The Radical Choice of Saint Rose
It was the year 1598. She was just twelve years old—and already everyone was saying the same thing: she’s so beautiful. Her long hair shimmered in the light, her face seemed to glow, and suitors lined up even though she was still so young. For many, that kind of attention would feel like a dream. But to her, it felt like a trap.
The more people admired her, the more she wanted to hide. Until one day, she made a choice that shocked everyone. She cut off her long hair—snip, snip, the locks fell like a protest against vanity. Then she rubbed her face with pepper and lye, deliberately making herself less attractive. The sting burned, but she felt free. No longer chained to expectations, no longer boxed in by compliments.
And she went further. While other girls wore flower crowns for beauty, she made her own crown—woven not with roses but with sharp thorns. She placed it on her head and hid it under her veil. Every prick, every drop of pain, became her silent prayer, her way of saying: I want to love like Christ loved.
At an age when most girls were preparing for dances and dreaming of romance, she was preparing herself for silence, for prayer, for a love that no earthly admirer could match. She turned her small home into a hospital, cared for the poor, fasted, and prayed for hours.
People couldn’t understand. To them, she wasted her beauty. But to her, she offered it—like a flower laid at the feet of Christ.
Her name? Rose. Saint Rose of Lima. The first saint of the Americas.
Her feast is celebrated on August 23 in the universal Church, and on August 30 in Peru—reminding us that true beauty is not what fades on the outside, but the beauty inside that chooses love above all.
𝚃𝚢𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚕𝚞𝚎
𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚛.𝚌𝚘𝚖
