St. Salesman

My mother’s house wasn’t selling. No one was even looking at it; a total of four open houses had yielded less than a dozen people, most of them curious neighbors with no intention of buying. When she shared her troubles with co-workers at the hospital where she works, a fellow nurse directed her to obtain a miniature statue of St. Joseph, bury it in the back yard, and pray for him to sell the house. My mother’s not a religious person, but she figured she had nothing to lose.

St. Joseph is the Catholic patron saint of home and family, so it makes some sense that he would be the one you’d go to with real-estate troubles. As to who first decided to actually bury St. Joe in the yard, no one is sure. Some sources trace it back to 1896, in Montreal. One theory points to European nuns in the Middle Ages. All are certain, however, that the practice has been going on since at least the late 1980s.

My mother had no idea where to find a small statue of St. Joseph for burial purposes, but her co-worker directed her to St. Patrick’s Guild, a shop on Randolph and Snelling in St. Paul. My mother stopped in a couple of days later, a bit self-conscious, half-expecting the sales clerks to think her a total wacko and call the police.

Then she saw, right beside the cash register, a whole stack of St. Joseph Home Sale kits. “Can’t Sell Home?” the box goaded. “Ask St. Joseph… He’s Helped 1000’s! Faith Can Move Mountains… and Homes!!!” The house pictured on the box had a prominent “SOLD” sign in front of it. The kit was $6.95.

St. Patrick’s Guild sells around a thousand St. Joseph statues every year, the manager said. Some real-estate agents swear by St. Joe, returning every few months to buy a fresh supply of kits to hand out to clients. The store also sells larger, more expensive St. Joseph statues, but the manager couldn’t say how many might be used to sell houses.

Included in the kit is the prayer to offer St. Joseph, along with a tiny fact sheet debunking assorted superstitions that have become associated with the practice. You don’t have to bury the statue upside-down, for instance, and it doesn’t have to be located in any particular spot in the yard, or exactly twelve inches underground. That’s just silly. St. Joseph doesn’t care. What is important, notes the fact sheet, “is that the seller asks St. Joseph for his help, believes that he will intercede, and trusts him.”

My mother was skeptical, but the clerk told her the anecdotal evidence would fill a book. My mother studied the kit dubiously. “Does that mean I can ask for more on the house?”

The clerk’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t push it, lady.” My mom bought the kit. The house sold within days. —Katherine Glover