May Crowning Senior Court member Frances Rose Graziano '25 offered the following reflection at Woodlands' May Crowning Mass on May 2, 2025.


Good afternoon, my name is Frances Rose Graziano. I am honored to be standing up here today to crown the most important woman in my life. Today is about celebrating Mary, Mother of God — the young woman who said “yes.”

When I was younger, I saw Mary as the pretty face in the stained glass windows at church — the one I’d zone out and admire in awe during Mass. I thought of her as perfect — someone with magical powers who could fix anything if you just prayed hard enough.

Well, that perspective shifted a little when I was four years old.

That’s when my life changed a little bit — when I began a journey filled with surgeries, IVs, hospital beds, and a lot of questions. I spent most of my childhood in and out of hospitals, struggling with my health, constantly asking myself: Why me? Why wasn’t God listening? Why weren’t my prayers to Mary working?

But in all of those moments of confusion and fear, I was never alone. I always had five strong women by my side — my mom, my grandma, and my three older sisters: Maggie, Mary Kate, and Grace.

They were my nurses, my best friends, my guardian angels, and sometimes, just the quiet presence I needed. They held my hand when I was scared, advocated for me when I couldn’t speak, and never let me forget that I was loved.

My mom is the strongest and most faithful person I know. She’s the one who stayed up all night, who asked every question twice, who made sure my spirit stayed intact even when my body felt weak. She always knew how to cheer me up and how to solve all of my problems. She reminds me of Mary in just about all of her characteristics — she leads with love, makes sacrifices without complaint, and always believes without limits.

My grandma, who passed away last year, was a pillar of love and compassion in our family. She dedicated her life to helping others — volunteering with the Red Cross, working 12-hour shifts in the ICU, and always speaking up for what she believed in. She prayed quietly but fiercely, and I truly believe she never stopped asking Mary to watch over me. I still feel her presence, especially in moments like this — moments that feel sacred.

And my sisters — all older, but all so different, yet all teaching me in their own way what it means to be strong. They helped me find myself and become the person that I am today. They are my role models, my best friends, and some of the first people who ever taught me how to pray, how to fight, and how to keep going.

Over time, I began to understand that Mary wasn’t the kind of perfect that I once imagined. She was perfect in her "yes" — in her courage, in her trust, and in her willingness to walk into the unknown. She didn’t always get the answers she wanted. But she always believed.

At Woodlands, I’ve continued to learn what it means to say "yes" — to seek discomfort, to lead, to care for others, and to trust in something greater than myself. It’s a school that’s shaped not just my education, but my character. I’ve been surrounded by women who remind me of Mary’s strength, women who show up for each other in quiet, unseen ways. Women who would sacrifice leaving the beautiful city of Vienna to fly me home just because I was sick (shoutout to Ms. Schmidt!) — a woman who reminded me, in one of my most vulnerable moments, what compassion really looks like.

And of course, two girls I met in my freshman year, who quickly became sisters. Campbell Chesney and KJ Lee. Through every high and low, they’ve been by my side. They’ve helped me through every bump in the road and reminded me that joy is always achievable, even in the hardest moments. I’m beyond grateful to have grown up with them through these past four years.

As I prepare to graduate in just a few weeks and head off to Saint Mary’s College, I’m realizing more and more that Mary’s story is one I carry within my own. I used to think she was far away from who I was. But now I see her in the faces of the women who raised me, the girls I see in the hall, and I see her in myself — not because I’m perfect, but because I’ve learned how to say “yes” to the life God gave me, even when it’s hard.

Pope Francis, my role model in life, whom I am blessed to share a name with, passed away just weeks ago, but he showed us what devotion to Mary could look like. His life was shaped by compassion, humility, and a love for Mary that never wavered. Every time he traveled, he stopped first at the Basilica of Saint Mary Major to pray, entrusting every journey to her. Now, it’s where he’s buried — in the care of the woman he turned to for strength, again and again. His love for her is a reminder that even the Pope needed Mary. And so do we.

Today, I crown Mary not just as a tradition, but as an act of gratitude. Gratitude for the strength I’ve found through my struggles. Gratitude for the women in my life who reflect her love and courage. Gratitude for a faith that has carried me through the hardest parts of my life. I also have gratitude for Mary herself, who continues to show me that saying “yes” doesn’t require certainty. It only requires trust.

Thank you.