Dear Mary, your message of love and care on Tepeyac Hill floated like a lilting lullaby into the fresh golden dawn. Softly you called to Juan Diego, “least of your sons,” a man of middle years, but guileless and childlike in spirit.
Through him you invited all your children to come to you, the ever-virgin Mother of God, to look to you as a mother who wanted only to show a mother’s love. You would give them whatever they needed, help and protection, strength and comfort. As a lasting proof you left us your own marvelous picture, unpainted by any human hand.
Today we bring to you our child ( I bring __________ my) (as yet Unborn). May this little one always know and love you as holy Mary, Mother of the true God in whom we live and have our being. May this new soul, fresh breathed forth from the creator, giving life to the body, be like the soul of Juan Diego, simple, pure and good.
Dear Lady of Guadulupe, touch this petal of our hearts with the wintry roses of Tepeyac, so that a fragrant joy and peace may spread along its path of earthly life, reminding men of you and sweetly drawing them to your waiting heart.
Take this child as your own. Lady lovely and demure, enfolded in the mantle of your care, until the day when in a new land, all your children join with you, their merciful mother, endlessly giving praise and thanks to God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
(This prayer is suggested especially on the twelfth of every month.)