I’ll admit it—Texas heat in August doesn’t exactly make me think of snow. But every year on August 5th, we celebrate Our Lady of the Snows, and her story has always felt like a soft, cool breeze in the middle of the summer heat.
I had the good fortune of growing up in St. Louis, Missouri, which is just a short drive across the Mississippi River and the Our Lady of the Snows shrine in Belleville, Illinois. I have such fond memories of sitting on the hillside, attending outdoor Mass with my childhood best friend and her family.
The story of Our Lady of the Snows goes back to 4th century Rome, when a wealthy, childless couple wanted to leave their inheritance to the Blessed Mother. They prayed for a sign, asking for direction about the use of their money, and that night - both of them, in separate dreams - were visited by Mary. She told them to build a church in her honor… and that the place she desired would be revealed by snow.
Snow. In August. In Rome.
And yet… the next morning, August 5th, a patch of fresh snow was found covering the Esquiline Hill. Leaving a perfect outline for a new church.
Can you imagine? Waking up, walking outside, and seeing a crisp blanket of snow where the summer dust should be? There’s something so beautifully tender and almost playful about that miracle. I love that Mary didn’t just appear with a thunderclap or a bright light. She sent quiet snowflakes.
The church that was built still stands today: the Basilica of Saint Mary Major. It’s one of the oldest and most beloved Marian churches in the world. And every year, they still celebrate that snowfall with white petals falling from the ceiling during Mass.
I think the story of Our Lady of the Snows speaks to something many of us carry in our hearts: the desire for direction. For clear answers. For a sign. Maybe not snow in August- but something tangible and easy to understand. And Mary, being the gentle mother that she is, reminds us that God does provide… in His timing, and in His way.
Sometimes it’s a quiet nudge in prayer, or a conversation with a friend that turns the light on in your heart. And sometimes it's a quiet snowfall! But one thing is certain: Mary is always leading us somewhere. And that “somewhere” is always closer to her Son.
