Each stitch felt like a little prayer, and as I worked on Divine Mercy Scapular

The morning sun peeked through my window blinds today, and I felt a rush of accomplishment wash over me – after days of working on and off between household chores and preparing for my enrollment papers, I have finally finished the scapulars, all ready for the Lenten season’s sharing oil movement! I still can’t believe I pulled this off, especially since when I first started, I literally had no idea what to do with the thread in my hands.

It all started last week when our parish announced the upcoming Lenten activities, and one of the initiatives was to distribute handmade scapulars alongside blessed oil to members of our community who might not be able to make it to church regularly during this sacred time. As soon as I heard about it, something in my heart told me I had to be part of it. But here’s the thing – I’ve never been much of a seamstress. When I first laid out the fabric pieces, the small rolls of sturdy thread, and the pattern I’d printed out from the parish’s guide, I just stared at everything for a good ten minutes, completely stuck. I kept fumbling with the needle, tangling the thread more times than I can count, and I almost gave up right then and there, thinking maybe I should just donate some money instead of trying to make something with my own hands.

And then it hit me – my old talent for crocheting! I learned how to crochet when I was in high school, taught by my Lola who used to make beautiful doilies and blankets for our whole family. I haven’t picked up a hook in years, but suddenly I realized I could adapt those skills to make the scapulars more durable and personal. Instead of just sewing the fabric squares together, I decided to add a delicate crocheted border around each one – small shell stitches that teacher showed me how to do, the kind that always made her work look so intricate and special.

I worked on them whenever I had a spare moment – while waiting for water to boil for coffee in the morning, during my lunch break from helping out at my aunt’s sari-sari store, and even late at night when the house was quiet and I could focus without distractions. Each stitch felt like a little prayer, and as I worked, I found myself thinking about the meaning behind every part of the scapular – the colors representing purity and faith, the shape reminding us to carry our beliefs close to our hearts. In total, I made four pieces – one for me to wear throughout Lent, and three more for my closest friends.

Each scapular is a little different too, even though they follow the same basic design. As I held each finished piece in my hands earlier today, folding them carefully into small cotton pouches I’d saved from some gifts I received last Christmas, I felt such a warm feeling in my chest. I can’t wait to meet up with them this weekend to give these to them – I already imagined their faces lighting up when they see that I made something just for them.

On top of finishing the scapulars. The only thing left on my to-do list now is to flat iron my Divine Mercy t-shirt – the one I wear to all important church events and special occasions like this. It’s been folded up in my closet for a while, so it’s got some pretty stubborn wrinkles, but I’ll make sure it looks crisp. I want to start this new chapter of my life feeling grounded in my faith, and wearing that shirt always helps me feel centered and ready for whatever comes next.

As I write this, I can smell the dinner my mom is cooking – her famous adobo that always makes everything feel right in the world. Lent is a time of reflection, sacrifice, and sharing, and I feel like I’m already starting to embrace all of that. Making these scapulars reminded me that even when we feel unsure of ourselves, we all have something special to offer – sometimes we just need to look a little deeper to find what it is.

Untill Next Time,

Yuna