Krishna, Santa Rosa and me

I am from here and elsewhere. I have a Peruvian grandmother, Paloma, a fervent Catholic and a Mauritian grandfather, Raj, a Hindu.

My parents, born in France, are agnostic… They raised me far from any religion. For a long time, I boasted about being an atheist, without really knowing what that meant. But throughout my adolescence, I felt bad about myself. Although I was a very good student until college, I diagnosed myself with social anxiety in middle school. I slept badly and had episodes of self-harm. At the start of high school, my mother noticed it. I started seeing a shrink who attributed my discomfort and depression to post-Covid disarray. Treatment and advice to give me a taste for life again did not change anything. Informed of my condition, my grandmother suggested prayer. My parents politely refused.

On the night of my 19th birthday, my mother baked a cake. While her cake was in the oven, Paloma called us via WhatsApp. In Lima, it was 6:30 in the morning. After wishing me a happy birthdays she confessed to me that half an hour earlier she had gone to light a candle for me in her local church. She had prayed to Saint Rose, the patron saint of the town, to watch over me. My mother grumbled: “Will Mom never stop with her religious nonsense?”

Then she took the cake out of the oven. As she was about to unmold it, my father pointed out that the heat crack was shaped like a cross. “You’re not going to do that, Vik!” my mother scolded him.

I had a revelation: this cross was a sign that my grandmother’s prayer had been answered. In turn, Raj called me on my birthday. When he heard about the incident, he told me laughingly that Krishna would not be offended if I interceded with this holy Rose to make me feel better.

I went to church and talked to the priest. I attended catechism and chose Rose as my baptismal name. Since then, I have been active in the parish and take care of welcoming foreigners. I sleep better, I am no longer anxious and I have never cut myself again. This summer, my mother (who now accompanies me to mass) and I will go to Peru for August 30, the day of Santa Rosa de Lima, to join Paloma. We will participate together in the pilgrimage in honor of the saint who gave me faith and allowed me to recover my health.