I recall reading somewhere that if an item that is blessed breaks or rips or is damaged in any other way, that it "loses" its blessedness and is no longer is a sacramental. Is there any truth to this?
Experience has shown me that this is not true. In the late 1940s my father was doing well in business. We had a lovely house with a wide landing. Dad had an 'altar' made of wood and pride of place went to a beautiful blessed statue of the Blessed Mary.
But then tragedy. You see the attic hatch was above the altar and my brothers and I used the altar to get up into the attic when daddy and mammy were not there. Now one day one of our dangling feet knock over the statue breaking off a cloak covered whole arm and shoulder into pieces. We decided to leave the statue on the ground broken hoping dad would think the statur fell by itself.
Now those were days before superglue or any such adhesives so in effect it was not repairable. Dad of course knew what happened but I forget whether he let it go or gave us a telling off or indeed a slap that was normal in those days.
So, there she was, Our Lady with no arm and shoulder, with a big cavity visible, not a pleasent sight. So it was decision time I thought, she has to go. I was thinking what would daddy do, would he put it in a bin, or maybe bury it in the garden. Given it was broken, its 'blessedness' no longer mattered, did it? Day after day it stood there, reminding all of our carelessness.
Now daddy was in the menswear business, a pioneer in that business mind you. He was the first to bring coloured men's shirts into Ireland and crowds used to stop outside his shop admiring the clothes in the window. It was through his contacts and knowledge of these things that solved the problem of the broken statue. One night he came home with a bag and asked all to watch as he placed a blue silk cape around Our Lady with a little cord at the top tied around her neck. It fitted beautifully and not a trace of her 'wounds' were to be seen. For years afterwards, we kids used to peek inside to see what it was hiding.
A great depression came and dad lost his business. It was up and down from then on and we moved house to suit the circumstances. But Our Lady and her silk blue cloak came everywhere with us. Dad died, mam went to live with a daughter and spent the last three years in a home. In her room was that now 70year-old statue, a reminder of so much. Her memory faided and she died at 99.9 years. My sister now houses Our Lady, with her original blue cloak of pure silk. Oh my, if only that statue could talk. Every time I see it it reminds me of Dad's devotion to Our Lady, so much so that a broken arm and shoulder did not deminish his love for her. When I think of him and that blessed statue he looked after all his married life I know she is now looking after him and his wife, my mother. The comfort this brings shows me the blessedness of that statue.