it at the time.

At home, things became more difficult. My father developed a drinking problem. One night, he came home drunk and became violent toward my mother. I remember hearing the argument, then the sound of a slap, followed by a thud. I ran out to see my mother hurt and sitting against the wall.

I tried to intervene, but my father pushed me aside. I felt completely helpless. I returned to my room, covering my ears, hoping it would stop. The next day, everything carried on as if nothing had happened. That silence became part of our reality.

A few years later, my father received a major promotion as a rules official on the PGA Tour. Our financial situation improved, and I felt proud of him. But once again, he was gone for long stretches, traveling for work.

Eventually, I was accepted into Delbarton School in New Jersey, a Benedictine boarding school. It was another deeply lonely chapter in my life. On weekends, I would sit on the steps of the Abbey Church, looking out over the landscape and asking God why all of this was happening to me.

In those quiet moments, I began to feel something I couldn’t fully explain. A presence. A reassurance that somehow, things would be okay, even when I didn’t understand how.

Over time, my father and I clashed again due to his drinking, even coming to blows at one point. Later, he experienced a spiritual awakening through the ministry of Oral Roberts, and we began to reconcile.

I eventually attended Oral Roberts University, where I explored different Christian traditions. During that time, I fell in love, got married, and had a child. But after seven years, our marriage ended due to differences in faith and financial struggles.

I returned to New Jersey with nothing, living with my sister Carol, who guided me back to the Catholic Church. I sought an annulment, recommitted my life to God, and began rebuilding from the ground up.

Later, I met Lydia, who would become my wife of 36 years. Together, we built a life and raised a family. I pursued a career in financial services, which I’ve remained in for decades.

But my struggles weren’t over. I battled alcoholism and became dependent on Xanax. Even after periods of recovery, I relapsed, especially after losing my father and later my sisters. Grief left me feeling deeply alone.

I eventually found my way to AA, where I began again, this time with humility. I took a job at a grocery store, earning $12 an hour, setting aside my pride and focusing on healing.

During this time, I formed meaningful friendships, including one with a man who became a mentor and father figure to me.

My faith deepened. I returned to the Church, became active in the Knights of Columbus, and eventually served as Grand Knight. I also began praying the Rosary daily after listening to teachings by Fulton J. Sheen, who spoke about the role of the Blessed Mother in leading us closer to Christ.

At first, I doubted I could commit to such a prayer. But I made it non-negotiable. Slowly, my life began to change.

I worried less. My insecurities eased. I began to trust God more deeply. I realized I had a purpose.

My family life improved. I became more compassionate and aware of others’ needs. I got involved in charitable work, supported seminarians, and helped organize community outreach efforts.

At the same time, I noticed something troubling. Fewer young people were turning to God, while more were struggling with addiction, depression, and a lack of direction. I saw a growing need for faith, hope, and connection.

That realization led me to create MaryLives.com.

If the Blessed Mother could help transform my life, I believed she could help others too. Through her intercession, we can grow closer to Jesus Christ. As I came to understand, Jesus listens to His mother.

Today, I know I am not alone. God is real. The Blessed Mother is real. And she is reaching out to all of us.

Our mission is simple: to help people discover the power of the Rosary, to deepen their faith, and to bring others closer to Christ.

If you’re reading this, perhaps she is reaching out to you as well.

“Here I am. I stand at the door and knock.” (Revelation 3:20)

Open the door. Begin the journey. Pray the Rosary.

And see what she can do in your life.