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of God. Our Lord God can do everything. Elizabeth, the barren one, in her old age has conceived a son who will be the Prophet of Your Son, and will prepare His ways. The Lord has removed her disgrace and her memory will remain amongst peoples together with Your name, as the name of her creature will be joined to the name of Your Holy Son, and until the end of centuries you will be called blessed, because of the Lord's Grace which has come to you both and particularly to You, by means of Whom Grace has come to all peoples. Elizabeth is in her sixth month and her burden lifts her to joy, and will lift her even more when she hears of Your joy. Nothing is impossible to the Lord, Mary, full of Grace. What shall I tell my Lord? Let no thought whatsoever disturb You. He will protect Your interests if You trust in Him. The world, Heav­ en, the Eternal Father are awaiting Your word! » Mary crosses Her hands over Her breast and bowing down deeply, She says: «I am the handmaid of the Lord. Let what you have said be done to Me. » The Angel shines out of joy. He kneels in adoration because he certainly sees the Spirit of God descend upon the Virgin bent down in assent, and he disappears without moving the curtain, but leaves it well drawn over the holy Mystery. 17. The Disobedience of Eve and the Obedience of Mary. 5th March 1944. 1Jesus says: «[... ]. * Do we not read in Genesis** that God made man the overlord of everything on the earth, that is everything except God and His angelical ministers? Do we not read that He made the wo­ man the companion of man in his joy and his domination over all living beings? Do we not read that they were allowed to eat of everything with the exception of the tree of the knowledge of Good and Evil? Why? What is the meaning of the words “that he * [... ]. This sign will always indicate an omitted passage concerning a different subject. Such extracts can be found either in “The notebooks”, under the same date, or in different sections of this “work”. ** Do we not read in Genesis: 1-3. 10417. 1

might rule”? And what is the meaning of the tree of the knowl­ edge of Good and Evil? Have you ever asked these questions, you man, who ask so many useless ones and never ask your soul about heavenly truths? Your soul would tell you, if it were alive, be­ cause a soul in grace is held like a flower in the hands of your an­ gel, and like a flower it is kissed by the sun and sprinkled with dew by the Holy Spirit, Who warms and illuminates it, sprays and decorates it with heavenly lights. How many truths your soul would tell you, if you only knew how to converse with it, if you loved your soul that makes you like God, Who is a spirit, as your soul is a spirit. What a great friend you would have if you loved your soul instead of hating it to the (extent of killing it; what a great and sublime friend with whom you could talk of celestial matters, since you men are so eager to talk and you ruin one an­ other with friendships which, if they are not unworthy ones (as sometimes they are), they are almost always useless and they turn into a vain and damaging tumult of worldly words. Did I not say*: “If anyone loves Me he will keep My word, and My Father will love him, and we shall come to him and make Our home with him”? The soul in grace possesses love, and by pos­ sessing love it possesses God, that is the Father Who preserves it, the Son Who teaches it, the Spirit Who illuminates it. It therefore possesses Knowledge, Science, Wisdom, Light. Consider there­ fore what sublime conversations your soul could hold with you. Such conversations filled the silence of prisons, the silence of cells, the silence of hermitages, the silence of the rooms of holy sick people. Such conversations were the consolation of prisoners awaiting martyrdom, of cloistered monks and nuns searching for the Truth, of hermits longing for an advanced knowledge of God, of sick people in bearing, even more, in loving their crosses. 2If you knew how to question your soul, you would be told that the true, extensive meaning — as comprehensive as creation it­ self — of the words “that he might rule” is this: “That man might dominate everything, that is his three layers. The lower layer, the animal one. The middle layer, the moral one. The superior lay­ er, the spiritual one. And all three of them are to be directed to one sole aim: to possess God”. To possess Him by deserving Him * say: John 14: 23 (600. 27). 17. 2 105

17. 3 17. 4 17. 5through a strict control which subdues all the power of one's ego and conveys it to one only purpose: to deserve to possess God. Your soul would tell you that God had forbidden the knowledge of good and evil, because He had already granted good to His creatures gratuitously, and He did not want you to know evil, be­ cause it is a sweet fruit to taste, but once its juice becomes part of your blood, it causes a fever that kills you and produces a parch­ ing thirst, so that the more one drinks of that false juice, the more thirsty one becomes. 3You may object: “And why did He put it there? ” Because evil is a force that originated by itself like certain monstrous diseas­ es in the most wholesome body. Lucifer was an angel, the most beautiful of all the angels, a perfect spirit, inferior only to God, and yet in his bright essence a vapour of pride arose and he did not scatter it. On the contrary, he condensed it by brooding over it. And Evil was born of this in­ cubation. It existed before man. God had hurled him out of Para­ dise, the cursed incubator of Evil, who had desecrated Paradise. But he is the eternal incubator of Evil and as he can no longer soil Paradise, he has soiled the earth. 4That metaphorical tree proves this truth. God had said to the man and the woman: “You know all the laws and the mysteries of creation. But do not infringe on My right of being the Creator of man. My love will suffice for the propagation of the human race and it will spread among you and will excite the new Adams of the race without any lust of the senses but with purely charita­ ble pulsations. I have given you everything. I am only keeping for Myself this mystery of the formation of man”. 5Satan wanted to deprive man of this intellectual virginity and with his venomous tongue he blandished and caressed Eve's limbs and eyes, exciting reflections and a perspicacity which they did not have before, because malice had not yet intoxicated them. She “saw”. And seeing, she wanted to try. Her flesh was aroused. Oh! If she had called to God! If she had hurried to Him saying: “Father! I am sick. The Serpent has caressed me and I am upset”. The Father would have purified and healed her with His breath, which could have infused new innocence into her as it had infused life. And it would have made her forget the snake's poison, even more it would have filled her with a disgust for the 106

Serpent, as it happens in those who bear an instinctive dislike for diseases of which they have just been cured. But Eve does not go to the Father. Eve goes back to the Serpent. The sensation is a sweet one for her. “Seeing that the fruit of the tree was good to eat and pleasing and agreeable to the eye, she took it and ate it”. And “she understood”. Now Malice was inside her and was gnawing at her intestines. She saw with new eyes and heard with new ears the habits and voices of beasts. And she craved for them with insane greed. 6She began the sin by herself. She accomplished it with her 17. 6 companion. That is why a heavier sentence is laid on woman. Be­ cause of her, man has become rebellious towards God and has become acquainted with lewdness and death. Because of her, he was no longer capable of dominating his three reigns: the reign of the spirit, because he allowed the spirit to disobey God; the mor­ al reign, because he allowed passions to master him; the reign of the flesh, because he lowered it down to the instinctive level of beasts. “The Serpent seduced me” says Eve. “The woman offered me the fruit and I ate of it” says Adam. And the triple greed has ruled the three dominions since then. 7Only Grace can relax the hold of this ruthless monster. And 17. 7 if Grace is alive, thoroughly alive, and kept more and more alive by the goodwill of a faithful son, it will succeed in strangling the monster and will no longer have anything to fear. It will not be afraid of internal tyrants, which are the flesh and passions; nei­ ther will it be afraid of external tyrants, these are the world and the mighty ones on the earth. It will dread neither persecutions nor death. It is as Paul the Apostle says*: “I fear none of these things, neither do I care for my life more than I care for myself, provided I carry out the mission and the ministry the Lord Jesus gave me, and that was to bear witness to the Good News of God's Grace”. [... ]». 8th March 1944. 8Mary says: 17. 8 «I obeyed in My joy, because when I understood the mission * Paul the Apostle says in: Acts 20: 24. 107

to which God called Me, I was full of joy, My heart opened like a closed lily and it shed that blood which was to become the soil for the Lord's Seed. 9The joy of being a mother. I had consecrated Myself to God since My childhood, because the light of the Most High had shown Me the cause of evil in the world and, as far as it was in My power, I wanted to remove from Myself every trace of Satan. I did not know I was pure. I could not think I was. That simple thought would have been presumption and pride, because, since I was born of human parents, it was not right for Me to think that I was the Chosen One to be the Faultless One. The Spirit of God had informed Me of the pain of the Father because of the corrup­ tion of Eve, who had lowered herself to the level of inferior crea­ tures, whereas she was a creature of grace. It was My intention to soothe that pain by remaining unprofaned by human thoughts, wishes and contacts and thus restoring an angelical purity in My body. The palpitations of My heart were to be only for Him, and only for Him My whole being. But if there was no passion of the flesh in Me, there was still the sacrifice of not being a mother. Also Eve had been granted by the Father Creator the gift of maternity, a maternity devoid of what now degrades it. The sweet and pure maternity without a sensual burden! I experienced it! Of how much did Eve divest herself by giving up such wealth! More than immortality. And do not think that I am exaggerating. My Jesus and I, His Mother, with Him, have experienced the languor of death. I, the sweet languor of a tired person who falls asleep, Jesus, the intense lan­ guor of who dies sentenced to death. So we also experienced death. But only I, the new Eve, experienced maternity without any kind of profanation, that I might tell the world how sweet was the destiny of woman called to be a mother without any bod­ ily pain. And the desire of such pure maternity was possible and actually existed in the Virgin wholly devoted to God, because that maternity is the glory of woman. If you consider in what high esteem the Israelites held a moth­ er, you will realise even more what sacrifice I had made when I consecrated Myself to virginity. Now the Eternal Good Father granted Me, His servant, this gift, without divesting Me of the 10817. 9

purity I had wrapped Myself in to be a flower on His throne. And I rejoiced with the double joy of being the mother of a man and the Mother of God. 10The joy of being the Woman by means of Whom peace was re-established between Heaven and earth. Oh! What a joy to have desired this peace for the sake of God and of men and to know that it was coming to the world through Me, the poor handmaid of the Almighty! What a joy to say: “Men, do not cry any longer. I have in Me the secret that will make you happy. I cannot tell what it is because it is sealed in Me, in My heart, just as the Son is enclosed in My pure womb. But I am al­ ready bringing it to you, and the moment when you will see Him and hear His Holy name is getting nearer and nearer”. 11The joy of having made God happy: the joy of the believer for his God made happy. Oh! The joy of removing from God's heart the bitterness of Eve's disobedience, pride and disbelief! My Jesus explained the fault with which the first Couple got stained. I redeemed that sin by going up the same levels that they had descended. 12Disobedience was the beginning of the downfall: “Do not eat and do not touch of that tree” said God. And man and woman did not respect that prohibition, although as kings of creation they were allowed to touch and eat of everything except of that tree, because God wanted them to be inferior only to angels. The tree: the means to test their obedience. What does obedi­ ence to God's commands imply? It implies all possible good, be­ cause God commands nothing but good. What is disobedience? It is evil, because it brings about a rebellious mental state in which Satan can be active. Eve goes toward the tree, which, if avoided, would have caused her welfare, if approached, would cause her ruin. She goes there led by the childish curiosity of seeing what is special about it, and by a rashness that makes her consider God's command a use­ less one since she is strong and pure, the queen of Eden, where everything is subject to her and nothing can hurt her. Her pre­ sumption is her ruin. Presumption is the yeast of pride. At the tree she finds the Seducer, who sings his song of lies to her inexperience, to her beautiful virginal inexperience, to her17. 10 17. 11 17. 12 109

17. 13badly guarded inexperience. “You think there is evil here? No, there isn't. God told you because He wants to keep you as slaves under His power. You think you are king and queen? You are not even as free as wild animals. Animals can love one another with true love. You cannot. Animals are granted the gift of being crea­ tors like God. Animals generate little ones and see their families grow as much as they like. You do not. You are denied this joy. Why make you man and woman if you have to live thus? Be gods. You do not know the joy of being two in one flesh, that creates a third one and many more. Do not believe God when He promised you the joy of posterity seeing your children forming new fami­ lies, leaving their father and mother for their families. He has given you a sham life: real life is to know the laws of life. Then you will be like gods and will be able to say to God: 'We are all equal'”. And the allurement continued because there was no will to break it, on the contrary there was the will to continue it and to learn what did not belong to man. And the forbidden tree be­ comes really mortal for the human race because from its branch­ es there hangs the fruit of bitter knowledge that comes from Sa­ tan. And the woman becomes a female and with the yeast of Sa­ tanic knowledge in her heart, she moves on to corrupt Adam. With their bodies and souls degraded and their morals corrupt­ ed, they became acquainted with sorrow and the death of both their souls deprived of Grace and of their bodies divested of im­ mortality. And Eve's wound engendered suffering, which will not subside until the last couple on earth are dead. 13I went along the road of the two sinners, but in the oppo­ site direction: I obeyed. I obeyed in every way. God inspired Me to be a virgin. I obeyed. When I loved virginity that made Me as pure as the first woman before she met Satan, God asked Me to get married. I obeyed, elevating marriage to the degree of purity intended by God when He created the First Parents. I was then convinced that My destiny was solitude in marriage and the con­ tempt of people because of My holy sterility, when God asked Me to be a Mother. I obeyed. I believed that it was possible and that the word came from God, because I was filled with peace when I heard it. I did not think: “I deserved it”. I did not say: “Now the world will admire Me, because I am like God, creating the flesh 110

of God”. No, I did not. I lowered Myself in My humbleness. Joy gushed out of My heart like the stem of a rose. But it was soon decorated with sharp thorns and it was clenched in the tan­ gle of sorrow, like branches enveloped by bindweeds. Sorrow for the pain of My spouse: it suffocated My joy. Sorrow for the pain of My Son: a thorn that pierced My joy. Eve wanted pleasure, triumph, freedom. I accepted sorrow, humiliation, slavery. I gave up My peaceful life, the esteem of My spouse, My own freedom. I kept nothing for Myself. I became the maid of God in the flesh, in morals, in the spirit, relying on Him not only for the virginal conception, but also for the protection of My honour, for the consolation of My spouse, for the means suita­ ble to elevate him also to the sublimation of marriage, so that we could restore man and woman to their lost dignity. 14I embraced the will of the Lord for Myself, My spouse and My Creature. I said “Yes” for the whole three, as I was certain that God would not break His promise to assist Me in My sorrow of a spouse who realises she is considered guilty, and of a mother who knows she is generating a Son to deliver Him to sorrow. I said “Yes” and nothing else. That “Yes” cancelled Eve's “No” to God's command. “Yes, My Lord, as You wish. I will know what You want Me to know. I will live as You want Me to live. I will rejoice if You wish so. I will suffer for what You want Me to suf­ fer. Yes, forever, My Lord, from the moment Your ray made Me a Mother to the moment You called Me back to You. 'Yes', forever 'Yes'. All the good voices of the flesh, all the good passions of the spirit were under the weight of My perpetual 'Yes'. And above, on a diamond pedestal, there was My spirit, lacking wings to fly to You, but it was the master of the whole 'ego' subdued and made Your servant. Servant in joy, servant in sorrow. But smile, o God. And be happy. Guilt has been defeated. It has been removed and destroyed. It lies under My heel, it was washed in My tears and de­ stroyed by My obedience. The new Tree will be born of My bosom and it will bear the Fruit that knows all the evil because It suf­ fered it all in Itself and will give all the good. All men will be able to come to It and I shall be happy if they take of It, even if they do not remember that It was born of Me. Providing man is saved and God is loved, let it be done to His handmaid what is done to a clod of earth on which a tree is planted: a step to ascend”. 17. 14 111

17. 15 17. 16 17. 1715Mary, we must always be steps so that other people may as­ cend to God. It does not matter if they tread on us, providing they are successful in reaching the Cross. It is the new tree that has the knowledge, of Good and Evil, because it tells man what is good and what is evil, so that he may choose and live, and at the same time it is a medicine that cures those who are intoxicated by the evil they wanted to taste. Let our hearts be under the feet of men, that the number of the redeemed may increase and the Blood of My Jesus not be shed fruitlessly. That is the destiny of the maids of God. But then we deserve to receive the holy Host in our hearts and to say at the foot of the Cross drenched with His Blood and our tears: “Here is, o Father, the immaculate Host which we offer to You for the salvation of the world. Look at us, Father, melted with It and give us Your blessing for Its infinite merits”. And I give you My caresses. Rest now, My dear daughter. The Lord is with you. » 16Jesus says: «My Mother's words should disperse all perplexity of thought also in the minds most confused and muddled by pseudo science. [... ]. I said: “metaphorical tree”. Now I will say: “symbolic tree”. Perhaps you will understand better. Its symbol is clear: the in­ clination to good and to evil of the two children of God would be understood by their behaviour towards the tree. Like 'aqua regia' that tests gold and the scales of the goldsmith that weigh its car­ ats, that tree, by God's command, became a means of testing and it gave the measure of Adam's and Eve's symbolic metal purity. 17I can already hear your objection: “Was the punishment not excessive and the means used to condemn them not childish? ” Not so. Actual disobedience in you, who are their heirs, is not so grave as if it were in them. You have been redeemed by Me. But Satan's poison is always ready to rise again, like certain diseases that never disappear completely in the blood. The First Parents possessed Grace without ever even nearing Disgrace. They were therefore stronger and more firmly supported by Grace that gen­ erated love and innocence. The gift given them by God was in­ finite. Much graver is therefore their fall notwithstanding that gift. 112

18Also the fruit that was offered and eaten was symbolic. It was the fruit of an experience they wanted to have at Satan's in­ stigation to break God's command. I had not forbidden men love. I only wanted them to love each other without malice; as I loved them in My holiness, they were to love each other in the holiness of affections unsoiled by lewdness. 19It must not be forgotten that Grace is light, and whoever pos­ sesses it knows what is good and useful to know. Mary, Full of Grace, knew everything, because Wisdom taught Her, Wisdom that is Grace, and She knew how to live in a holy way. Also Eve knew what was good for her to know. But not more, because it is useless to know what is not good. But she did not have faith in God's word, and was not faithful to her promise of obedience. She believed in Satan, she broke her promise, she wanted to know what was not good, she loved it without regret, she turned love into something corrupt and degraded, which I instead had permitted as something holy. A sullied angel, she wallowed in mud and litter, whereas she could have run happily amongst the flowers of the earthly Paradise and she could have seen her off­ spring flourish around her, like a plant that is covered with flow­ ers without bending its leaves into the mire. 20Do not be like the foolish children mentioned by Me in the Gospel*; they heard other children sing and they plugged their ears, they heard them play the pipes and they did not dance, they heard them weep and they wanted to laugh. Do not be nar­ row-minded, do not be deniers. Accept the Light without mal­ ice and stubbornness, without irony and disbelief. Enough said about that. 21To make you understand how grateful you must be to Him Who died to raise you to Heaven and to defeat Satan's concu­ piscence, I wanted to speak to you, in this period of preparation for Easter, of what was the first link of the chain by which the Word of the Father was dragged to death, the Divine Lamb to the slaughterhouse. I wanted to speak to you about it, because at pre­ sent ninety per cent of you are like Eve intoxicated by Lucifer's breath and words, and you do not live, to love one another, but to glut yourselves with sensuality, you do not live for Heaven but for * Gospel, Matthew 11: 16-17-, Luke 7: 31-32 (266. 12). 17. 18 17. 19 17. 20 17. 21 113

18. 1filth, you are no longer creatures gifted with soul and reason, but dogs without soul and without reason. You have killed your souls and perverted your reason. I solemnly tell you that brutes sur­ pass you in the honesty of their love. » 18. Mary announces the maternity of Elizabeth to Joseph and entrusts God with the task of justifying Hers. 25th March 1944. 1The little house of Nazareth appears to me with Mary in it. Mary, a young girl, as when the Angel of God appeared to Her. This simple sight fills my soul with the virginal perfume of the house. The scent still remains in the room where the Angel gen­ tly waved his golden wings. That divine perfume was all con­ centrated on Mary to make a mother of Her and it now emanates from Her. It is evening, because shadows begin to invade the room into which so much heavenly light had descended. Mary is kneeling near Her little bed and is praying with Her arms crossed over Her breast and Her face bowed down very low. She is still dressed as She was at the moment of the Annuncia­ tion. Everything is exactly as it was then. The flowery branch is in its vase, the furniture in the same position. Only the distaff and the spindle are now leaning in a corner, the former with its flax, the latter with its bright thread wrapped around it. Mary stops praying and stands up, Her face is flushed as if it were lit up by a flame. Her lips are smiling, but Her eyes are shining with tears. She takes the oil lamp and lights it with a flint. She checks that everything is in good order in the room. She straightens up the blanket on the bed as it had been dis­ placed. She adds some water to the vase containing the flowery branch and She places it outside, in the cool of the night. She then comes back in. She takes the folded embroidery from the book­ case and the lamp and goes out closing the door. She takes a few steps in the little kitchen garden, along the side of the house and then goes into the little room where I saw* the parting goodbye * I saw : vision received previously. It is to be noted that M. V. did not “see” accord­ ing to the flow of the narration. She wrote what she saw at the moment and then 114

of Jesus and Mary. I recognise it although some pieces of furni­ ture which were there previously are now missing. Mary disappears into another small adjoining room, taking the lamp with Her, and I am left alone in the company of the em­ broidery work laid on the corner of the table. I can hear Mary's light steps moving to and fro, She then makes a noise with water as if She were washing something. Then there is the noise of bro­ ken sticks and I understand that She is lighting the fire. Then She comes back and goes into the little garden. She comes in once again with some apples and vegetables. She puts the apples on the table, on an engraved metal tray, possibly made of copper. She goes back into the kitchen, (the kitchen is definite­ ly over there). Now the flames of the fireplace are merrily cast­ ing light through the open door into this room and make dancing shadows on the wall. Some time goes by and Mary comes in with a small brown loaf and a bowl of hot milk. She sits down and dips some small slices of bread into the milk. She eats them slowly. Then leaving half of the bowl of milk, She goes into the kitchen and comes back with the vegetables on which She pours some oil and She eats them with the bread. She quenches Her thirst with the milk. She then takes an apple and eats it. The meal of a little girl. Mary eats and thinks and She smiles at some inner thought. She looks up and all around the walls and seems to be telling them a secret. Now and again, She turns serious, almost sad. But soon Her smile is back on Her lips again. 2There is a knocking at the door. Mary gets up and opens it. Jo­ 18. 2 seph comes in. They greet each other. Then Joseph sits on a stool in front of Mary, on the opposite side of the table. Joseph is a handsome man in the prime of life. He must be thirty-five years old at the most. His face is framed by his dark brown hair and a beard of the same colour and his eyes are very sweet and very dark, almost black. His forehead is large and smooth, his nose thin and slightly aquiline, his cheeks are round­ ish of a brown hue, but not olive-coloured, on the contrary they are rosy near the cheek-bones. He is not very tall, but he is strong and well built. she was instructed by Jesus how to organize her “work”. The vision mentioned here will be found in chapter 44. 115

18. 3 18. 4Before sitting down he has taken off his mantle and it is the first I have seen of its kind, because it is a full circle. It is held close at the neck by a kind of hook and it has a hood. The colour is light brown and it seems to be made of a cloth of coarse water­ proof wool. It looks like the mantle of a mountaineer suitable to shelter from inclement weather. 3Also before sitting down he offers Mary two eggs and a bunch of grapes, somewhat withered, but well preserved. And he smiles saying: «The grapes were brought to me from Cana. I was given the eggs by a Centurion for some repair work I did to his cart. A wheel was broken and their carpenter is ill. They are freshly laid. He took them from the hen house. Drink them. They will do You good. » «Tomorrow Joseph. I have just finished My meal. » «But You can take the grapes. They are good, as sweet as hon­ ey. I carried them very carefully, so that they would not get ru­ ined. Eat them. There are plenty more. I'll bring them tomorrow in a little basket. I couldn't this evening, because I came straight from the Centurion's house. » «Well, then, you have not had any supper yet. » «No, I haven't, but it does not matter. » Mary gets up at once and goes into the kitchen and She comes back with some milk, some olives and cheese. «I have nothing else» She says. «Take an egg. » But Joseph does not want it. The eggs are for Mary. He eats with relish his bread and the cheese and he drinks the luke warm milk. He then accepts an apple. And his supper is over. Mary takes Her embroidery after cleaning the table and Jo­ seph helps Her and he remains in the kitchen even when She comes back here. I can hear him putting things away. He pokes the fire because it is a cool evening. When he comes in, Mary thanks him. 4They speak to each other. Joseph tells Her how he spent the day. He talks of his little nephews and he takes an interest in Mary's work and in Her flowers. He promises to bring Her some beautiful flowers which the Centurion has promised him. «They are flowers we haven't got here. They were brought from Rome. And he promised me some little plants. Now, when the moon is in the right quarter I will plant them for You. They have lovely 116

colours and a beautiful scent. I saw them last year, because they bloom in summer. They will scent the whole house for You. Then I will prune the trees when the moon is right. It is time. » Mary smiles and thanks him. Then there is silence. Joseph looks at Mary's fair head bowed over Her embroidery. A look of angelical love. Certainly, if an angel were to love a woman with the love of a husband, he would look at her in this way. 5Then Mary, as if She were taking a sudden decision, lays the 18. 5 embroidery on Her lap and says: «I also have something to tell you. I never have anything to say, because you know how with­ drawn I live. But today I have some news. I heard that our rela­ tive Elizabeth, Zacharias' wife, is about to have a child... » Joseph opens his eyes wide and exclaims: «At her age? » «At her age» replies Mary smiling. «The Lord can do every­ thing, and now He is giving this joy to our relative. » «How do you know? Is the news certain? » «A messenger came. One who would not tell lies. I would like to go to Elizabeth's, to help her and tell her that I am rejoicing with her. If you will allow Me... » «Mary, You are my lady and I Your servant. Whatever You do is well done. When would You like to go? » «As soon as possible. But I shall be away for some months. » «And I will count the days waiting for You. Go and don't wor­ ry. I will look after the house and Your little garden. You will find the flowers as beautiful as if You had taken care of them. But... wait. Before Passover I must go to Jerusalem to buy some things for my work. If You can wait for a few days, I will come with You as far as Jerusalem. I can't go any farther, because I must hurry back. But we can go there together. I will be happier if I know that You are not on the road by Yourself. When You want to come back, You can let me know and I will come and meet You. » «You are so good, Joseph. May the Lord reward you with His blessings and keep sorrow away from you. I always pray to Him for that. » 6The chaste couple smile at each other angelically. There is si­ 18. 6 lence again for a little while. Then Joseph gets up. He puts his mantle on and he covers his head with the hood. He says goodbye to Mary Who has also got up, and he goes out. 117

18. 7 18. 8Mary looks at him going out and She sighs rather sadly. She then lifts Her eyes to Heaven. She is certainly praying. She closes the door carefully. She folds the embroidery. She goes into the kitchen, puts out or covers up the fire. She makes sure that eve­ rything is in order. She then takes the oil lamp and goes out clos­ ing the door. With Her hand She shields the feeble flame that flickers in the cool evening breeze... She enters Her room and prays once again. The vision ends thus. 7Mary says: «My dear daughter, when I came back to the reality of earthly life after the ecstasy that had filled Me with inexpressible joy, My first thought was for Joseph: a thought as sharp as a rose thorn, that pierced My heart enraptured among the roses of Divine Love, Who had become My Spouse only a few moments before. By this time I loved My holy and provident guardian. Since the time when by the will of God, manifested to Me by the word of the Priest, I was married to Joseph, I had the possibility of knowing and appreciating the holiness of that Just man. When I became united to him, My dismay at being an orphan disap­ peared and I no longer regretted the lost retreat of the Temple. He was as sweet as My deceased father. With him I felt as safe as with the Priest. All perplexity had disappeared, it had even been forgotten, so far it was from My virginal heart. I had in fact un­ derstood that there was no reason whatsoever for hesitation or fear with regard to Joseph. My virginity entrusted to Joseph was safer than a child in his mother's arms. 8But now, how could I tell him that I was a Mother? I endeav­ oured to find suitable words to give him the news. A difficult task, as I did not want to boast of God's gift and on the other hand there was no way of justifying My maternity without say­ ing: “The Lord has loved Me amongst all women and has made Me, His servant, His Bride”. Neither did I wish to deceive him by concealing My condition from him. And while I was praying, the Spirit of Whom I was full, said to Me: “Be silent. Entrust Me with the task of justifying You with Your spouse”. When? How? I did not ask. I had always relied upon God, and I had always allowed Myself to be led by Him exactly 118

as a flower is led away by running water. The Eternal Father had never abandoned Me without His help. His hand had always sup­ ported, protected and guided Me so far. It would do so also now. 9O My daughter, how beautiful and comforting is faith in our Eternal Good God! He holds us in His arms as in a cradle, like a boat He steers us into the bright harbour of Goodness, He warms our hearts, comforts and nourishes us, He bestows rest and hap­ piness, light and guidance on us. Reliance in God is everything, and God grants everything to those who trust in Him: He gives Himself. That evening I elevated to perfection My reliance as a crea­ ture. Now I was able to do so, because God was in Me. Before I had the confidence of a poor creature, such as I was: a mere nothing, even if I was so much loved as to be the Faultless One. But now I had a divine confidence, because God was Mine: My Spouse, My Son! Oh! What a joy! To be One with God. Not for My own glory, but to love Him with a total union and say to Him: “You, only You are in Me: please assist Me with Your Divine per­ fection in everything I do”. If He had not said to Me: “Be silent!”, I would probably have dared say to Joseph, with My face bowed to the ground: “The Spirit has penetrated Me and now the Embryo of God is in Me”, and he would have believed Me, because he held Me in high es­ teem and because like those who never lie, he could not believe that others lied. Yes, to avoid hurting his feelings in the future, I would have overcome My reluctance to praise Myself. But I obeyed the divine command. And for months after that moment, I felt the first wound pierce My heart. It was the first pain in My destiny of Co-Redeemer. I offered and suffered it to repair and to give you guidance for similar cir­ cumstances in life, when it is necessary to suffer in silence for an event that casts a bad light on you in relation to those who love you. 10Entrust God with the protection of your reputation and af­ fections. If you deserve God's protection with a holy life, you can proceed safely. Even if the whole world is against you, He will defend you with regard to those who love you and will cause the truth to be known. Now rest, My dear, and be more and more My dear daughter. »18. 9 18. 10 119

19. 1 19. 219. Mary and Joseph towards Jerusalem. 27th March 1944. 1I see their departure to go to St. Elizabeth's. Joseph has come with two little donkeys to fetch Mary: one for himself, the other for Mary: one of the little animals has the usual saddle with a strange gadget attached to it. Later I gather that it is a kind of luggage-rack on which Joseph fastens a small wooden casket, a small trunk we would call it nowadays, which he brought for Mary's clothes, to prevent them from getting wet. I hear Mary thank Joseph wholeheartedly for the provident gift, in which She packs what She takes out of a bundle She had made up previously. 2They close the door of the house and start off. It is daybreak, for I can see the rosy dawn in the east. Nazareth is still asleep. The two early travellers meet only a shepherd who is pushing forward his sheep, which are trotting along, one against the oth­ er, jammed in close flock. They are all bleating. The little lambs with their shrill sharp voices bleat more than the others, and want their mothers' breasts even while moving. But the mothers are hurrying towards the pastures and with their louder bleat­ ings they urge the little ones to follow them. Mary looks and smiles and since She has stopped to let the herd go by, She bends on the saddle and caresses the mild lit­ tle beasts that pass near Her donkey. When the shepherd ar­ rives carrying a newly-born little lamb in his arms and he stops to speak to Mary, She smiles and caresses the pinkish little face of the lamb, that is bleating desperately and She exclaims: «It's looking for its mother. Here is your mother. She won't leave you, of course she won't, little lamb. » In fact the ewe rubs herself against the shepherd, then stands up on her hind legs and licks the face of her little one. The herd passes by making the noise of water drops falling on leaves. Behind it there is the dust raised by the trotting feet of the sheep and the patterns of their footprints on the dusty road. Joseph and Mary take to the road again. Joseph is wearing his large mantle, Mary has on a kind of a striped shawl, because it is a very cool morning. They are now in the country and they are proceeding one be- 120

side the other. They seldom speak. Joseph is thinking of his busi­ ness, Mary is following Her own thoughts and in Her concentra­ tion She smiles at them. At times She looks around and smiles at the things She sees. Now and again She looks at Joseph and then an expression of sad seriousness darkens Her face; then She smiles again, still looking at Her provident spouse who speaks so little and when he does speak it is only to ask Her whether She is comfortable and whether She needs anything. 3By now there are many people on the road, particularly near and inside villages. But Mary and Joseph do not pay much atten­ tion to the people they meet. They proceed on their trotting don­ keys, in the midst of the noise of the harness bells, and they stop only once in the shade of a thicket, to eat some bread and olives and to drink at a spring that runs down from a grotto. They stop later to take shelter from a sudden heavy downpour from a very dark cloud. They have taken cover under the mountain, against a protrud­ ing rock that protects them from most of the heavy rain. Joseph wants Mary to put on his big mantle, which is waterproof and he insists so much that Mary is obliged to yield to the insistence of Her spouse, who to reassure Her of his own immunity, covers his head and shoulders with a small grey blanket which was on the saddle. Probably the donkey's blanket. Now Mary looks like a little monk, with Her face framed by the hood and the mantle closed around Her neck and covering all Her body. The shower slackens and turns into a tedious drizzling rain. Mary and Joseph start off again along a muddy road. But it is springtime and after a short while the sun makes the journey more comfortable. Also the two little donkeys are now trotting more happily along the road. I do not see anything else because the vision ends here. 20. The departure from Jerusalem. The heavenly aspect of Mary. The importance of prayer for Mary and Joseph. 28th March 1944. 4We are in Jerusalem. I know the town very well now, with its streets and gates. 19. 3 20. 1 121

20. 2 20. 3The first thing Mary and Joseph do is to go to the Temple. I recognise the stable where Joseph left his donkey on the day of Jesus' presentation in the Temple. Also now he leaves the two donkeys there, after feeding them, and then he goes with Mary to worship the Lord. When they come out, they enter a house which apparently be­ longs to people they know. They take some refreshment there and Mary rests until Joseph comes back with a little old man. «This man is going Your way. You will not have to travel a long way by Yourself to get to Your relatives. You can trust him because I know him. » 2They get on their donkeys again and Joseph goes with Mary as far as the Gate (it is not the one they entered but a different one) and they part there. Mary proceeds with the little old man who is as chatty as Joseph was silent and takes an interest in many things. Mary answers him patiently. In front of the saddle She now has the little trunk which Joseph's donkey had carried earlier and She is no longer wearing the large mantle. Neither is she wearing the shawl, which is folded on the trunk, and She is really beautiful in Her dark blue dress and white veil that pro­ tects Her from the sun. How beautiful She is! The old man must be somewhat deaf, because Mary, Who nor­ mally speaks in a very low voice, had to speak loudly to make Herself heard. And now he is tired. He has finished with all his questions and news and is dozing on the saddle, led by the don­ key that is familiar with the road. Mary takes advantage of this respite to collect Her thoughts and to pray. It must be a prayer that She sings in a low voice, look­ ing at the blue sky, with Her arms crossed over Her breast, while Her face is bright and happy because of some internal emotion. I see nothing else. 3And even now that the vision is interrupted, as it happened yesterday, I am left with Mother near me, visible to my inter­ nal sight so clearly that I can describe the light rosy hue of Her cheeks, not very chubby but gently soft, the bright red of Her little lips and Her clear blue eyes sweetly shining between Her dark-blond eyelashes. I can tell you how Her hair, separated in half on the crown of 122

Her head, falls softly with three undulations on each side, as far down as to cover half of Her little rosy ears, and then disappears with its pale shiny gold behind the veil covering Her head (be­ cause I see Her with Her mantle over Her head, wearing a dress of heavenly silk and a dark mantle, as thin as a veil, of the same cloth as the dress). I can tell you that Her dress is tight around Her neck by means of a sheathing inside which runs a cord, the ends of which form a knot in front at the base of Her neck. Likewise, Her dress is gath­ ered at Her waist by a thicker cord, also of white silk, hanging down Her side with two tassels. I can even tell you that Her dress, tight as it is at Her neck and waist, forms seven round soft folds on Her breast, the only orna­ ment of Her very modest garment. I can tell you of the chastity emanating from all of Her, from Her so delicate and harmonious forms, which make Her such an angelical woman. 4And the more I look at Her the more I suffer thinking of how much they made Her suffer and I wonder how they could have had no mercy on Her, so meek and kind, so delicate also in Her physical appearance. I look at Her and I can hear once again all the shouting on Calvary, also against Her, all the mockery and insults, all the curses shouted against Her because She was the Mother of the Convict. Now I see Her beautiful and tranquil. But Her present appearance does not cancel the memory of Her tragi­ cal face during those hours of agony, or that of Her desolate face in the house in Jerusalem, after Jesus' death. And I would like to be able to caress and kiss Her cheek, so delicately rosy and soft, to remove with my kiss that memory of sad tears, as She certain­ ly remembers as I do. 5You cannot believe how much peace it gives me to have Her near me. I think that to die seeing Her must be as sweet and even sweeter than the sweetest hour of one's lifetime. During the time that I did not see Her thus, all for myself, Her absence was a great sorrow to me, just like the absence of a mother. I now feel once again the ineffable joy which was my companion in December and early January. And I am happy, notwithstanding that the sight of the torture of the Passion casts a veil of grief on all my happiness. 20. 4 20. 5 123

20. 6 20. 7It is difficult to explain and make you understand what I feel and what has been happening since February the eleventh, when in the evening I saw Jesus suffer in His Passion. That sight has changed me completely. Whether I die now or in one hun­ dred years' time, that vision will always be the same in intensity and consequences. Previously I used to think of the sorrows of Christ, now I live them, because one word, or a glance at an im­ age is enough to make me suffer all over again what I suffered that evening and be horrified at those tortures; and I grieve over His desolate sufferings, and even if nothing reminds me of them, their remembrance tears my heart. Mary is beginning to speak and I turn silent. 6Mary says: «I will not speak much, because You are very tired, My poor daughter. I only wish to draw your attention and the attention of readers to the constant habit of Joseph and Mine of giving pri­ ority to prayer. Tiredness, haste, worries, troubles never hin­ dered our prayer, on the contrary they helped it. It was always the queen of our troubles, our relief, our light, our hope. If in sad moments it was a consolation, in happy ones it was a song. But it was always the constant friend of our souls. It detached us from the earth, from our exile, and it raised us up towards Heaven, our Fatherland. Not only I, Who by now had God with Me and I had but to look at My bosom to worship the Holy of Holies, but also Joseph felt united to God when he prayed, because our prayers were a true adoration of our whole beings, which melted with God by wor­ shipping Him and by being embraced by Him. And please note that not even I, although I had the Eternal God in Me, not even I felt exempted from respectful homage to the Temple. The deepest holiness does not exempt anyone from feeling a mere nothing with regard to God and from converting such nothingness into an endless hosanna to God's glory, since He allows us to do so. 7Are you weak, poor, faulty? Invoke the holiness of the Lord: “Holy, Holy, Holy!” Invoke the Blessed Holy One to assist you in your misery. He will come and instil His holiness into you. Are you holy and rich in merits in the eyes of God? Invoke the ho-124

liness of the Lord just the same. It is infinite and will increase yours. The angels, who are superior to the weaknesses of man­ kind, do not cease singing their “Sanctus” not even for an in­ stant, and their supernatural beauty increases with each invoca­ tion of the holiness of our God. Imitate the angels. Never divest yourselves of the protection of prayer, which blunts the weapons of Satan, the malice of the world, the incen­ tives of the flesh and mental pride. Never lay down this weapon, which causes Heaven to open and pour out Its graces and bless­ ings. The world needs a shower of prayers to be purified from the sins that draw punishments from God. And since only few people pray, those few must pray as if they were many. They must mul­ tiply their living prayers to make up the necessary amount to ob­ tain graces. Prayers are living when they are flavoured with true love and sacrifice. 8My dear daughter, it is a good thing, pleasing to God and praiseworthy, that you should suffer because of the sufferings of My Jesus and Mine, in addition to your own. Your sympathet­ ic love is so dear to Me. But do you want to kiss Me? Kiss the wounds of My Son. Dress them with the balm of your love. I suf­ fered spiritually the pangs of the scourges, of the thorns and the torture of the nails and of the cross. And likewise I feel spiritu­ ally all the caresses given to my Jesus, as they are as many kisses given to Me. And then come. I am the Queen of Heaven. But I am always the Mother... » And I am happy. 21. The arrival of Mary in Hebron and Her meeting with Elizabeth. 1st April 1944. 1I am now in a mountainous place. They are not high moun­ tains, neither are they just hills. There are ridges and creeks as we see in our Apennines in Tuscany and Umbria. The vegeta­ tion is thick and beautiful and there is plenty of fresh water that keeps the pastures green and the orchards fruitful: apple and fig-trees are mostly cultivated in the orchards and grapes near20. 8 21. 1 125

21. 2 21. 3the houses. It must be springtime because the grapes are rather big, about the size of vetch grains, and the apple-blossoms have already sprung and they look like so many little green pellets; on top of the fig branches the first fruits can be seen, still in the em­ bryo stage, but already well formed. The meadows are real soft multicoloured carpets. Sheep are grazing or resting on them and they look like white spots on the emerald of the grass. 2Mary, on Her donkey, is climbing up a rather well kept road, probably the main road. She is climbing because the village is higher up and it looks quite tidy. My internal warner says to me: “This place is Hebron. ” You spoke to me of Montana. I cannot help it. It is indicated to me with this name. I do not know wheth­ er Hebron is the whole area or only the village. That is what I hear and that is what I say. Mary is now entering the village. It is evening. Some women on their doorsteps watch the arrival of the stranger and gossip with one another. Their eyes follow Her and they are not hap­ py until they see Her stop in front of one of the prettiest houses, in the centre of the village, with a kitchen garden in the front, and a well cultivated orchard in the rear and around it. The or­ chard continues into a large meadow that rises and slopes ac­ cording to the sinuosity of the mountain and ends in a wood of tall trees, beyond which I do not know what there is. The whole place is surrounded by a hedge of blackberries or wild roses. I cannot tell exactly which, because, if you remember, the flowers and leaves of these two thorny hedges are very much alike and until their branches bear fruit it is easy to confuse them. In front of the house, that is on the side that skirts the village, the place is enclosed by a small low white wall, on top of which there are rows of rose-bushes, at present without flowers, but already full of buds. In the centre there is an iron gate. It is easily understood that it is the house of a notable of the village and a well-to-do family, because everything shows comfort and great order, if not riches and pomp. 3Mary gets off the donkey and goes to the gate. She looks through the iron bars, but does not see anyone. She endeavours then to make Herself heard. A little old woman, who more curi­ ous than the others has followed Her, shows Her a strange gadget that is used as a bell. It consists of two pieces of metal balanced 126

on a kind of yoke, at the end of which there is a rope. When the rope is pulled, the two metal pieces strike each other and make the sound of a bell or gong. Mary pulls the rope, but so gently, that there is only a faint tinkling, which no one hears. Then the little old woman, whose face is all nose and pointed-chin and whose tongue is worth ten put together, gets hold of the rope and pulls it several times with all her might. She makes enough noise to raise the dead! «That's how You do it, woman. Otherwise, how can they hear You? You know, Elizabeth is old and so is Zacharias. Now he is dumb as well as deaf. Also the two servants are old, don't You know? Have You ever been here before? Don't You know Zacharias? Are You... » Mary is rescued from the deluge of information and questions by a little old man who suddenly appears panting. He must be a gardener or a farmer, for he is holding a hoe in his hand and there is a pruning knife tied to his belt. He opens the gate and Mary en­ ters thanking the little woman but... leaving her recent question unanswered. What a disappointment for the curious soul! As soon as She is inside Mary says: «I am Mary of Joachim and Anne, from Nazareth. I am your masters' cousin. » 4The man bows down and welcomes Her, he then calls out in 21. 4 a loud voice: «Sarah! Sarah! » He opens the gate again to let in the donkey that had been left outside. Mary, in fact, to get rid of the persistant little woman, had slipped inside very quickly and the gardener just as quickly had closed the gate in the face of the gossip. And while taking the donkey in, he exclaims: «Oh! What a great happiness and what an upheaval to this household! Heav­ en has granted a child to the barren one, may the Most High be blessed! But seven months ago, Zacharias came back dumb from Jerusalem. He now makes himself understood by gestures or by writing. Perhaps You already know. My landlady has longed so much for You in this joy and this travail! She always spoke to Sa­ rah about You and she would say: “If I only had little Mary with Me! I wish She were still in the Temple! I would send Zacharias to fetch Her. But now the Lord wanted Her married to Joseph of Nazareth. She is the only one who can comfort me in my pain and help me to pray to God, because She is so good. And they all miss Her in the Temple. On the last feast day, the last time I went 127

21. 5to Jerusalem with Zacharias to thank the Lord for the child He has given me, Her teachers said to me: 'The Temple seems to be without the Cherubim of the Glory since Mary's voice is no longer heard inside these walls'”. » He then shouts again: «Sarah, Sa­ rah! My wife is a little deaf. But come, please, I'll show You the way. » 5Instead of Sarah, a fairly old woman appears at the top of the staircase on one side of the house. Her face is all wrinkles and her hair is very grey. It must have been very black at one time because her eyelashes and eyebrows are still very dark and also from the colour of her face one can tell that she was swarthy. Her present, very obvious pregnant condition, is a strange contra­ diction to her clear old age, notwithstanding her wide and loose dress. She looks down shading her eyes with her hand. As soon as she recognises Mary she raises her arms to the sky and utters an «Oh!» of joy and surprise. She then rushes, as fast as she can, towards Mary. Also Mary, who always moves very quietly, now runs, as swift as a little deer, and reaches the foot of the staircase at the same time as Elizabeth. And She embraces with great af­ fection Her cousin who is crying with joy at seeing Her. They remain embraced for an instant and then Elizabeth de­ taches herself exclaiming: «Ah!», an exclamation of mingled joy and sorrow and she places her hands on her enlarged abdomen. She bows her face and turns red and pale alternately. Mary and the servant hold out their hands to support her because she stag­ gers, as if she were unwell. But Elizabeth, after a moment of concentration, lifts her face which is now so bright that she looks much younger. She then looks at Mary with evident veneration as if she sees an angel, she bows in a deep salutation exclaiming: «You are blessed amongst all women! Blessed is the Fruit of Your womb! (She says exactly that: two clearly separate sentences). How did I deserve that the Mother of my Lord should come to me, Your servant? There, at the sound of Your voice, the child leaped out of joy in my womb and when I embraced You, the Spirit of the Lord whispered deepest truths to my heart. You are blessed, because You believed that it was possible for God even what does not appear possible to the human mind! You are blessed, because by Your faith You will ac­ complish the things the Lord predicted to You and the Prophets 128

foretold for our times! You are blessed for the Salvation You have brought to the house of Jacob! You are blessed for the Holiness You have brought to my son, whom I feel leaping with joy, like a happy little kid, in my womb, because he feels free from the bur­ den of guilt, and is called to be the Predecessor, sanctified before Redemption by the Holy One Who is growing within You! » Mary, with two tears that run down like two pearls from Her sparkling eyes to Her smiling lips, with Her face raised to heaven and also Her arms raised up, in the position that Her Jesus will often take on, exclaims*: «My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord» and She continues the canticle as it has been handed down to us. At the end, at the verse: «He has come to the help of Israel his servant etc. », she puts Her hands on Her breast, kneels down stooping to the ground, adoring God. 6The servant, who quite wisely had disappeared when he re­ alised that Elizabeth was not really physically unwell, on the contrary, she was confiding her thoughts to Mary, is now com­ ing back from the orchard with a solemn old man, whose hair and beard are completely white, and who greets Mary from a dis­ tance with great gestures and loud guttural sounds. «Zacharias is arriving,» says Elizabeth, touching the shoul­ der of Mary, engrossed in prayer. «My Zacharias is dumb. God has punished him because he did not believe. I will tell You la­ ter. But now I hope that God will forgive him, because You have come. You, full of Grace. » Mary rises and goes to meet Zacharias. She stoops to the ground in front of him, kissing the hem of his white robe that reaches down to the ground. It is a very wide robe, held tight to the waist by a large embroidered braid. Zacharias welcomes Mary by gestures and they both move to­ wards Elizabeth. They all enter a room on the ground floor. It is a wide room, tastefully arranged, where they make Mary sit down and they offer Her some new milk — there is still froth it — and some small pieces of bread. Elizabeth gives some orders to the maid servant, who has ap­ peared at last, her hands still covered with flour and her hair whiter than usual because of the flour dust on it. Perhaps she was * exclaims: Luke 1: 46-55. 21. 6 129

21. 7baking bread. She gives orders also to the male servant, whose name I hear is Samuel, and tells him to take Mary's trunk to a room which she indicates to him. She thus fulfils her duties of a landlady towards her guest. In the meantime Mary is replying to the questions Zacharias is asking Her, writing them on a wax tablet with a style. From Her answers I understand that he is asking Her about Joseph and Her married life with him. I also understand that Zacharias has been denied all supernatural light about Mary's state and Her condition of Mother of the Messiah. Elizabeth goes near her hus­ band and laying her hand on his shoulder, in a loving attitude, as if she were caressing him chastely, she says to him: “Also Mary is a mother. Rejoice over Her happiness. ” But she does not say any­ thing else. She looks at Mary. And Mary looks at her but does not encourage her to say more and Elizabeth stays silent. 7A sweet, very sweet vision! It obliterates the horror of the sight of Judas' suicide. Last night, before falling asleep, I saw Mary crying, bent over the unction stone, on the dead body of Our Redeemer. She was on His right-hand side, with Her back to the opening of the sepul­ chre grotto. The torches lit up Her face so that I could see Her poor face ravaged by sorrow and washed by tears. She would take Jesus' hand, caress it, warm it against her cheeks, kiss it, stretch its fingers out... kiss them one by one, those poor motion­ less fingers. Then She would caress His face, would bend down to kiss His open mouth, His half-open eyes, His wounded fore­ head. The reddish light of the torches made the wounds of the tortured body appear more real and rendered the cruelty of His torture and the realism of His death more true and authentic. And I remained in contemplation until my mind was clear. When I came out of my drowsiness, I prayed and I lay down to go to sleep. Then the above vision began. But Mother said to me: «Don't move. Just look. You will write it tomorrow. » In my sleep I dreamt it all over again. When I woke up at 6. 30 I saw what I had already seen both when I was awake and in my sleep. And I wrote while I was seeing. Then you came and I asked you if I could add the following. They are various sketches of Mary's stay in Zacha­ rias' house. 130

22. The days in Hebron. The significance of Mary's goodness to Elizabeth. 2nd April 1944. 1It is morning. I see Mary sewing, sitting in the room on the ground floor. Elizabeth is going to and fro, busy with the house­ work. And when she comes into Mary's room, she never fails to go and caress Her fair head, which looks even more fair against the rather dark walls and in the beautiful sun rays that enter through the door open onto the garden. Elizabeth bends down to look at Mary's work — the embroi­ dery She had in Nazareth — and she praises its beauty. «I have also some linen to spin, » says Mary. «For your Child? » «No. I had it already when I never thought... » Mary does not say anything else. But I understand: «... when I never thought I was to be the Mother of God. » «But now You will have to use it for Him. Is it good? Fine? Children, You know, need very soft material. » «I know. » «I had begun... Late, because I wanted to be sure that it was not a deception of the Evil One. Although... I felt such a joy with­ in me, that it could not possibly come from Satan. After... I suf­ fered so much. I am old, Mary, really old, to be in this state. 2I suffered so much. Don't You suffer... » «No. I don't. I have never been so well. » «Of course. Quite right. You... there is no stain in You, as God chose You for His Mother. And that is why You are not subject to Eve's sufferings. The One You bear is holy. » «I feel as if I had a wing in My heart and not a burden. I seem to have within Me all the flowers and all the birds that sing in springtime, and all the honey and all the sunshine... Oh! I am so happy! » «Blessed Mary! Neither do I any longer feel burden, tired­ ness or pain, since I saw You. I seem to be new, young, freed from the miseries of woman's flesh. My child, after leaping happily at the sound of Your voice, is now quiet in his joy. And I seem to have him, in me, as in a living cradle, and I see him sleeping sat­ isfied and happy, breathing like a little bird under the wing of22. 1 22. 2 131

22. 3its mother... 3I will now start working. He will no longer be a weight. I cannot see very well, but... » «Never mind, Elizabeth. I will see to the spinning and weav­ ing both for you and for your baby. I am quick and My sight is very good. » «But you will have to see to Your... » «Oh! There will be plenty time!... First I will take care of you, since you are going to have your baby very shortly, and later I will see to My Jesus. » It is beyond human possibility to tell you how sweet are Mary's expressions and voice, how bright Her eyes are with sweet hap­ py tears, and how She smiles in pronouncing that Name, looking at the clear blue sky. She seems to be enraptured simply saying: «Jesus». Elizabeth exclaims: «What a beautiful name! The name of the Son of God, of Our Redeemer! » «Oh! Elizabeth! » Mary becomes sad and She seizes the hands of Her relative who had laid them across her enlarged abdo­ men. «Tell Me, since you were illuminated by the Spirit of the Lord, when I came here, and you prophesied what the world does not know, tell Me: what will My Creature have to suffer to save the world? The Prophets... Oh! What do the Prophets say of the Saviour? Isaiah... Do you remember Isaiah? “He is the Man of sorrows. Through His wounds we are healed. He was pierced through for our faults, crushed for our sins. Yahweh has been pleased to crush Him with suffering. After being condemned He was lifted up... ” What lifting is he referring to? They call Him the Lamb and I cannot help thinking of the lamb of the Passo­ ver, of the lamb of Moses, and I associate it with the serpent ele­ vated by Moses on a cross. Elizabeth! ay... Elizabeth!... What will they do to My Creature? What will He have to suffer to save the world? » Mary is crying. Elizabeth comforts Her. «Mary, don't cry. He is Your Son, but He is also the Son of God. God will see to His Son, and will look after You, His Mother. And if so many will be cruel to Him, so many will love Him. So many!... Forever and ever. The world will look at Your Son and will bless You with Him. They will bless You, for You are the Spring from which redemption gushes out. The destiny of Your Son! He will be raised to the rank of King 132

of the whole creation. Just think of that, Mary. King, because He will redeem the whole creation, and as such, He will be uni­ versal King. And He will be loved also in the world, in its life­ time. My son will precede Yours and will love Him. The angel told Zacharias. And he wrote it down for me... 4How painful it is to see him dumb, my Zacharias! But I hope that when the baby is born also the father will be freed from his punishment. Will You pray, too, since You are the Seat of the Power of God and the Cause of delight in the world. To obtain this grace I make my of­ fers to the Lord, as best I can. I offer my creature: because it be­ longs to Him, as He lent it to His servant to grant her the joy of being called “mother”. It is the testimony of what God has done for me. I want his name to be “John”. Isn't my son a grace? And didn't God grant me it? » «And God, I am sure, will grant you the grace. I will pray... with you. » «I suffer so much seeing him dumb!... » Elizabeth is crying. «When he writes, as he can no longer speak to me, there seem to be mountains and oceans between me and my Zacharias. After so many years of sweet conversation, now there is nothing but si­ lence from his mouth. And particularly now, when it would be so nice to talk about him who is about to come. I even refrain from speaking to avoid seeing him getting strained in his efforts to re­ ply to me by gestures. I have cried so much! How much did I long for You! The people of the village watch, talk and criticise. Such is the world. But when one has a pain or a joy, one needs to be un­ derstood, not criticised. But now my life seems completely im­ proved. I feel a joy in me since You came here. I feel that my test is about to end and that I shall soon be completely happy. I am right, am I not? I have resigned myself to everything. But if God would only forgive my husband! If I could only hear him pray once again! » 5Mary caresses and comforts her and in order to divert her at­ tention, she invites her to take a little walk in the sunny garden. They walk under a well cultivated pergola, as far as a little rustic tower, in the holes of which doves have nested. Mary scatters the birdseed laughing, because the doves have rushed on Her, cooing loudly and flapping noisily, forming iri­ descent circles around Her. They alight on Her head, shoulders,22. 4 22. 5 133

arms and on Her hands, stretching their rosy beaks to snatch the grains from Her hands, gracefully pecking the Virgin's rosy lips and Her teeth that shine in the sun. Mary takes the golden corn from a little sack and She laughs in the middle of that game of in­ trusive greed. «How fond they are of You! » points out Elizabeth. «You have only been here a few days and they love You more than me, al­ though I have always taken care of them. » They continue walking until they reach an enclosure, at the end of the orchard, where there are about twenty goats with their little kids. «Have you come back from the pasture? » Mary asks a little shepherd, caressing him. «Yes, because my father said to me: “Go home, because it is going to rain shortly and there are some sheep about to lamb. Make sure they have dry grass and litter”. There he is, he is com­ ing. » And he points to the wood, whence a continual trembling bleating can be heard. Mary caresses a little kid, as fair as a child, which rubs itself against Her, and together with Elizabeth She drinks some new milk that the little shepherd offers them. Then the sheep arrive led by a shepherd as hairy as a bear. But he is obviously a good man because he is carrying a groan­ ing sheep on his shoulders. He puts her down gently and explains: «She is about to lamb. She can only walk with difficulty. I put her on my shoulders and I hurried all the way to get here in time. » The sheep, still limping painfully, is led into the fold by the boy. Mary is sitting on a stone and is playing with the little kids and the lambs, offering clover flowers to their pretty rosy little faces. A black and white kid puts its little hooves on Her shoul­ der and smells Her hair. «It is not bread, » says Mary laughing. «I will bring you some crumbs tomorrow. Be good, now. » Once again cheerful, Elizabeth also laughs. 6I see Mary Who is spinning very quickly under the pergola, where the grapes are growing bigger and bigger. Some time must have elapsed because the apples are beginning to redden on the trees and the bees are humming near the fig flowers already ma­ ture. 13422. 6

Elizabeth is now quite stout, and she is walking heavily. Mary looks at her carefully and lovingly. Also Mary's sides appear more round when She gets up to pick up the spindle which has fallen far away from Her. The expression on Her face has changed. It is more mature; before She was a girl, now She is a woman. The women go into the house because it is now getting dark, and the lamps are lit in the room. While waiting for supper, Mary begins to weave. «Do You never get tired? » asks Elizabeth, pointing to the loom. «No, you can be sure of that. » «I am exhausted by this heat. I have not suffered any longer, but now the weight is too heavy for my old kidneys. » «Take courage. You will soon be free. How happy you will then be. 7I am longing to be a mother. My Child! My Jesus! What 22. 7 will He be like? » «As beautiful as You are, Mary. » «Oh no! More beautiful! He is God. I am His maid. What I meant is, will He be fair or dark? Will His eyes be like a clear sky, or like the eyes of a mountain deer? I imagine Him more beauti­ ful than a cherub, with golden curly hair, His eyes the same col­ our as the Sea of Galilee when the stars begin to peep on the ho­ rizon, His tiny little mouth as red as a pomegranate that bursts when it matures in the sun, and His cheeks as pink as this pale rose, with two little hands that could be contained in the hollow of a lily, they are so small and tiny, and two tiny feet that I can hold in the hollow of My hand, so soft and smooth, even more so than the petal of a flower. See. The idea I have of Him is taken from all the beautiful things that nature suggests to Me. And I can hear His voice. When He cries — because My Child will cry a little when He is hungry or sleepy, and it will always be a great pain for His Mummy Whose heart will be pierced every time She hears Him cry — when He cries, His voice will be like the bleat­ ing that now comes from a little lamb, only a few hours old, when it seeks its mother's breast, and her warm maternal fleece to sleep. When He laughs — and My heart in love with my Creature will then be full of Heaven, for I can be in love with Him, because He is My God, and it will not be against My consecrated virginity to love Him as a lover — His voice when He laughs will be like the 135

22. 8 22. 9merry cooing of a happy little dove which is full and content in its cosy little nest. And I think of Him when He is taking His first steps... a little bird hopping on a flowery meadow. The meadow will be His Mother's heart, it will be laid under His tiny pink feet with all Her love, so that He may not tread on anything that may hurt Him. Oh, how I will love My Child! My Son! 8Also Joseph will love Him. » «But You will have to tell Joseph. » Mary's face darkens, and She sighs. «Yes, I will have to tell him... I wish Heaven would tell him, because it is so difficult to tell. » «Shall I tell him? We will ask him to come for John's circum­ cision... » «No. I have entrusted God with the task of informing him of his happy destiny of putative father of the Son of God, and He will do so. The Spirit said to Me that evening: 'Be silent. Entrust Me with the task of justifying You'. And He will do so. God never lies. It is a great trial, but with the help of the Eternal Father, it will be overcome. No one must learn from My mouth what the goodness of the Lord has done. Certainly you are the exception, because the Spirit revealed it to you. » «I have not mentioned it to anybody, not even to Zacharias who would have been very happy. He thinks you are a mother ac­ cording to nature. » «I know. And I decided that out of prudence. The secrets of God are holy. The angel of the Lord did not reveal My divine ma­ ternity to Zacharias. He could have done so, if God had wanted, because God knew that the time for the Incarnation of His Word in Me was already imminent. But God hid this joyful light from Zacharias, who rejected your late maternity as something im­ possible. I have complied with the will of God, as you have seen. You perceived the secret living in Me. He did not perceive any­ thing. Until the screen of his incredulity does not fall before the power of God, he will be separated from supernatural lights. » Elizabeth sighs and turns silent. 9Zacharias comes in. He offers some parchment rolls to Mary. It is the hour of prayer before supper. Mary prays in a loud voice instead of Zacharias. Then they settle down at the table. «When You are no longer with us, how we shall regret having 136

no longer anyone to pray for us, » says Elizabeth, looking at her dumb husband. «You will pray then, Zacharias, » says Mary. He shakes his head and writes: «I will never be able to pray again for other people. I became unworthy when I doubted of my God. » «Zacharias, you will pray. God forgives. » The old man wipes a tear and sighs. After supper, Mary goes back to the loom. «That's enough! » says Elizabeth. «You will become too tired. » «Your time is approaching, Elizabeth. I want to prepare for your child clothes worthy of him who will precede the King of the House of David. » Zacharias writes: «Of whom will He be born? And where? » Mary replies: «Where the Prophets said, and of whom the Eternal Father will choose. Whatever our Most High Lord does, is well done. » Zacharias writes: «Well, in Bethlehem then! In Judah. We shall go and worship Him, woman. And You will come to Bethle­ hem, too, with Joseph. » And Mary, bowing Her head over the loom says: «I will come. » The vision ends thus. 10Mary says: «The first charity towards our neighbours is to be exerted to­ wards our neighbours. This must not seem a pun to you. There is charity towards God and charity towards our neighbours. Char­ ity towards our neighbours comprises also charity towards our­ selves. But if we love ourselves more than our neighbours, we are no longer charitable, we are selfish. Also in lawful matters, we must be so holy as to always give priority to the needs of our neighbour. Be sure, My children, that God provides for the gen­ erous by means of His power and His bounty. 11It was this certainty that led Me to Hebron to assist My rela­ tive in her condition. And to My eagerness for human help, God, giving beyond measure as He is wont, added an unforeseen gift of supernatural assistance. I went to give material help and God sanctified My good intention by sanctifying, through it, the fruit of Elizabeth's womb, and by means of that sanctification,22. 10 22. 11 137

by which the Baptist was presanctified, He relieved the physi­ cal pain of the elderly daughter of Eve, who had conceived at an unusual age. Elizabeth, a woman of fearless faith and confident submis­ sion to God's will, deserved to understand the mystery that was enclosed within Me. The Spirit spoke to her through the bounc­ ing in her womb. The Baptist pronounced his first speech, as the Announcer of the Word, through the veils and the diaphragms of veins and flesh that separated and united him at the same time to his holy mother. Neither did I deny My prerogative of being the Mother of the Lord, because she was worthy of the information and the Light had revealed Itself to her. To deny it would have meant denying God the praise that it was just should be given to Him, the praise that I bore in Me, and which, since I could not tell anyone, I re­ peated to the grass, to the flowers, to the stars, to the sun, to the singing birds and the patient sheep, to the warbling waters, to the golden light that kissed Me descending from Heaven. But it is sweeter to pray together rather than say our prayers by our­ selves. I would have liked all the world to know of My destiny, not for My own sake, but that they might join Me in praising My Lord. Prudence forbade me to reveal the truth to Zacharias. That would have implied going beyond the work of God. And if I was His Spouse and Mother, I was still His servant, and I could not take the liberty of substituting Him and exceeding Him in a de­ cree, simply because He had loved Me beyond measure. Elizabeth in her holiness understood, and was silent. Because a holy person is always submissive and humble. 12The gift of God must increase our goodness. The more we receive from Him, the more we must give. Because the more we receive, the more obvious it is that He is with us and within us. And the more He is with us and within us, the more we must en­ deavour to reach His perfection. That is why I worked for Elizabeth, postponing My own work. I was not afraid that I would not have time. God is the master of time. He provides for those who hope in Him, also in normal things. Selfishness does not speed matters up, it delays them. Charity does not delay, it speeds up. Always bear that in mind. 13822. 12

13How much peace there was in Elizabeth's house! If I had not been worried about Joseph and... and my Child, Who was the Re­ deemer of the world, I would have been happy. But the cross was already casting its shadow on My life and I heard the voices of the Prophets like a knell... My name was Mary. Bitterness was always mingled with the sweetness that God poured into My heart. And it increased more and more until the death of My Son. But when God calls us, Mary, to the destiny of victims for His glory, oh! it is sweet to be ground like corn in the millstone, to convert our pain into a bread that can strengthen the weak and make them capable of reaching Heaven! Now, it is enough. You are tired and happy. Rest now with My blessing. » 23. The birth of John the Baptist. Every pain is appeased on Mary's bosom. 3rd April 1944. 1This vision of peace descends from Heaven, amid the disgust­ ing things the world now offers us, and I do not know how that can be, because I am like a little twig at the mercy of the wind in my continuous conflicts with human wickedness so discordant with what lives within me. 2We are still in Elizabeth's house. It is a beautiful summer evening, still clear in the last rays of the sun, and yet the sky is already decorated with a falcated moon that looks like a silver comma attached to a large deep blue cloth. The rose-bushes let off strong perfume and the bees, like humming gold drops, are making their last flights in the qui­ et warm evening air. From the meadows, there is a strong smell of hay dried in the sun, it is almost like that of bread, of warm bread, just taken out of the oven. Perhaps it comes also from the many sheets hanging everywhere to dry, and which Sarah is now folding. Mary is walking with Her cousin, linking arms with her. They go up and down very slowly, under the semi-dark pergola. But Mary watches everything and, while taking care of Eliz­22. 13 23. 1 23. 2 139

23. 3abeth, She sees that Sarah is in difficulty folding a long sheet which she has taken off a hedge. «Sit down here, and wait for me», She says to her relative. And She goes to help the old serv­ ant, pulling the sheet to straighten it, and then folding it care­ fully. «They still smell of sun, they are warm», She says with a smile. And to make the old lady happy, She adds: «This sheet, af­ ter your bleaching, has become as beautiful as ever. You are the only one who knows how to do things so well. » Sarah goes away, overjoyed, with her load of scented sheets. Mary goes back to Elizabeth and says: «Let us take a few more steps. They will do you good. » And as Elizabeth is tired, and does not wish to move, Mary says to her: «Let us go only to see if your doves are all in their nests, and if the water in their tub is clear. We shall then go back home. » 3Doves must be the favourite pets of Elizabeth. When they are in front of the rustic tower where all the doves are gathered, Elizabeth is deeply moved; in fact the hens are in the nests and the cocks are in front of them, but neither of them move, instead they all start cooing loudly when they see the two women: a gen­ tle form of greeting. Elizabeth is overcome by the weakness of her condition and by fears that make her cry. She expresses her fears to her cousin. «If I should die... what will happen to my poor little doves? You will not be staying here. If You were to re­ main in my house, it would not matter if I died. I have had the greatest joy a woman can possibly have. The joy which I was no longer expecting to have, and I cannot even complain of death with the Lord, because He has overwhelmed me with His benig­ nity, may He be blessed for it. But there is Zacharias... and then there will be the child. An old man who would feel as though he were lost in a desert without his woman. And the other is so small, that he would be like a flower, condemned to die of cold because he is without his mother. Poor baby, without the caresses of his mother!... » «But why are you so sad? God has given you the joy of being a mother, and He will not take it away from you when it is full. Lit­ tle John will receive all the kisses of his mummy, and Zacharias all the attentions of his faithful wife until the very end of his long life. You are two branches of the same tree. One will not die, leav­ ing the other alone. » 140

«You are good, and You comfort me. But I am so old to have a son. And now that I am about to have one, I am afraid. » «Oh! No! Jesus is here. We must not be afraid where Jesus is. My Child relieved your pain, you said that yourself, when He was just a newly formed bud. Now that He is becoming more and more mature, and He already lives as My Creature — I can feel in My throat the beating of His little heart, and I feel as if a little nestling with a light pulsating heart were resting on My throat — He will remove all dangers from you. You must have faith. » «I have. But if I should die... don't leave Zacharias straighta­ way. I know that You are concerned with Your own house. But please remain here a little longer to help my husband in his first days of sorrow. » «I shall stay to take delight in your joy and in the joy of your husband, and I will leave you when you are strong and happy. But now be quiet, Elizabeth. Everything will be alright. Nothing will happen to your household while you are suffering. Zacha­ rias will be served by the most loving maid, your flowers will be looked after, and your doves will be attended to, and you will find them all beautiful and happy to rejoice with, when their beloved mistress comes back. 4Let us go in now, because you are getting pale... » «Yes, I think I am beginning to suffer again. Perhaps my time has come. Mary, pray for me. » «I will support you with My prayer until your labour ends in joy. » The two women slowly go back into the house. Elizabeth with­ draws to her rooms. Mary, a capable and provident woman, gives the necessary instructions, prepares everything that may be nec­ essary, and at the same time, She comforts Zacharias who is wor­ ried. In the house that is sleepless that night, and where one can hear the unfamiliar voices of women called in to help, Mary is watchful like a lighthouse on a stormy night. The whole house rotates around Her, and She sees to everything, smiling sweetly. And She prays. When She is not called for this or that matter, She concentrates on prayer. She is now in the room where they always gather for their meals and to work. Zacharias is with Her, and he sighs and walks up and down23. 4 141

23. 5uneasily. They have already prayed together. Then Mary has con­ tinued to pray. Even now that the old man, tired, has sat down on his big chair near the table, and is quiet and sleepy, She prays. And when She sees him sleeping with his head resting on his arms crossed on the table, She takes Her sandals off to make no noise and walks barefooted and, making less noise than a but­ terfly fluttering around the room, She takes Zacharias' mantle, and lays it on him so gently that he continues to sleep in the com­ fort of the woollen cloth that protects him from the cold air of the night that comes in, in gusts from the door, which is very often open. Then She starts praying again, and She prays more and more intensely, kneeling down, raising Her arms, when the pain­ ful cries of Elizabeth become louder. 5Sarah comes in and invites Her to go out. Mary goes out bare­ footed into the garden. «My mistress wants You, » she says. «I am coming. » And Mary walks along the house, goes up­ stairs... She looks like a white angel, wandering in the peaceful starry night. She goes into Elizabeth's room. «Oh! Mary! Mary! What pain! I can't stand it any longer, Mary! How much pain one must suffer to be a mother! » Mary caresses her lovingly, and kisses her. «Mary! Mary! Let me put my hands on Your bosom! » Mary takes the two wrinkled and swollen hands, and lays them on Her round abdomen, pressing them tightly with Her smooth, slender little hands. And She speaks in a low voice, now that they are alone: «Jesus is here, and He hears and sees you. Have faith, Elizabeth. His holy heart is beating more strongly be­ cause He is acting for your good. I can feel it throbbing as though I were holding it in My hands. And I understand the words that My Child says to Me. He is now saying: 'Tell the woman not to be afraid. Only a little more pain. And then, with the first rays of the sun, among the many roses awaiting the morning's rays to open out on their stems, her house will have the most beautiful rose, and it will be John, My Predecessor'. » Elizabeth now also presses her face against Mary's bosom, and weeps gently. Mary stands for some time in that position because the pain seems to ease giving a moments relief. And she beckons every­ body to be quiet. She remains standing, beautiful and white in 142

the pale, faint light of an oil lamp, like an angel near a person who suffers. She is praying. I can see Her moving Her lips. But even if I did not see them move, I would understand that She is praying from the enraptured expression on Her face. 6Some time goes by, and Elizabeth is in labour once again. Mary kisses her again, and goes out. She goes downstairs very quickly in the moonlight, and goes to see if the old man is still sleeping. He is sleeping, and moaning in his sleep. Mary makes a gesture of compassion, and starts to pray once again. More time passes. The old man awakes from his sleep and lifts up his head, and he is confused, because he does not recollect why he is there. Then he remembers, makes a gesture, and ut­ ters a gutteral exclamation. He then writes: «Is he not born yet?» Mary shakes Her head in denial. Zacharias writes: «How much pain! Oh my poor woman! Will she manage without dying? » Mary takes the hand of the old man, and reassures him: «At dawn, in a short while, the baby will be born. Everything will be alright. Elizabeth is strong. How beautiful this day will be — it will soon be daybreak — how beautiful this day will be when the child sees the light! It will be the best day of your life! The Lord has kept aside great graces for you and your child is the announcer of them. » Zacharias shakes his head sadly, and points to his dumb mouth. He would like to say many things, but cannot. Mary understands, and replies: «The Lord will complete your joy. Believe in Him completely, hope in Him indefinitely, love Him totally. The Most High will grant you more than you dare hope for. He wants this total faith from you, to wash out your past mistrust. Say in your heart with me: 'I believe'. Say it with every beat of your heart. The treasures of God are opened for those who believe in Him and in His powerful bounty. » 7The light begins to filter in through the partly open door. Mary opens it. Dawn makes the dewy earth completely white. There is a strong smell of humid earth and grass, and the first chirping of the birds, calling one another from branch to branch, can be heard. The old man and Mary move towards the door. They are pale because of the sleepless night, and the light at dawn makes them look even more pale. Mary puts on Her sandals, and goes to the23. 6 23. 7 143

23. 8foot of the staircase and listens. A woman looks out, nods, and then goes back in. Nothing yet. Mary goes into the room, and comes back with some warm milk which She gives to the old man. She goes to the doves, comes back, and disappears into the same room. Perhaps it is the kitch­ en. She moves around attentively. She looks as though She had slept the most perfect sleep, She is so quick and serene. Zacharias is walking up and down the garden very nervous­ ly. Mary looks at him compassionately. She then goes again in­ to the usual room, and kneeling near Her loom, She prays in­ tensely, because the cries of Elizabeth are becoming sharper. She bows down to the ground imploring the Eternal Father. Zachari­ as comes back in, and seeing Her in this prostrate state, the poor old man cries. Mary gets up and takes him by the hand. She is so much younger than he is, but She looks as though She were the mother of the poor old desolate soul, and She consoles him. 8They are standing thus, one beside the other, in the sun that makes the morning air rosy, and it is then that the joyful news reaches them: «He is born! He is born! It's a boy! Happy father! A boy as beautiful as a rose, as beautiful as the sun, as strong and good as his mother! Joy for you, father, blessed by the Lord Who gave you a son that you may offer him to the Temple! Glory to God, Who has granted posterity to this house! Blessed are you, and your son who was born to you! May his offspring perpetuate your name for centuries, from generation to generation, and may his descendants always be in union with the Eternal Lord. » Mary blesses the Lord weeping for joy. Then the two receive the little one, who has been brought to the father, so that he may bless him. Zacharias does not go to Elizabeth. He receives the child, who is screaming desperately, but he does not go to his wife. Mary instead goes, carrying with love the little one, who turns quiet, as soon as She takes him in Her arms. The woman who is following Her notices this, and she says to Elizabeth: «Woman, your child turned quiet immediately, when She took him. Look how peacefully he is sleeping, and only Heaven knows how rest­ less and strong he is. But look now! He seems a little dove. » Mary lays the creature near his mother and caresses her, tidy­ ing up her grey hair. «The rose is born», She whispers in a low voice, «and you are alive. Zacharias is happy. » 144

«Does he speak? » «Not yet. But hope in the Lord. Rest now. I am staying with you. » 9Mary says: «If My presence had sanctified the Baptist, it did not nullify for Elizabeth the sentence against Eve. 'In pain you shall give birth to your children' the Eternal Father had said. Only I, because I was without stain, and I had not had any hu­ man copulation, was exempted from generating with pain. Sad­ ness and pain are fruits of fault. I, Who was the Innocent One, had to know also sorrow and sadness, because I was the Core­ deemer. But I did not know the torture of generating. No. I did not know that torture. But believe Me, daughter, that there never was, and never will be a torture of puerpery like Mine as the Martyr of a spir­ itual Maternity, which was accomplished on the hardest of beds, the bed of My cross, at the foot of the scaffold of My dying Son. Which mother is compelled to generate thus? To blend the tor­ ture of Her bowels which contract spasmodically because of the death rattle of Her dying Creature, with the torture which tears Her bowels apart in the strain of overcoming the horror of hav­ ing to say: “I love you, come to Me, I am your Mother” to each murderer of Her Son, born of the most sublime love that Heaven ever saw, of the love of a God with a virgin, of the kiss of Fire, of the embrace of Light which became Flesh, and made the womb of a woman the Tabernacle of God? “How much pain to be a mother! ” says Elizabeth. So much! But nothing when compared to Mine. 10“Let me press my hands on Your bosom”. Oh, if you always asked Me for that when you suffer! I am the Eternal Bearer of Jesus. He is in My womb, as you saw last year*, like the Host in the monstrance. He who comes to Me, finds Him. He who leans on Me, touches Him. He who addresses Me, speaks to Him. I am His Robe. He is My Soul. My Son is unit­ ed to His Mother more, much more now, than He was in the nine months that He was in My womb. And every pain is appeased, * you saw last year, 23rd June 1943 (“The Notebooks. 1943”). 23. 9 23. 10 145

24. 1 24. 2every hope flourishes and every grace flows for those who come to Me and rest their heads against My bosom. I pray for you. Remember that. The beatitude of being in Heav­ en, living in the ray of God, does not cause Me to forget My chil­ dren who are suffering on the earth. And I pray. And all Heaven prays, because Heaven loves. Heaven is living charity. And Char­ ity has mercy on you. But even if I were all by Myself, My prayer would be sufficient for the needs of those who hope in God. Be­ cause I never stop praying for you all, for the holy and the wick­ ed, to give joy to the holy, to give repentance to the wicked that they might be saved. Come, come, o children of My sorrow. I am waiting for you at the foot of the Cross to grant you graces. » 24. The circumcision of John the Baptist. Mary is the Source of Grace for those accepting the Light. 4th April 1944. 1I see the house rejoicing. It is the day of the circumcision. Mary has made sure that everything is beautiful and in good order. The rooms are bright with light, the most beautiful cloths, the nicest furnishings are shining everywhere. There are a lot of people. Mary moves agile amongst the various groups. She is very beautiful in Her most beautiful white dress. Elizabeth, respected by everybody as a matron, is enjoying her feast most happily. The child is laid on her lap, sated with milk. 2It is now the moment for the circumcision. «We will call him Zacharias. You are old. It is only fair that the child be called after you, » say the men. «Not at all! » exclaims Elizabeth. «His name is John. His name must be the witness of the power of God. » «But has there ever been a John in our kinship? » «It does not matter, his name is to be John. » «What do you say, Zacharias? You want your name, don't you? » Zacharias shakes his head in denial. He takes his tablet and writes: «His name is John. » And as soon as he finishes writing, 146

he adds, with his tongue now free: «because God has granted a great grace to me, his father, and to his mother, and to this new servant of His who will spend his life for the glory of the Lord, and will be called great forever in the world and in the eyes of God, because he will give converted hearts to the Most High Lord. The angel said so, and I did not believe. It but now I believe, and the Light is now in me. The Light is amongst us, but you do not see it. It is its destiny not to be seen, because the souls of men are encumbered and idle, but my son will see It, and will speak of It, and will turn to It the hearts of the just in Israel. Oh! Blessed are those who believe in It and will always believe in the Word of the Lord. And blessed be You, o Eternal Lord, God of Israel, be­ cause You have visited and redeemed Your people, and You have raised up for us a powerful Saviour in the house of Your servant David. As You promised by mouth of the holy Prophets from an­ cient times, that You would save us from our enemies and from the hands of all who hate us, to show Your mercy to our ances­ tors, and thus remember Your holy covenant. This is the oath You swore to our father Abraham; that You would grant us, free from fear, deliverance from the hands of our enemies, to serve You in Heaven and thrive in Your presence all our days» and he contin­ ues to the end*. The people present are most surprised at the name, at the mir­ acle, at the words of Zacharias. Elizabeth, who at the first words of Zacharias had uttered a cry of joy, is now weeping, embracing Mary, Who is caressing her happily. 3I do not see the circumcision. I only see them bring back John, 24. 3 who is screaming at the top of his voice. Not even his mother's breast can calm him down. He is kicking like a little colt. Then Mary takes him, and lulls him, and he turns quiet, and lies down peacefully. «Now just look! » says Sarah. «He is quiet only when She picks him up! » The people begin to go away slowly. In the room now there are only Mary, holding the baby in Her arms, and Elizabeth who is in a state of bliss. * to the end, Zacharias' prophecy in Luke 1: 67-79. 147

24. 4 24. 54Zacharias comes in, and closes the door. He looks at Mary with his eyes full of tears. He wants to speak. Then he is silent. He moves forward. He kneels down in front of Mary. «Bless the poor servant of the Lord, » he says to Her. «Bless him, because You can do so, since You are carrying Him in Your womb. The word of the Lord was spoken to me when I admitted my error and I believed everything I had been told. I see You, and Your happy destiny. I adore the God of Jacob in You. You are my first Temple, where once again a priest, I can pray the Eternal Fa­ ther again. You are blessed because You obtained grace for the world and You are now bringing the Saviour to it. Forgive Your servant if he did not see Your majesty before. When You came here, You brought us all the graces, because everywhere You go, o Full of Grace, God works His miracles, and holy are those walls which You enter, holy become the ears which listen to Your voice, and holy the flesh You touch. Holy the hearts, because You grant Grace, Mother of the Most High, Virgin of the Prophets, expected to bring the Saviour to the people of God. » 5Mary smiles, full of humbleness and She speaks: «Praise be to the Lord. To Him only. From Him, not from Me, comes eve­ ry grace. And He grants it to you, that you may love Him, and that it may help you to reach perfection in the following years to deserve His Kingdom that My Son will open to the Patriarchs, to the Prophets, to the just of the Lord. And since you can now pray before the Holy, please pray for the maidservant of the Most High, because to be Mother of the Son of God is blissful, to be Mother of the Redeemer must be a destiny of deepest sorrow. Pray for Me, because I feel My weight of sorrow increasing from hour to hour. And I shall have to bear it all My life. And even if I do not see the details, I feel that it will be heavier than if the whole world were placed on My shoulders of a woman, and I were to offer it to Heaven. I, I alone, poor woman! My Child! My Son! Ah! Your son no longer cries if I lull him. But shall I be able to lull Mine, to soothe His pain?... Pray for Me, priest of God. My heart shudders like a flower in a storm. I look at men, and I love them. But I see the Enemy appear behind their faces, and make them enemies of God, and of My Son Jesus... » And the vision ends with the paleness of Mary and Her tears, that cause Her eyes to shine brightly. 148

24. 6 6Mary says: «God forgives him who acknowledges his sin, repents and confesses it with a humble and sincere heart. He does not only forgive, He rewards. Oh! How good is My Lord to those who are humble and sincere! To those who believe in Him, and trust in Him! 7Clear your souls of what encumbers them and makes them lazy. Prepare your souls to receive the Light. As a light in dark­ ness, It is a guide and a holy consolation. O holy friendship with God, beatitude of His faithful ones, wealth unequalled by anything else, he who possesses you is nev­ er alone, and never tastes the bitterness of despair. O holy friend­ ship, you do not eradicate sorrow, because sorrow was the des­ tiny of a God incarnate and can thus be the destiny of man. But you make this sorrow sweet in its bitterness, and you mix it with a light and a caress which relieve the cross with a celestial touch. And when Divine Bounty grants you graces, make use of the gift received to give glory to God. Do not be like foolish people who turn a good thing into a harmful weapon, or like lavish per­ sons who convert their wealth into misery. 8You give Me too much sorrow, My children, behind whose faces I see the Enemy appear, that is, he who hurls himself against My Jesus. Too much sorrow! I would like to be the Source of Grace for everybody. But too many among you do not want Grace. You ask for 'graces', but with a soul devoid of Grace. How can Grace succour you if you are Her enemies? 9The great mystery of Good Friday is approaching. It is com­ memorated and celebrated in churches. But it is necessary to celebrate and commemorate it in your hearts, and to beat your breasts like those who were descending from Golgotha and say: 'In truth, this Man was the Son of God, the Saviour', and say: 'Je­ sus, for the sake of Your Name, save us', and say: 'Father, forgive us', and finally say: 'I am not worthy, but if You forgive me and come to me, my soul will be healed, and I no longer want to com­ mit sin, because I no longer wish to be ill and hateful to You'. Pray, children, with the words of My Son. Say to the Father for your enemies: 'Father, forgive them'. Call the Father Who has withdrawn indignant at your errors: 'Father, Father, why have You forsaken me? I am a sinner. But if You forsake me, I will per­24. 7 24. 8 24. 9 149

24. 10 25. 1ish. Come back, Holy Father, that I may be saved'. Entrust your eternal good, your spirit, to the Only One Who can preserve it unhurt from the demons: 'Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit'. Oh! If with humbleness and love you surrender your spirit to God, He will lead it as a father leads his little one, neither will He allow anything to hurt your spirit. Jesus, in His agony, prayed to teach you how to pray. I am re­ minding you of it in these days of His Passion. 10And you, Mary, since you see My joy of a Mother and you are enraptured by it, consider and remember that I possessed God through an ever increasing sorrow. It descended into Me with the Seed of God and like a gigantic tree it has grown until it touched Heaven with its top, and hell with its roots, when I received on My lap the lifeless remains of the Flesh of My flesh, and I saw and counted His tortures, and I touched His torn Heart to consume My sorrow right until the last drop. » 25. Presentation of John the Baptist to the Temple. Mary's return. The Passion of Joseph. 5th and 6th April 1944. 1This is what I see the night between the Wednesday and Thursday of the Holy Week. I see Zacharias, Elizabeth, Mary and Samuel getting off a comfortable waggon, to which Mary's little donkey is also tied. Mary is holding little John in Her arms and Samuel has a lamb and a basket with a pigeon in it. They get off at the usual stable, which must be the stopping place for all the pilgrims to the Tem­ ple, who leave their mounts there. Mary calls to the owner and asks him whether anybody ar­ rived from Nazareth the day before or early that morning. «No­ body, woman,» replies the little old man. Mary is surprised, but does not say anything else. She gets Samuel to fix her little donkey, and then She joins the two elderly parents, and She explains Joseph's delay: «He must have been held up by something. But he will certainly come to­ day. » She takes the child again from Elizabeth to whom She had handed him before, and they all set out for the Temple. 150

Zacharias is received with honour by the guards, and is 25. 2 greeted and congratulated by other priests. He is very handsome today, in his priestly robes and his joy of happy fatherhood. He looks like a patriarch. I think that Abraham must have been like him when he rejoiced offering Isaac to the Lord. I see the ceremony of the presentation of the new Israelite and the purification of his mother. The ceremony is more stately than Mary's, because the priests celebrate it solemnly for the son of another priest. They all rush round the group of women and the child, and are happily engaged with them. Also some curious people have come near and I can hear their comments. Since Mary is holding the child in Her arms while they move to the appointed place, the people think She is the mother. But a woman says: «It's not possible. Can't you see that She is pregnant? The baby is only a few days old and she is already with child. » «And yet, » points out another one «only She can be the moth­ er. The other woman is old. She must be a relative. But she cer­ tainly cannot be the mother at her age. » «Let us follow them, and we will see who is right. » And their surprise becomes even greater when they see that it is Elizabeth who fulfils the purification rite: she offers the bleat­ ing lamb in holocaust and the pigeon for sin. «She is the mother. Didn't I tell you? » «No! » «Yes. » The people whisper, still incredulous. They whisper so much that a peremptory «Ssst! » comes from the group of priests pre­ sent at the rite. They are silent for a moment, but start whisper­ ing even louder when Elizabeth, radiant with holy pride, takes the child and moves forward in the Temple to make the presenta­ tion to the Lord. «It is she! » «It's always the mother who makes the offering. » «What miracle can this be? » «What will that child be, who has been granted to that wo­ man at such an old age? » «What sign can it be? » 151

25. 3«Don't you know? » says one, who has just arrived panting. «It's the son of Zacharias, the priest of the house of Aaron, the one who became dumb when he was offering incense in the Sanc­ tuary. » «It's a mystery! A mystery! And now he speaks once again! The birth of his son has untied his tongue. » «I wonder what spirit spoke to him and paralysed his tongue to accustom him to be silent about the secrets of God! » «It is a mystery! What secret truth does Zacharias know? » «Will his son be the Messiah expected by Israel? » «He was born in Judaea. Not in Bethlehem and not of a virgin. He can't be the Messiah! » «Who is he, then? » But the answer remains in the silence of God and the people are left to their curiosity. The ceremony is over. The priests are now joyfully paying compliments to the mother and her child. The only one who is hardly noticed, even avoided almost with disgust when they be­ come aware of Her condition*, is Mary. 3After all the congratulations, most of them go out onto the road. Mary wants to go to the stable to see whether Joseph has arrived. He has not. Mary is disappointed and worried. Elizabeth is anxious about Her. «We can stay until midday, then we must go, to be home before night. He is too young to be out at night. » And Mary, calm and sad: «I will stay in one of the yards of the Temple. I will go to My teachers... I do not know. I will do some­ thing. » Zacharias makes a proposal which is immediately accepted as a good solution: «Let us go to Zebedee's relatives. Joseph will certainly look for You there. If he should not come there, it will be quite easy for You to find someone who will accompany You to Galilee, because the fishermen from Gennesaret are continu­ ously going to and coming from that house. » They take the little donkey and go to Zebedee's relatives, who are the very same people with whom Joseph and Mary stayed four months before. * Her condition, according to the Law, a pregnant woman was impure. 152

The time passes quickly, but there is no sign of Joseph. Mary controls Her grief lulling the baby, but it is obvious that She is worried. Although it is so warm that everybody is perspiring, She has not taken off Her mantle, concerned as She is to conceal Her condition. 4At long last, Joseph is announced by a loud knocking at the door. Mary's face shines, cheerful again. Joseph greets Her, because She is the first to go and meet him and greet him reverently. «The Lord's blessing on you, Mary! » «And on you, Joseph. And praised be the Lord that you have come! Here, Zacharias and Elizabeth were about to leave, to be at home before night. » «Your messenger arrived in Nazareth, when I was at Cana, working there. I was told the other evening. And I left at once. But although I have travelled without stopping, I am late, be­ cause the donkey lost one of his shoes. Please forgive me. » «I am to be forgiven by you, because I have been away from Nazareth for such a long time! But see, they were so happy to have Me with them, that I decided to please them up till now. » «You have done well, Woman. Where is the baby? » They enter the room where Elizabeth is giving milk to little John, before departing. Joseph congratulates the parents on the sturdiness of the child, who screams and kicks, as if they were thrashing him, because he has been taken away from his moth­ er's breast to be shown to Joseph. They all laugh at his protests. Also Zebedee's relatives, who have come in with fresh fruit, milk and bread for everybody, and a large tray of fish, laugh and join in the conversation. 5Mary speaks very little. She is sitting quiet and silent in Her little corner, with Her hands on Her lap under Her mantle. Even when She drinks a cup of milk, and eats a bunch of golden grapes with a little bread, She speaks very little, and hardly moves. Her looks at Joseph are a mixture of pain and enquiry. He also looks at Her. And after some time, bending over Her shoulder, he asks Her: «Are You tired or are You not well? You look pale and sad. » «I am sorry I have to part from little John. I am very fond of him. I held him on My heart only a few minutes after he was born... »25. 4 25. 5 153

25. 6Joseph does not ask any more questions. It is time for Zacharias to depart. The waggon stops at the door and they all go towards it. The two cousins embrace each other fondly. Mary kisses the baby many times before putting him in the lap of his mother, who is already sitting in the wag­ gon. She then says goodbye to Zacharias, and asks him to bless Her. When kneeling before the priest, Her mantle slips off Her shoulders, and Her figure appears in the bright light of the sum­ mer afternoon. I do not know whether Joseph notices Her figure at this moment, because he is intent on saying goodbye to Eliza­ beth. The waggon leaves. 6Joseph goes back into the house with Mary, Who sits down again in the dim corner. «If You do not mind travelling by night, I would suggest we leave at sunset. It is very warm during the day. The night instead is cool and quiet. I am saying that for You, because I don't want You to get sunstroke. It makes no difference to me to be in a scorching sun. But You... » «As you wish, Joseph. I also think it is better to travel by night. » «The house has been all tidied up. And the little orchard. The flowers are beautiful, as You will see. You are arriving just in time to see them all in bloom. The apple-tree, the fig-tree, the vines are laden with fruit as never seen before, and I had to put a support for the pomegranate, because its branches were so heav­ ily laden with fruit already fully grown, something which has never been seen before at this time of the year. The olive-tree... You will have plenty of oil. It blossomed in a miraculous way, and not one flower was lost. All the flowers are now little olives. When they are mature, the tree will seem full of dark pearls. There isn't another orchard as beautiful in the whole of Nazareth. Also Your relatives are surprised. Alphaeus says it is a miracle. » «Your hands have worked it! » «Oh! no! Poor me! What can I have done? I took care of the trees and I gave some water to the flowers... Do You know? I built a fountain for You down at the end, near the grotto, and I put a large basin there. So You will not have to go out to get water. I brought the water down from the spring which is above Matthew's olive-grove. It is pure and plentiful. I brought a little stream down to You. I dug a small duct in the ground, I covered 154

it properly, and now the water comes down, singing like a harp. I was not happy that You should go to the village fountain, and then carry the jars full of water back home. » «Thank you, Joseph. You are so good! » Joseph and Mary are now silent, as if they are tired. Joseph is also dozing. Mary is praying. 7It is now evening. The host insists that they should eat some­ thing before leaving. Joseph, in fact, eats some bread and fish, while Mary takes only some milk and fruit. They then depart. They get on their donkeys. Joseph has fas­ tened Mary's little trunk to his saddle, as he had done when com­ ing to Jerusalem. And before She gets on Her donkey, he makes sure that Her saddle is properly fastened. I see that Joseph looks at Mary when she mounts Her saddle. But he does not say-any­ thing. Their journey starts when the first stars begin to twinkle in the sky. They hurry to the town gates to reach them before they close. When they come out of Jerusalem, and they take the main road towards Galilee, the clear sky is already crowded with stars. There is solemn quietness in the country. One can hear on­ ly a few nightingales singing, and the beating of the hooves of the two donkeys on the hard road, baked by the sun. 8Mary says: «It is the eve of Maundy Thursday. Some people may think that this vision is out of place. But your grief of lover of My Jesus Crucified is in your heart and will remain there even if a sweet vision is shown to you. It is like the tepidity emanating from a flame, which is still fire but is no longer fire. The flame is fire, not its tepidity which comes from it. No beatific or peaceful vi­ sion will be able to remove that grief from your heart. And re­ gard it as something precious, more precious than your own life. Because it is the greatest gift that God can grant a believer in His Son. Further, my vision is not discordant, in all its peace, with the commemorations of this week. 9Also My Joseph suffered his passion. It began in Jerusalem when he noticed My condition. And it lasted several days, exactly as it had happened to Jesus and to Me. Neither was it less painful for his soul. And only because of the holiness of My just spouse,25. 7 25. 8 25. 9 155

it was contained in such a dignified and secret form, that it has been hardly noticed throughout centuries. Oh! Our first Passion! Who can feel its intimate and silent in­ tensity? Who can describe My pain when I realised that Heaven had not yet heard My prayer by revealing the mystery to Joseph? I understood that he was not aware of it when I saw that he was respectful to Me as usual. If he had known that I bore in Me the Word of God, he would have adored that Word enclosed in My womb, with the acts of veneration which are due to God and which he would not have failed to accomplish, as I would not have refused to receive, not for My own sake, but for Him Who was within Me and that I bore, as the Ark of the Alliance carried the stone code and the vases of manna. Who can measure My struggle against the dismay that en­ deavoured to overwhelm Me in order to convince Me that I had hoped in vain in the Lord? Oh! I think it was the furious rage of Satan! I perceived doubt rising behind My back, and stretching its icy claws to imprison My soul and prevent it from praying. Doubt is so dangerous and lethal to the spirit. It is lethal because it is the first agent of the deadly disease called 'despair', against which we must react with all our strength, so that our souls may not perish, and we may not lose God. Who can truly tell Joseph's pain, his thoughts, the perturba­ tion of his feelings? Like a little boat caught in a great storm, he was in a vortex of conflicting ideas, in a turmoil of reflec­ tions, of which one was more piercing and painful than the other. He was, to all appearances, a man betrayed by his wife. He saw his good reputation and the esteem of his world collapse around him; because of Her he saw scornful fingers pointed at him and felt pitied by the village people. Above all, he perceived that his love and esteem for Me had fallen, struck to death, before the evi­ dence of a deed. 10In this respect, his holiness shines brighter than Mine. And I give this witness with the affection of a spouse, because I want you to love My Joseph, this wise, prudent, patient and good man, who is not separated from the mystery of Redemption, on the contrary, he is closely connected to it, because he suffered for it, consuming himself in sorrow for it, saving your Saviour at the cost of his own sacrifice because of his holiness. 15625. 10

Had he not been so holy, he would have acted in a human way, denouncing Me as an adulteress so that I should be stoned, and the Son of My sin should perish with Me. If he had been less ho­ ly, God would not have granted him His light as guidance in his trial. But Joseph was holy. His pure spirit lived in God. His char­ ity was ardent and strong. And out of charity he saved your Sav­ iour for you, both when he refrained from accusing Me to the el­ ders, and when he saved Jesus in Egypt, leaving everything with prompt obedience. 11The three days of Joseph's passion were short in number, but deep in intensity. And they were tremendous also for Me, those days of My first passion. Because I was aware of his suffering, which I could not alleviate, in fact I had to obey God's command Who had said to Me: 'Be silent! ' And when, after we arrived in Nazareth, I saw him go away with a laconic goodbye, and bent as if he had aged in a short time, and I noticed that he no longer came to see Me in the evening as he used to do, then I tell you, My children, that My heart wept very bitterly. Closed in My house, all alone, in the house where everything reminded Me of the Annunciation and the Incarna­ tion, and where everything reminded Me of Joseph, married to Me with spotless virginity, I had to fight despair and Satan's in­ sinuation, and hope, hope, hope. And pray, pray, pray. And for­ give, forgive, forgive Joseph's suspicion, his disturbance and just despair. My children: you must hope, pray, forgive in order to obtain God's intervention in our favour. You must live your passions, because you deserved them with your sins. I can teach you how to overcome them and turn them into joy. Hope beyond measure. Pray with confidence. Forgive to be forgiven. God's forgiveness will be the peace you desire, My children. 12I will not say anything else for the time being. There will be silence until after the Easter triumph. It is Passion time. Have pity on your Redeemer. Listen to His cries, and count His wounds and tears. The former were suffered, the latter shed for you. Let every other vision disappear before that one that reminds you of the Redemption accomplished for you. »25. 11 25. 12 157

26. Joseph asks Mary for forgiveness. Faith, charity and humility to receive God. 26. 1 26. 2 26. 331st May 1944. 1After fifty-three days Mother shows Herself again in this vi­ sion which She tells me to put in this book. I am filled with joy. Because to see Mary is to possess joy. 2I see the little orchard in Nazareth. Mary is spinning in the shade of a very thick apple-tree overloaded with apples which are beginning to redden and are so rosy and round that they look like so many cheeks of children. But Mary is not rosy at all. The beautiful colour that bright­ ened Her cheeks at Hebron has disappeared. Her face is as pale as ivory, only Her lips are a curve of pale coral. Under Her lowered eyelashes there are two dark shadows and Her eyes are swollen as if She had cried. I cannot see Her eyes, because Her head is bowed, intent on Her work and even more on a thought which is obviously distressing Her, in fact I can hear Her sighing like a person sad at heart. She is all dressed in white, in white linen, because it is very warm, despite the fact that the freshness, still intact, of the flow­ ers leads me to believe that it is morning. Her head is uncov­ ered, and the sun playing among the apple-tree leaves, which are stirred by a very gentle breeze, filters with its thin rays down to the dark brown earth of the flowerbeds and forms small circles of light on Her blond head, so that Her hair looks like pure gold. There is no noise whatsoever from the house or from the neigh­ bourhood. One can only hear the babbling of the tiny stream of water that runs down into the large basin at the bottom of the or­ chard. 3Mary jolts at a loud firm knock at the door. She lays the dis­ taff and spindle down and rises to go and open. Although Her dress is loose and wide it does not conceal the roundness of Her pelvis. Joseph is standing in front of Her. Mary turns pale, also in Her lips. Her face is so white that it looks like a host. Mary looks at Joseph with sad enquiring eyes. Joseph looks at Her with im­ ploring ones. They are both silent, looking at each other. Then Mary says: «At this time, Joseph? Is there anything you need? 158

What do you want to tell Me? Come in. » Joseph enters and closes the door. He is still silent. «Speak, Joseph. What is it you want from Me? » «I want You to forgive me, » Joseph bends down as if he want­ ed to kneel down. But Mary, Who is always so reserved in touch­ ing him, seizes him resolutely by his shoulders and stops him. Mary's face blushes and blanches in rapid succession, one mo­ ment it is all red and immediately afterwards it is as white as snow, as it was before. «You want Me to forgive you? I have noth­ ing to forgive you, Joseph. I can but thank you once again for eve­ rything you have done here while I was away and for your love for Me. » Joseph looks at Her, and I can see two large tears welling up in the cavity of his deep eyes, they remain there as if they were on the rim of a vase, and they then roll down on to his cheeks and his beard. «Forgive me, Mary. I mistrusted You. Now I know. I am not worthy of having such a treasure. I lacked in charity, I ac­ cused You in my heart, I accused You unfairly, because I did not ask You to tell me the truth. I sinned against God's law, because I did not love You as I loved myself... » «Oh! no! You have not sinned! » «Yes, I have, Mary. If I had been accused of such a crime, I would have defended myself. But You... I was not giving You the possibility of defending Yourself, because I was about to take a decision without questioning You. I have been unfair to You, be­ cause I offended You with my suspicion. Also a single suspicion is an offence, Mary. Who suspects does not know. And I did not know You as I should have done. But for the torment I suffered... three days of torture, forgive me, Mary. » «I have nothing for which to forgive you. On the contrary, I ask you to forgive Me for the pain I caused you. » «Oh! Yes, it was a great pain! What a torture! Look! I was told this morning that my temples are white haired and my face wrinkled. These past days have been more than ten years of my life! 4But why, Mary, have You been so humble as to conceal Your 25. 4 glory from me, Your spouse, and thus allow me to suspect You? » Joseph is not on his knees, but he is bent so low that he is as good as kneeling down, and Mary lays Her tiny hand on his head and smiles. She seems to be absolving him. And She whispers: 159

25. 5«If I had not been humble in the most perfect manner, I would not have deserved to conceive the Expected One, Who is coming to pay for the sin of pride that ruined man. And then I obeyed... God had requested such obedience. It cost Me so much... because of you, because of the pain that you were to suffer. But I could but obey. I am the handmaiden of the Lord, and servants do not discuss the orders they receive. They fulfil them, Joseph, even if they cause bitter tears. » Mary weeps quietly while speaking. So quietly that Joseph, bent down as he is, does not notice it until a tear falls on the floor. He then lifts his head and — it is the first time I see him do this — he presses Mary's little hands in his dark strong ones and he kisses the tips of the rosy slender fingers that protrude like fresh buds of a peach-tree from the circle formed by his own hands. 5«Now we shall have to arrange for... » Joseph does not say anything else, but he looks at Mary's body and She becomes pur­ ple and sits suddenly, to avoid Her figure being exposed to eyes watching Her. «We shall have to make haste. I will come here... We will complete the wedding... Next week. Is that alright? » «Whatever you do is alright, Joseph. You are the head of the family, I am your servant. » «No. I am Your servant. I am the happy servant of my Lord Who is growing in Your womb. You are blessed amongst all the women of Israel. This evening I will warn my relatives. And af­ ter... when I am here, we will work to prepare everything to re­ ceive... Oh! How can I receive God in my house? God... in my arms? I will die of joy!... I will never dare touch Him! I will never be able... ! » «You will be able, as I will, by the grace of God. » «But You are... I am a poor man, the poorest of God's chil­ dren!... » «Jesus is coming to us, poor people, to make us rich in God, He is coming to us two, because we are the poorest and we admit it. Rejoice, Joseph. The House of David has the King long waited for and our home will become more splendid than Solomon's pal­ ace, because Heaven will be here and we shall share with God the secret of peace that men will be acquainted with later. He will grow among us, our arms will be the cradle for the Redeem­ er and our work will procure bread for Him... Oh! Joseph! We 160

shall hear the voice of God calling us 'father and Mother! ' Oh!... » Mary cries with joy. Such happy tears! And Joseph, who is now kneeling at Her feet, is weeping with his head almost hidden in Mary's wide dress, which falls in folds on to the plain floor of the room. The vision ends here. 6Mary says: «No one must interpret My pallor erroneously. It was not caused by human fear. From a human point of view I should have expected to be stoned to death. But I was not afraid because of that. I was suffering because of Joseph's pain. Neither was I up­ set by the thought that he might accuse Me. I was only sorry and afraid that he might be lacking in charity if he should insist in his accusation. That is why all My blood rushed to My heart when I saw him. It was the moment when even a just man might have offended Justice by offending charity. And I would have been ex­ tremely upset if a just man were to commit an error since he nev­ er erred. 7Had I not been humble to the very extreme limit, as I told Jo­ seph, I would not have deserved to bear within Me Him Who was lovering Himself, God, to the humiliation of being a man, in or­ der to make reparation for the pride of the human race. 8I have shown you that scene, which is not described by any of the Gospels, because I want to draw the excessively misguided attention of men to the conditions which are essential to please God and receive His continuous calls to your hearts. Faith: Joseph believed the heavenly messenger's words un­ questioningly. He wanted but to believe, because he was sincere­ ly convinced that God is good and that since he had hoped in the Lord, the Lord would not have reserved for him the torture of being betrayed, disappointed and sneered at by his neighbours. He asked for nothing, but to believe in Me, because, being honest, it was painful for him to think that other people were not hon­ est. He lived according to the Law and the Law says: 'Love your neighbour as you love yourself'. We love ourselves so much that we think we are perfect even when we are not. Can we therefore not love our neighbour simply because we think he is faulty? Unrestricted Charity. A charity that knows how to forgive,25. 6 25. 7 25. 8 161

25. 9 27. 1that wants to forgive, and forgive in advance wholeheartedly ex­ cusing the imperfections of our neighbours. It is necessary to for­ give immediately, accepting every extenuating circumstance. Humility, as unrestricted as charity. You must admit that you can be faulty even in simple thoughts, and you must not be so proud as to refuse to say: 'I made a mistake', because such pride would be more harmful than the previous fault. Everybody makes mistakes, with the exception of God. Who can say: 'I am never wrong'? And there is a more difficult humility: the one that knows how to keep silent about God's wonderful things in us, when it is not necessary to proclaim them for His glory, so that we might not discourage our neighbour who has not received such special gifts from God. If He wants, oh! if He only wants, God reveals Himself in His servant! Elizabeth 'saw' Me for what I was, My spouse knew Me for what I was, when it was time for him to know. 9Leave to the Lord the care of proclaiming you His servants. He is anxious to do so, because every creature that rises to a par­ ticular mission, is a new glory which is added to His infinite glo­ ry, and is a witness of what man is, as God wanted him to be: a lesser perfection that reflects its Author. Remain in shadow and silence, you who are beloved by Grace, so that you may hear the only words of 'life', that you may deserve to have on you and in you the Sun that shines eternally. Oh! Most Blessed Light, God, joy of Your servants, do shine on those servants of Yours that they may exult in their humility, praising You, only You, because You disperse the proud but raise the humble, who love You, to the splendour of Your Kingdom. » 27. The census edict. Teachings on just love to the husband and on trust in God. 4th June 1944. 1I see the house in Nazareth once again: the little room where Mary usually takes Her meals. She is now working at a white piece of cloth. She lays Her work down to light a lamp, because it is getting dark, and She can no longer see well in the green­ ish light which comes in through the door half open on to the or­ 162

chard. She closes the door, too. Her abdomen is now very big. But She is still so beautiful. Her walk is always agile and all Her gestures are gentle. There is none of the heavy awkward movements which are generally noticed in a woman when she is about to give birth to her child. Only Her face has changed. Now She is «the woman». Before, at the time of the Annunciation, She was a young girl with the serene innocent face of a child. Afterwards, in Elizabeth's house, when the Bap­ tist was born, Her face had become more refined and gracefully mature. Now it is the serene but sweetly majestic face of a woman who has reached her full perfection in maternity. She no longer resembles the «Annunciation» of Florence, so dear to you, Father. When She was a girl, I saw the resemblance. Her face is now longer and thinner, Her eyes are more pensive and larger. In brief, it is like what Mary is now in Heaven. Be­ cause Her countenance and age are once again as they were when the Saviour was born. Her youth is the eternal youth which not only has not known the corruption of death, but has not even experienced the with­ ering of age. Time has not touched our Queen and Mother of the Lord Who created time; and if in Her torture at the time of Pas­ sion — a torture which had begun for Her a long time previous­ ly, I could say since Jesus began to evangelise — She looked old, such aging was like a veil cast over Her incorruptible person. In fact since the moment that She sees Jesus risen, She becomes once again the fresh perfect creature She was before such tor­ ture, as if by kissing His Most Holy Wounds She had drunk a balm of youth which cancels the action of time, and even more so, of sorrow. In fact even eight days ago, when I saw the descent of the Holy Spirit on Whitsunday, I saw that Mary was 'beautiful, most beautiful and all of a sudden looked younger' as I wrote and had written previously: 'She looks like a blue angel'. Angels do not grow old. They are eternally beautiful, because they reflect the eternal youth and the eternal presence of God. The angelical youth of Mary, blue angel, is perfected now, but not in the secrecy of a room unknown to the world and with only one archangel as witness. It reaches the perfect age which She took with Her to Heaven and which She will keep forever in Her holy glorified body, when the Spirit adorns Her with the bridal 163

27. 2 27. 3ring and crowns Her in the presence of everybody. I wanted to make this digression because I thought that it was necessary. I will now revert to the description. Mary, thus, is now really a «woman» full of dignity and grace. Also Her smile has gained in sweetness and majesty. How beau­ tiful She is! 2Joseph comes in. He seems to be coming from the village, be­ cause he comes in through the main door, not from the workshop. Mary lifts Her head and smiles at him. Also Joseph smiles. But his smile seems to be a forced one, as if he were worried. Mary looks at him inquisitively. She then gets up to take the mantle that Joseph is taking off and She folds it and lays it on a chest. Joseph sits at the table. He rests one elbow on it and lays his head on one hand, while with the other hand, absentmindedly, he combs and ruffles his beard with alternate strokes. «Is there anything worrying you? » asks Mary. «Can I help you? » «You always comfort me, Mary. But this time, I have a big problem... that concerns You. » «Me, Joseph. And what is it? » «They have posted an edict on the synagogue door. It orders the census of all Palestinians. And everybody must go and regis­ ter in his place of origin. We must go to Bethlehem... » 3«Oh! » exclaims Mary, interrupting him and putting one hand on Her bosom. «It's a shock, isn't it? And a sad one. I know! » «No, Joseph. That's not it. I am thinking... I am thinking of the Holy Scriptures: Rachel, Benjamin's mother and Jacob's wife of whom the Star will be born: the Saviour. Rachel buried in Bethlehem, of which it is said*: 'But you, Bethlehem, Ephrathah, the least of the clans of Judah, out of you will be born the Ruler'. The Ruler who was promised to the House of David. He will be born there... » «Do You... do You think it is already the time?... Oh! What shall we do? » Joseph is completely dismayed. He looks at Mary with two pitiful eyes. She realises this and smiles. But She smiles more at Herself * it is said: Micah 5: 1. 164

than at him. A smile that seems to say: «He is a man, a just man, but a man. And he sees as a man. He thinks as a man. Have pity on him, o soul of Mine, and guide him so that he may see as a spirit. » But Her kindness induces Her to reassure him. She is not untruthful. She simply diverts his anxiety. «I do not know, Jo­ seph. My time is very close. But could the Lord not delay it to re­ lieve you from this worry? He can do everything. Don't fear. » «But the journey!... Think of the crowds. Shall we find good lodgings? Shall we be in time to come back? And if... if You are to become a Mother there, what will we do? We have no home there... We do not know anybody anymore. » «Don't be afraid. Everything will be alright. God finds a shel­ ter for the animal about to give birth. Do you think He will not find one for His Messiah? We trust in Him, don't we? We always trust in Him. The harder the trial, the more we trust. Like two children we put our hands in His fatherly ones. He is our guide. We rely entirely on Him. Consider how He has led us with love so far. A father, even the best of fathers, could not do it with greater care. We are His children and His servants. We fulfil His will. No harm can befall us. Also this edict is His will. What is Caesar af­ ter all? An instrument in the hands of God. Since the time when the Father decided to forgive man, He pre-arranged the events so that His Christ may be born in Bethlehem. Bethlehem, the small­ est town in Judah, did not yet exist and its glory was already des­ tined. And there... a powerful man has risen, very far from here, and he conquered us, and now he wants to know all his subjects, now, while the world is in peace... so that the glory of Bethlehem may be accomplished and the word of God may not be belied, — as it would be if the Messiah were to be born elsewhere. Oh! What is our small trouble if we consider the beauty of this mo­ ment of peace? Just think, Joseph: a period of time when there is no hatred in the world! Can there be a happier hour for the rising of the 'Star', the light of which is divine and its influence is re­ demption? Oh! Do not be afraid, Joseph. If the roads are not safe, if the crowds will make the journey a difficult one, the angels will defend and protect us. Not us: but their King. If we find no accomodation, their wings will be our tents. No mishap will be­ fall us. It cannot: God is with us. » 4Joseph looks at Her and listens to Her, happily. The wrinkles27. 4 165

27. 5 27. 6on his forehead smooth away. He gets up, no longer tired or wor­ ried. He smiles. «You are blessed, Sun of my soul! You are bless­ ed, because You see everything through the Grace of which You are full! Don't let us waste time, then. Because we must leave as soon as possible, and come back as soon as possible, because eve­ rything is ready here for the... for the... » «For our Son, Joseph. He must be such in the eyes of the world, remember that. The Father has covered His coming with the veil of mystery and we must not lift that veil. Jesus will do it, when the time comes... » The beauty of Mary's face, look, expression and voice, when She says «Jesus» cannot be described. It is already an ecstasy. And the vision ends on it. 5Mary says: «I will not add much more, because My words are already a lesson. But I wish to draw the attention of wives to one point. Too many marriages break up through the fault of women, who do not possess that love, which is everything: kindness, pity and sol­ ace to their husbands. The physical suffering that lies heavy on women does not lie heavily on men. But all the moral worries do: necessities of work, decisions to be taken, responsibilities before the established authorities and one's own family... oh! how many things weigh on man! And how much comfort he also needs! And yet, a woman's selfishness is such that she adds the weight of use­ less and sometimes unfair complaints to the burden of her tired, disheartened, worried husband. And all this because she is self­ ish. She does not love. Love is not the satisfaction of one's senses and utility. To love is to satisfy him whom we love, beyond senses and utility, giving him the help he needs so that he may always be able to keep his wings open in the skies of hope and peace. 6There is another point to which I wish to draw your attention. I have already spoken of it. But I wish to insist: trust in God. Trust summarises the theological virtues. Those who trust have faith. Those who trust hope. Those who trust love. When we love, we hope, we believe in a person, we trust. Otherwise we do not. God deserves our trust. If we trust poor men who may fail, 166

why should we not trust God Who can never fail? Trust is also humility. The proud man says: 'I will do it by my­ self. I do not trust him because he is an incapable man, a liar, an overbearing fellow... ' The humble man says: 'I trust him. Why should I not? Why should I think that I am better than he is? ' And more rightly he says of God: 'Why should I mistrust Him Who is so good? Why should I think that I can do it by myself? ' God gives Himself to the humble, but withdraws from the proud. Trust is also obedience. And God loves the obedient man. Obedience implies that we acknowledge ourselves as His chil­ dren and we acknowledge God as our Father. And a father can but love when he is a real father. God is our real Father and a per­ fect Father. 7The third point I want you to consider. It is always based on trust. No event can happen unless God allows it. Are you powerful? You became so, because God permitted it. Are you a subject? You are such, because God permitted it. Endeavour, therefore, pow­ erful one, not to turn your power to your own detriment. It would always be 'your detriment', even if at the beginning, it may ap­ pear detrimental to others. Because if God allows, He does not over-allow, and if you go beyond the mark He will strike you and crush you. Endeavour, therefore, o subject, to make of your con­ dition a magnet that will draw the protection of Heaven upon you. And never curse anyone. Leave that to God's care. It is for Him, the Lord of all, to bless and curse His creatures. Go in peace. » 28. The arrival in Bethlehem. 5th June 1944. 1I see a mein road which is very crowded. Little donkeys, loaded with goods and chattels or with people, are going one way. Other little donkeys are going the opposite way. The people are spurring their mounts and those on foot are walking fast be­ cause it is cold. The air is clear and dry. The sky is serene, but everywhere there is the sharp atmosphere common to winter days. The bar-27. 7 28. 1 167

ren country seems vaster, the short grass in the pastures has been nipped by the winter winds; on the grazing ground, the sheep are looking for some grass and they are also looking for some sunshine, as the sun is rising very slowly. They are stand­ ing very close together one against the other, because they also are cold, and they bleat, lifting their heads and looking at the sun as if they were saying: «Come quick because it is cold! » The ground is undulating and its undulations are becoming clearer and clearer. It is a really hilly place. There are valleys and slopes covered with grass, and ridges. The road runs through the centre and goes south-east. Mary is on a little grey donkey. She is wrapped in a heavy mantle. In front of the saddle there is the fitting already seen in Her journey to Hebron, and on it there is the little trunk with ba­ sic essentials. Joseph is walking on the side holding the reins. «Are you tired? » he asks Her now and again. Mary looks at him smiling and replies: «No, I am not. » The third time She adds: «You must be tired walking. » «Oh! Me! It's nothing for me. I was only thinking that if I had found another donkey You would have been more comfortable, and we could have travelled faster. But I just could not find an­ other one. Everybody needs a mount nowadays. But take heart. We shall soon be in Bethlehem. Ephrathah is beyond that moun­ tain. » They are both silent. The Virgin, when She does not speak, seems to concentrate on internal prayer. She smiles mildly at one of Her thoughts and if She looks at the crowd, She does not seem to see it for what it is: a man, a woman, an old man, a shepherd, a rich or a poor man, but only for what She sees. «Are you cold? » asks Joseph when the wind starts blowing. «No, thank you. » But Joseph is not too happy. He touches Her feet, which are shod in sandals and are hanging down along the side of the don­ key and can hardly be seen coming out from under Her long dress, and he must feel them cold, because he shakes his head and takes a blanket, which he has across his shoulders, and wraps Mary's legs in it and he spreads it also on Her lap, so that Her hands may be kept warm, being covered by the blanket and Her mantle. 168

2They meet a shepherd, who cuts across the road with his herd, moving from the grazing ground on the right-hand side of the road to the one of the left-hand side. Joseph bends down to say something to him. The shepherd nods in assent. Joseph takes the donkey and drags it behind the herd into the grazing ground. The shepherd pulls a coarse bowl out of his knapsack, he milks a big sheep with swollen udders and hands the bowl to Joseph who offers it to Mary. «May God bless you both,» exclaims Mary. «You for your love, and you for your kindness. I will pray for you. » «Are you coming from far? » «From Nazareth, » replies Joseph. «And where are you going? » «To Bethlehem. » «A long journey for a woman in Her state. Is She your wife?» «Yes, She is. » «Have you got a place where to go? » «No, we haven't. » «That's bad! Bethlehem is overcrowded with people who have come from all over to register there, or are on their way to regis­ ter elsewhere. I don't know whether you will find lodgings. Are you familiar with the place? » «Not really. » «Well... I will explain it to you... for Her... (and he points to Mary). Find the hotel, it will be full. But I will tell you just the same, to guide you. It's in the square, in the largest one. This main road will take you to it. You can't miss it. There is a foun­ tain in front of it, it is a long and low building with a very big door. It will be full. But if you do not find room in the hotel, or in any of the houses, go round to the back of the hotel, towards the country. There are some stables in the mountain, which are used sometimes by merchants to keep their animals there, on their way to Jerusalem, when they don't find room in the hotel. They are stables, you know, in the mountain: they are damp and cold and there are no doors. But they are always a shelter, because your wife... She can't be left on the road. Perhaps you will find room there... and some hay to sleep on and for the donkey. And may God guide you. » «And may God give you joy,» answers Mary. Joseph instead28. 2 169

28. 3 28. 4replies: «Peace be with you. » 3They take to the road again. A wider valley can be seen from the crest they have climbed over. In the valley, up and down the soft slopes surrounding it, there are many houses. It is Bethle­ hem. «Here we are in David's land, Mary. Now You will be able to rest. You look so tired... » «No. I was thinking... I think... » Mary gets hold of Joseph's hand and says to him with a blissful smile: «I really think that the time has come. » «O Lord of mercy! What shall we do? » «Don't be afraid, Joseph. Be steady. See how calm I am? » «But You must be suffering a lot. » «Oh! No. I am full of joy. Such a joy, so great, so beautiful, so uncontainable, that My heart is thumping and thumping and it is whispering to Me: 'He is coming! He is coming! ' It says so at each beat. It is My Child knocking at My heart and saying: 'Mother, I am here and I am coming to give You the kiss of God'. Oh! What a joy, My dear Joseph! » But Joseph is not joyful. He is thinking of the urgent need to find a shelter and he quickens his pace. He goes from door to door asking for a room. Nothing. They are all full. They reach the ho­ tel. Even the rustic porches surrounding the large inner yard are full of campers. Joseph leaves Mary on the donkey inside the yard and he goes out looking in other houses. He comes back thoroughly disheart­ ened. He has not found anything. The fast winter twilight is be­ ginning to spread its shadows. Joseph implores the hotel-keeper. He implores also some of the travellers. He points out that they are all healthy men, that there is a woman about to give birth to a child. He begs them to have mercy. Nothing. There is a rich Pharisee who looks at them with obvious con­ tempt and when Mary goes near him, he steps aside as if he had been approached by a leper. Joseph looks at him and his face blushes with disdain. Mary lays Her hand on his wrist to calm him and says: «Don't insist. Let us go. God will provide. » 4They go out and they follow the wall of the hotel. They turn into a little street that runs between the hotel and some poor houses. They then turn behind the hotel. They look for the sta­ 170

bles. At last, here are some grottos, a kind of cellar, I would say, rather than stables, because they are so low and damp. The best have already been taken. Joseph is utterly disheartened. «Ehi! Galilean! » an old man shouts. «Down there, at the end, under those ruins, there is a den. Perhaps there is nobody in it yet. » They hurry to the «den». It is really a den. Among the ruins of an old building there is a hole, beyond which there is a grotto, an excavation in the mountain, rather than a grotto. It seems to con­ sist of the foundations of the old building, with the roof formed by rubble supported by coarse tree trunks. There is hardly any light, and to see better Joseph pulls out tinder and flint and he lights a little lamp that he takes out of the knapsack he is carrying across his shoulders. He goes in and is greeted by a bellow. «Come in, Mary. It is empty. There is only an ox. » Joseph smiles. «It's better than nothing!... » 5Mary dismounts from Her donkey and goes in. Joseph has hung the little lamp on a nail of one of the sup­ porting trunks. They see the vault covered with cobwebs, the soil — stamped ramshackle earth, with holes, rubbish, excrement — the soil is strewn with straw. In the rear, an ox turns its head round and looks with its large quiet eyes while some hay is hang­ ing from its lips. There is a rough seat and two big stones in a cor­ ner near a loop-hole. The black remains in that corner is a clear sign that a fire is normally lit there. Mary goes near the ox. She is cold. She puts Her hands on its neck to feel its warmth. The ox bellows but does not stir. It seems to understand. Also when Joseph pushes it aside to take a large quantity of hay from the manger and make a bed for Mary, the ox remains calm and quiet. The manger is a double one: that is, there is one out of which the ox eats, and above it there is a kind of shelf, with some spare hay, which Joseph pulls down. The ox makes room also for the little donkey that, tired and hungry as it is, starts eating at once. Joseph discovers also a battered bucket, turned upside down. He goes out, because he saw a little stream outside, and he comes back with some water for the little donkey. He then finds a bunch of twigs in a corner and he tries to sweep the floor with it. He next spreads the hay and makes a bed with it near the ox, in the28. 5 171

28. 6most sheltered and dry corner. But he realizes that the poor hay is damp, and he sighs. He then lights a fire, and with the patience of job, he dries the hay, a handful at a time, holding it near the fire. Mary is sitting on the stool, She is tired, She watches and smiles. The hay is now ready. Mary sits down more comfortably on the soft hay, with Her back leaning against one of the tree trunks. Joseph completes... the furnishings by hanging his man­ tle as a curtain on the hole that serves as a door. It is a makeshift protection. He then offers some bread and cheese to the Virgin, and he gives Her some water out of a flask. «Sleep now,» he says. «I will sit up and watch that the fire does not go out. There is some wood, fortunately, let us hope that it will burn and last. Thus I will be able to save the oil of the lamp. » Mary lies down obediently. Joseph covers Her with Her own mantle and with the blanket that She had around Her feet earlier. «But you... you will be cold. » «No, Mary. I'll be near the fire. Try and rest now. Things will be better tomorrow. » Mary closes Her eyes without insisting. Joseph creeps into his little corner, sits on the stool, with some dry twigs near him. They are very few. I do not think they will last long. They are placed as follows: Mary is on the right hand side, with Her back to the... door, half hidden by the tree trunk and the ox which has lain down on the litter. Joseph is on the left side, towards the door, and since he is facing the fire, his back is turned towards Mary. But he turns round now and again to look at Her, and he sees She is lying quietly, as if She were sleeping. He breaks the little sticks as quietly as possible and throws them one at a time onto the little fire, so that it may not go out and may give some light and yet make the wood last longer. There is only the dim light of the fire: at times bright at times very faint. The lamp in fact has been put out and in the half light only the whiteness of the ox and of Joseph's hands and face can be seen. All the rest is a confused mass in the dull dim light. 6«There is no dictation, » says Mary. «The vision speaks for it­ self. It is for you to understand the lesson of charity, humility and purity emanating from it. Rest. Rest watching, as I used to keep watch waiting for Jesus. He will come to bring you His peace. » 172

29. The birth of Jesus. The divine maternity of Mary: redemption of Eve's sin. 6th June 1944. 1I still see the inside of the poor stony shelter, where Mary and 29. 1 Joseph have found refuge, sharing the lot of some animals. The little fire is dozing together with its guardian. Mary lifts Her head slowly from Her bed and looks around. She sees that Joseph's head is bowed over his chest, as if he were meditat­ ing, and She thinks that his good intention to remain awake has been overcome by tiredness. She smiles lovingly and making less noise than a butterfly alighting on a rose, She sits up and then goes on Her knees. She prays with a blissful smile on Her face. She prays with Her arms stretched out, almost in the shape of a cross, with the palms of Her hands facing up and forward, and She never seems to tire in that position. She then prostrates Her­ self with Her face on the hay, in an even more ardent prayer. A long prayer. Joseph stirs. He notices that the fire is almost out and the sta­ ble almost dark. He throws a handful of very slender heath on to the fire and the flames are revived, he then adds some thicker twigs and finally some sticks, because the cold is really biting: the cold of a serene winter night that comes into the ruins from everywhere. Poor Joseph must be frozen sitting as he is near the door, if we can call a door the hole where Joseph's mantle serves as a curtain, He warms his hands near the fire, then He takes his sandals off and warms his feet. When the fire is blazing gaily and its light is steady, he turns around. But he does not see any­ thing, not even Mary's white veil that formed a clear line on the dark hay. He gets up and slowly moves towards Her pallet. «Are You not sleeping, Mary? » he asks. He asks Her three times until She turns round and replies: «I am praying. » «Is there anything you need? » «No, Joseph. » «Try and sleep a little. At least try and rest. » «I will try. But I don't get tired praying. » «God be with You, Mary. » «And with you, Joseph. » 173

29. 2Mary resumes Her position. Joseph to avoid falling asleep, goes on his knees near the fire and prays. He prays with his hands pressed against his face. He removes them now and again to feed the fire and then he resumes his ardent prayer. Apart from the noise of the crackling sticks and the noise made now and again by the donkey stamping its hooves on the ground, no other sound is heard. 2A thin ray of moonlight creeps in through a crack in the vault and it seems like a blade of unearthly silver looking for Mary. It stretches in length as the moon climbs higher in the sky and at last reaches Her. It is now on Her head, where it forms a halo of pure light. Mary lifts Her head, as if She had a celestial call, and She gets up and goes onto Her knees again. Oh! How beautiful it is here now! She raises Her head, and Her face shines in the white moon­ light and becomes transfigured by a supernatural smile. What does She see? What does She hear? What does She feel? She is the only one who can tell what She saw, heard and felt in the reful­ gent hour of Her Maternity. I can only see that the light around Her is increasing more and more. It seems to come down from Heaven, to arise from the poor things around Her, above all it seems to originate from Herself. Her deep blue dress now seems of a pale myosotis blue, and Her hands and face are becoming clear blue as if they were placed under the glare of a huge pale sapphire. This hue is spreading more and more on the things around Her, it covers them, puri­ fies them and brightens everything. It reminds me, although it is somewhat softer, of the hue I see in the vision of holy Paradise, and also of the colour I saw in the visit of the Wise Men. The light is given off more and more intensely from Mary's body, it absorbs the moonlight. She seems to be drawing to Her­ self all the light that can descend from Heaven. She is now the Depositary of the Light. She is to give this Light to the world. And this blissful, uncontainable, immeasurable, eternal, divine Light which is about to be given, is heralded by a dawn, a morn­ ing star, a chorus of atoms of Light that increase continuously like a tide, and rise more and more like incense, and descend like a large stream and stretch out like veils... The vault, full of crevices, of cobwebs, of protruding rub-174

ble balanced by a miracle of physics, the dark, smoky repellant vault, now seems like the ceiling of a royal hall. Each boulder is a block of silver, each crack an opal flash, each cobweb a most pre­ cious canopy interwoven with silver and diamonds. A huge green lizard, hibernating between two stones, seems like an emerald jewel forgotten there by a queen: and a bunch of hibernating bats is like a precious onyx chandelier. The hay from the upper man­ ger is no longer grass blades: it is pure silver wires quivering in the air with the grace of loose hair. The dark wood of the lower manger is a block of burnished silver. The walls are covered with a brocade in which the white silk disappears under the pearly embroidery of the relief, and the soil... what is the soil now? It is a crystal lit up by a white light. Its protrusions are like roses thrown in homage of the soil; the holes are precious cups from which perfumes and scents are to arise. 3And the light increases more and more. It is now unbearable to the eye. And the Virgin disappears in so much light, as if She had been absorbed by an incandescent curtain... and the Mother emerges. Yes. When the light becomes endurable once again to my eyes, I see Mary with the new-born Son in Her arms. A little Baby, rosy and plump, bustling with His little hands as big as rose buds and kicking with His tiny feet that could be contained in the hollow of the heart of a rose: and is crying with a thin trembling voice, just like a new-born little lamb, opening His pretty little mouth that resembles a wild strawberry, and showing a tiny tongue that trembles against the rosy roof of His mouth. And He moves His little head that is so blond that it seems without any hair, a lit­ tle round head that His Mummy holds in the hollow of Her hand, while She looks at Her Baby and adores Him weeping and smil­ ing at the same time, and She bends down to kiss Him not on His innocent head, but on the centre of His chest, where underneath there is His little heart beating for us... where one day there will be the Wound. And His Mother is doctoring that wound in ad­ vance, with Her immaculate kiss. The ox, woken up by the dazzling light, gets up with a great noise of hooves and bellows, the donkey turns its head round and brays. It is the light that rouses them but I love to think that they wanted to greet their Creator, both for themselves and on behalf29. 3 175

29. 4of all the animals. 4Also Joseph, who almost enraptured, was praying so ardent­ ly as to be isolated from what was around him, now rouses and he sees a strange light filter through the fingers of his hands pressed against his face. He removes his hands, lifts his head and turns round. The ox, standing as it is, hides Mary. But She calls him: «Joseph, come. » Joseph rushes. And when he sees, he stops, struck by rever­ ence, and he is about to fall on his knees where he is. But Mary insists: «Come, Joseph» and She leans on the hay with Her left hand and, holding the Child close to Her heart with Her right one, She gets up and moves towards Joseph, who is walking em­ barrassed, because of a conflict in him between his desire to go and his fear of being irreverent. They meet at the foot of the straw bed and they look at each other, weeping blissfully. «Come, let us offer Jesus to the Father,» says Mary. And while Joseph kneels down, She stands up between two trunks support­ ing the vault, She lifts up Her Creature in Her arms and says: «Here I am. On His behalf, O God, I speak these words to You: here I am to do Your will. And I, Mary, and My spouse, Joseph, with Him. Here are Your servants, O Lord. May Your will always be done by us, in every hour, in every event, for Your glory and Your love. » Then Mary bends down and says: «Here, Joseph, take Him», and offers him the Child. «What! I?... Me?... Oh, no! I am not worthy! » Joseph is utterly dumbfounded at the idea of having to touch God. But Mary insists smiling: «You are well worthy. No one is more worthy than you are, and that is why the Most High chose you. Take Him, Joseph, and hold Him while I look for the linen. » Joseph, blushing almost purple, stretches his arms out and takes the Baby, Who is screaming because of the cold and when he has Him in his arms, he no longer persists in the intention of holding Him far from himself, out of respect, but he presses Him to his heart and bursts into tears exclaiming: «Oh! Lord! My God! » And he bends down to kiss His tiny feet and feels them cold. He then sits on the ground, and holds Him close to his chest and with his brown tunic and his hands he tries to cover Him, 176

and warm Him, defending Him from the bitterly cold wind of the night. He would like to go near the fire, but there is a cold draft coming in from the door. It is better to stay where he is. No, it is better to go between the two animals which serve as a protection against the air and give out warmth. Thus, he goes between the ox and the donkey, with his back to the door, bending over the New-Born to form with his body a shelter, the two sides of which are a grey head with long ears, and a huge white muzzle with a steaming nose and two gentle soft eyes. 5Mary has opened the trunk and has pulled out the linen and swaddling clothes. She has been near the fire warming them. She now moves towards Joseph and wraps the Baby with the warm linen and then with Her veil to protect His little head. «Where shall we put Him now? » She asks. Joseph looks around, thinking... «Wait,» he says. «Let us move the animals and their hay over here, we will then pull down that hay up there and arrange it in here. The wood on the side will protect Him from the air, the hay will serve as a pillow and the ox will warm Him a little with its breath. The ox is better than the donkey. It is more patient and quiet. » And he bustles about, while Mary is lulling the Baby, holding Him close to Her heart, and laying Her cheek on His tiny head to warm it. Joseph makes the fire, without economy this time, to have a good blaze, and he warms the hay and as it dries, he keeps it near his chest, so that it will not get cold. Then, when he has gath­ ered enough to make a little mattress for the Child, he goes to the manger and sorts it out as if it were a cradle. «It is ready, » he says. «Now we need a blanket, because the hay stings, and also to cover Him. » «Take My mantle, » says Mary. «You will be cold. » «Oh! It does not matter! The blanket is too coarse. The man­ tle is soft and warm. I am not cold at all. Don't let Him suffer any longer! » Joseph takes the wide mantle of soft dark blue wool, he double folds it and lays it on the hay, leaving a strip hanging out of the manger. The first bed for the Saviour is ready. And the Mother, with Her sweet, graceful gait, moves to the manger, lays Him in it, and covers Him with the strip of Her 17729. 5

29. 6 29. 7 29. 8mantle. She arranges it also around His bare head, almost com­ pletely covered by the hay, from which it is protected only by Mary's thin veil. Only His little face, the size of a man's fist, is left uncovered. Mary and Joseph, bending over the manger, are blissfully happy watching Him sleep His first sleep, because the warmth of the clothes and of the hay has appeased His crying, and made Him sleepy. 6Mary says: «I promised you that He would come to bring you His peace. Do you remember the peace you enjoyed at Christmas! When you saw Me with My Child? Then it was your time of peace. Now it is your time of pain. But you know by now. It is by means of pain that we achieve peace and every grace for ourselves and our neighbours. Jesus-Man became Jesus-God again, after the tre­ mendous suffering of His Passion. He became Peace, once more. Peace from Heaven, from where He had come and from where He now pours out His peace for those who love Him in the world. But in the hours of His Passion, He, Peace of the world, was deprived of that peace. He would not have suffered if He had had it. And He had to suffer: and to suffer excruciatingly, to the very end. 7I, Mary, redeemed woman by means of My divine Maternity. But that was only the beginning of woman's redemption. By re­ fusing a human marriage in accordance with My vow of virgin­ ity, I had rejected all lustful satisfactions, thus deserving grace from God. But it was not yet sufficient, because Eve's sin was a four branched tree: pride, avarice, gluttony and lust. And all four were to be cut off, before making the roots of the tree sterile. 8By deeply humiliating Myself, I defeated pride. I abased Myself before everybody. I am not referring to My humility towards God. Such humility is due to the Most High by every creature. Even His Word had it. It was necessary for Me, a woman, to have it. But have you ever considered what hu­ miliation I had to suffer from men, without defending Myself in any way? Even Joseph, who was a just man, had accused Me in his heart. The others, who were not just, had committed a sin of murmuring with regards to My condition, and the rumour of their words had come like a bitter wave to break up against My humanity. And they were the first of the infinite humiliations I 178

was to suffer in My life as Mother of Jesus and of mankind. Hu­ miliations of poverty, of a refugee, humiliations for reproaches of relatives and friends who, being unaware of the truth, judged Me a weak woman with regard to My behaviour as a Mother towards Jesus, when He was a young man, humiliations during the three years of His public life, cruel humiliations in the hour of Calvary, humiliation in having to admit that I could not afford to buy a place and the perfumes for the burial of my Son. 9I overcame the avarice of the First Parents renouncing My Creature before the time. A mother never renounces her creature unless she is forced to. Whether her heart is asked to renounce her creature by her coun­ try or by the love of a spouse or even by God Himself, she will resent and struggle against the separation. It is natural. A son grows in our womb and the tie that links him to us can never be completely broken. Even if the umbilical cord is cut, there is a nerve that always remains: it departs from the mother's heart and is grafted into the son's heart: it is a spiritual nerve, more lively and sensitive than a physical one. And a mother feels it stretching even to exceedingly severe pangs if the love of God or of a crea­ ture or the need of the country take her son away from her. And it breaks, tearing her heart, if death snatches her son from her. And I renounced My Son from the very moment I had Him. I gave Him to God. I gave Him to you. I deprived Myself of the Fruit of My womb to make amends for Eve's theft of God's fruit. 10I defeated gluttony, both of knowledge and of enjoyment, by agreeing to know only what God wanted Me to know, without asking Myself or Him more than what I was told. I believed un­ questioningly. I overcame the innate personal delight of enjoy­ ment because I denied Myself every sensual pleasure. I confined flesh, the instrument of Satan, together with Satan, under My heel and made of them a step to rise towards Heaven. Heaven! My aim. Where God was. My only hunger. A hunger which is not gluttony, but a necessity blessed by God, Who wants us to crave for Him. 11I defeated lust, which is gluttony carried to the extreme of greed. Because every unrestrained vice leads to a bigger vice. And Eve's gluttony, which was already blameworthy, led her to lust. It was no longer enough for her to enjoy pleasure by her-29. 9 29. 10 29. 11 179

29. 12self. She wanted to take her crime to a refined intensity and thus she became acquainted with lust and was a mistress of lust for her companion. I reversed the terms and instead of descending I have always ascended. Instead of causing other people to de­ scend, I have always attracted them towards Heaven: of My hon­ est companion, I made an angel. Now that I possessed God and His infinite wealth with Him, I hastened to denude Myself of it saying: 'Here I am: may Your will be done for Him and by Him'. He is chaste who not only chastises his flesh but also his affections and his thoughts. I had to be the Chaste One in order to annul the One who had been Unchaste in her flesh, her heart and her mind. And I never abandoned My reservedness, not even by saying of My Son: 'He is Mine, I want Him', since He belonged only to Me on earth, as He belonged only to God in Heaven. 12And yet all this was not sufficient to achieve for woman the peace lost by Eve. I obtained that for you at the foot of the Cross: when I saw Him dying, Whom you saw being born. When I felt My bowels being torn apart by the cry of My dying Creature, I became void of all femininity. I was no longer flesh, but an an­ gel. Mary, the Virgin Spouse of the Spirit, died that moment. The Mother of Grace remained, Who gave you the Grace She gener­ ated from Her torture. The female reconsecrated 'woman' by me on Christmas night, achieved at the foot of the Cross the means to become a creature of Heaven. This I did for you, depriving Myself of all satisfactions, even of holy ones. And whereas you had been reduced by Eve to fe­ males not superior to the mates of animals, I made of you, if you only wish so, saints of God. I ascended for you. As I had done for Joseph, I lifted you higher up. The rock of Calvary is My Mount of Olives. From there I took My leap to carry to Heaven the re­ sanctified soul of woman together with My flesh, now glorified because it had borne the Word of God and had destroyed in Me the very last trace of Eve. It had destroyed the last root of that tree with four poisonous branches, a root stuck in the sensual­ ity that had dragged mankind to fall and that will go on biting at your intestines until the end of time and to the last woman. From there, where I now shine in the ray of Love, I call you and I show you the Medicine to control yourselves: the Grace of My Lord and 180

the Blood of My Son. 13And you, My voice, rest your soul in the light of this dawn of Jesus, to gain strength for the future crucifixions which will not be spared you, because we want you here and one comes here through pain, because we want you here and the higher one comes the more one has suffered to obtain Grace for the world. Go in peace. I am with you. » 30. The adoration of the shepherds, the first worshippers of the Word Who had become God. 7th June 1944. Eve of Corpus Christi. [... ] 1Later I see a very wide country. The moon is at its zenith and it is sailing smoothly in a sky crowded with stars. They look like diamond studs fixed to a huge canopy of dark blue velvet and the moon is smiling in the middle of them with her big white face, from which streams of light descend and make the earth white. The barren trees seem taller and darker against so white a ground, whereas the low walls, which rise here and there on the boundaries, look as white as milk and a little house far away seems like a block of Carrara marble. On my right I see a place enclosed by a thorn-bush hedge on two sides and by a low rugged wall on the other two. The wall supports a kind of low wide shed, which inside the enclosure is built in masonry and part in wood, as if in the summer the wood­ en part should be removed and the shed should become a porch. From the enclosure intermittent short bleatings can be heard now and again. It must be the little sheep which dream or per­ haps sense that it is almost daybreak because of the very bright moonlight. The brightness is intense to an excessive degree and it is increasing more and more as if the planet were coming near the earth or were sparkling because of a mysterious fire. 2A shepherd looks out of the door, and lifting one arm to his forehead to shield his eyes, he looks up. It seems unlikely that one should protect one's eyes from moonlight. But the moonlight in this case is so bright that it blinds people, particularly those who come out from a dark enclosure. Everything is calm. But the 18129. 13 30. 1 30. 2

30. 3bright moonlight is surprising. The shepherd calls his companions. They all come to the door: a group of hairy men of various ages. Some are just teenagers, some are already white haired. They comment on the strange event and the younger ones are afraid. One in particular, a boy about twelve years old, starts crying, and the older shepherds jeer at him. «What are you afraid of, you fool? » the oldest man says to him. «Can't you see that the air is very quiet? Have you never seen clear moonlight? You have always been tied to your moth­ er's apron strings, haven't you? But there are many things for you to see! Once, I had gone as far as the Lebanon mountains, even farther. High up. I was young, and walking was a pleasure. And I was also rich, then... one night I saw such a bright light that I thought Elijah was about to come back in his chariot of fire. And an old man — he was the old man then — said to me: A great ad­ venture is about to take place in the world'. It was for us a misad­ venture, because the Roman soldiers came. Oh! Many things you will see, if you live... long enough. » 3But the little shepherd is no longer listening to him. He looks as if he is no longer frightened, because he leaves the threshold and steals from behind the shoulders of a brawny herdsman, be­ hind whom he had previously sought shelter, and goes out onto the grassy fold in front of the shed. He looks up and walks about like a sleep-walker or one hypnotised by something that compel­ lingly attracts him. At one point he shouts: «Oh! » and remains petrified with his arms slightly stretched out. His friends look at one another dumbfounded. «But what is the matter with the fool? » says one. «I will send him back to his mother tomorrow. I don't want mad people as guardians of the sheep, » says another. And the old man who had spoken earlier says: «Let us go and see before we judge him. Call also the others who are sleeping and bring your sticks. It might be a wild animal or some robber... » They go in, they call the other shepherds and they come out with torches and clubs. They join the boy. «There, there, » he whispers smiling. «Above the tree, look at that light. It seems to be walking along the ray of the moon. There it is, it is coming near. How beautiful it is! » 182

«I can only see a rather brighter light. » «So can I. » «So can I, » say the others. «No. I see something like a body, » says one whom I recognise to be the shepherd who gave the milk to Mary. «It is... it is an angel, » shouts the boy. «Here he is, he is com­ ing down, he is coming near... Down! On your knees before the angel of God! » A long and venerable «Oh! » comes from the group of shep­ herds, who fall down face to the ground and the older they are, the more they appear to be crushed by the refulgent apparition. The young ones are on their knees, looking at the angel who is coming nearer and nearer, and then he stops mid-air above the enclosure wall, waving his large wings, a pearly brightness in the white moonlight surrounding him. «Do not fear. I am not bringing you misfortune. I announce a great joy for the people of Israel and for all the people of the world. » The angelic voice is the harmony of a harp and of singing nightingales. «Today, in the City of David, the Saviour has been born. » In saying so, the angel spreads out his wings wider and wider, mov­ ing them as a sign of overwhelming joy, and a stream of golden sparks and precious stones seem to fall from them: a real rain­ bow creating a triumphal arch above the poor shed. «... the Saviour, Who is Christ. » The angel shines with a brighter light. His two wings, now motionless, pointed upright towards the sky like two still sails on the sapphire of the sea, seem like two bright flames ascending to Heaven. «... Christ, the Lord!» The angel gathers his sparkling wings and covers himself with them as if they were a coat of diamonds on a dress of pearls, he bows down in adoration, with his arms crossed over his heart, while his head bent down as it is, disap­ pears in the shade of the tops of the folded wings. Only an oblong bright motionless shape can be seen for a few moments. But now he stirs. He spreads out his wings, lifts his head, bright with a heavenly smile, and says: «You will recognise Him from the following signs: in a poor stable, behind Bethlehem, you will find a baby in swaddling clothes, in a manger for animals, because no roof was found for the Messiah in the city of David. » 183

30. 4 30. 5The angel becomes serious, almost sad, in saying that. 4But from the Heavens many angels — oh! how many! — come down, all like him, a ladder of angels descending and rejoic­ ing and dimming the moonlight with their heavenly brightness. They all gather round the announcing angel, fluttering their wings, exhaling perfumes, playing notes in which the most beau­ tiful voices of creation find a recollection, but elevated to uni­ form perfection. If painting is the expression of matter to become light, here melody is the expression of music to give men a hint of the beauty of God. To hear this melody is to know Paradise, where everything is harmony of love which emanates from God to make the blessed souls happy, and then from them returns to God to say to Him: «We love You! » The angelical «Glory» spreads throughout the quiet country in wider and wider circles and the bright light with it. And the birds join their singing to greet the early light, and the sheep add their bleatings for the early sun. But, as previously in the grotto for the ox and the donkey, I love to believe that the animals are greeting their Creator, Who has come down among them to love them both as a Man and as God. The singing slowly fades away, as well as the light, and the an­ gels ascend to Heaven... 5... The shepherds come back to reality. «Did you hear? » «Shall we go and see? » «And what about the animals? » «Oh! Nothing will happen to them! We are going to obey God's word!... » «But where shall we go? » «Didn't he say that He was born today? And that they did not find lodgings in Bethlehem? » It's the shepherd who gave the milk, who is speaking now. «Come with me, I know where He is. I saw the woman and I felt sorry for Her. I told them where to go, for Her sake, because I thought they might not find lodgings, and I gave the man some milk for Her. She is so young and beautiful, and She must be as good and kind as the angel who spoke to us. Come. Let us go and get some milk, cheese, lambs and tanned hides. They must be very poor... and I wonder how cold He must be Whose name I dare not mention! And imagine! I spoke to the 184

Mother as I would have spoken to a poor wife!... » They go into the shed and they come out shortly afterwards, some with little flasks of milk, some with little nets interwoven with matureed containing small whole round cheeses, some with baskets, each containing a little bleating lamb and some with tanned hides. «I am taking them a sheep. She lambed a month ago. Her milk is very good. It will be useful if the woman should have no milk. She seemed a young girl to me and so pale! A jasmine face in moonlight,» says the shepherd who gave the milk. And he leads them. 6They set out in the moonlight aided by their torches, after closing the shed and the enclosure. They go along country paths, among thorn-bush hedges stripped by winter. They go round Bethlehem. They reach the stable not the way Mary came, but from the opposite direction, so that they do not pass in front of the better stables, instead they find this one first. They go near the entrance. «Go in! » «I wouldn't dare! » «You go in! » «No. » «At least have a look. » «You, Levi, who saw the angel first, obviously because you are better than we are, look in. » Before they said he was mad.... but now it suits them if he dare what they do not. The boy hesitates, but then he makes up his mind. He goes near the hole, pulls the mantle a little to one side, looks... and re­ mains enraptured. «What can you see? » they ask him anxiously in low voices. «I can see a beautiful young woman and a man bending over a manger and I can hear... I can hear a little baby crying, and the woman is speaking to Him in a voice... oh! what a voice! » «What is She saying? » «She is saying: 'Jesus, little one! Jesus, love of Your Mummy! Don't cry, little Son'. She is saying: 'Oh! If I could only say to You: «Take some milk, little one». But I have not got any yet'. She says: 'You are so cold, My love! And the hay is stinging You! How pain­ ful it is for Your Mummy to hear You crying so, without being30. 6 185

able to help You! ' She says: 'Sleep, soul of Mine! Because it breaks My heart to hear You crying and see Your tears! ' and She kisses Him, and She must be warming His little feet with Her hands, because She is bent with Her arms in the manger. » «Call Her! Let them hear you. » «I won't. You should call Her, because you brought us here and you know Her! » The shepherd opens his mouth, but he only utters a faint moaning noise. 7Joseph turns round and comes to the door. «Who are you? » «Shepherds. We brought you some food and some wool. We have come to worship the Saviour. » «Come in. » They go in, and the stable becomes brighter because of the light of the torches. The older men push the young ones in front of them. Mary turns round and smiles. «Come,» She says. «Come!», and She invites them with Her hand and Her smile, and She takes the boy who saw the angel and She draws him to Herself, against the manger. And the boy looks, and is happy. The others, invited also by Joseph, move forward with their gifts and they place them at Mary's feet with few deep-felt words. They then look at the Baby Who is weeping a little and they smile moved and happy. And one of them, somewhat bolder than the rest, says: «Moth­ er, take this wool. It's soft and clean. I prepared it for my child who is about to be born. But I offer it to You. Lay your Son in this wool. It will be soft and warm. » And he offers the sheep hide, a beautiful hide, well covered with soft white wool. Mary lifts Jesus, and puts it around Him. And She shows Him to the shepherds, who, kneeling on the hay on the ground, look at Him ecstatically! One of the boldest says: «He should be given a mouthful of milk, better still, some water and honey. But we have no honey. We give it to little babies. I have seven children, and I know... » «There is some milk here. Take it, Woman. » «But it is cold. It should be warm. Where is Elias? He has the sheep. » Elias must be the shepherd who gave the milk. But he is not 18630. 7

there. He remained outside and is looking from the hole, but he cannot be seen in the dark night. «Who led you here? » «An angel told us to come, and Elias showed us the way. But where is he now? » The sheep declares his presence with a bleat. «Come in. You are wanted. » He enters with his sheep, embarrassed because they all look at him. «It's you! » says Joseph, who recognises him, and Mary smiles at him saying: «You are good. » They milk the sheep and with the hem of a piece of linen dipped into the warm creamy milk, Mary moistens the lips of the Baby Who sucks the sweet cream. They all smile, and even more so, when Jesus falls asleep in the warmth of the wool, with the little bit of linen still between His lips. 8«But You can't stay here. It's cold and damp. And... there is 30. 8 too strong a smell of animals. It's not good... it's not good for the Saviour. » «I know, » replies Mary with a deep sigh. «But there is no room for us in Bethlehem. » «Take heart, Woman. We will look for a house for You. » «I will tell my mistress, » says Elias. «She is good. She will re­ ceive You, even if she had to give You her own room. As soon as it, is daylight, I will tell her. Her house is full of people. But she will find room for You. » «For My Child, at least. Joseph and I can lie on the floor. But for the Little One... » «Don't worry, Woman. I will see to it. And we will tell many people what we were told. You will lack nothing. For the time be­ ing, take what our poverty can give You. We are shepherds... » «We are poor, too. And we cannot reward you, » says Joseph. «Oh! We don't want it. Even if You could afford it, we would not want it. The Lord has already rewarded us. He promised peace to everybody. The angels said: 'Peace to men of goodwill'. But He has already given it to us, because the angel said that this Child is the Saviour, Who is Christ, the Lord. We are poor and ig­ norant, but we know that the Prophets say that the Saviour will be the Prince of Peace. And he told us to come and adore Him. 187

30. 9That is why He gave us His peace. Glory be to God in the Most High Heaven and glory to His Christ here, and You are blessed, Woman, Who gave birth to Him: You are holy, because You de­ served to bear Him! Give us orders as our Queen, because we will be happy to serve You. What can we do for You? » «You can love My Son, and always cherish the same thoughts as you have now. » «But what about You? Is there anything You wish? Have You no relatives whom You would like to inform that He has been born? » «Yes, I have them. But they are far away. They are at He­ bron... » «I will go, » says Elias. «Who are they? » «Zacharias, the priest, and My cousin Elizabeth. » «Zacharias? Oh! I know him well. In summer I go up those mountains because the pastures are rich and beautiful, and I am a friend of his shepherd. When I know you are settled, I will go to Zacharias. » «Thank you, Elias. » «You need not thank me. It is a great honour for me, a poor shepherd, to go and speak to the priest and say to him: 'The Sav­ iour has been born'. » «No. You must say to him: 'Your cousin, Mary of Nazareth, has said that Jesus has been born, and that you should come to Bethlehem'. » «I will say that. » «May God reward you. 9I will remember you, Elias, and every one of you. » «Will You tell Your Baby about us? » «I certainly will. » «I am Elias. » «And I am Levi. » «And I am Samuel. » «And I Jonah. » «And I Isaac. » «And I Tobias. » «And I Jonathan. » «And I Daniel. » «And I Simeon. » 188

«My name is John. » «I am Joseph and my brother Benjamin, we are twins. » «I will remember your names. » «We must go... But we will come back... And we will bring others to worship Him. » «How can we go back to the sheep-fold, leaving the Child? » «Glory be to God Who has shown Him to us! » «Will You let us kiss His dress? » asks Levi, with an angelic smile. And Mary lifts Jesus slowly, and sitting on the hay, wraps the tiny little feet in linen, and offers them to be kissed. And the shepherds bow down to the ground and kiss the tiny feet, veiled by the linen. Those with a beard clean it first; almost everyone is crying, and when they have to go, they walk out backwards, leaving their hearts there... The vision ends in this way, with Mary sitting on the straw with the Child on Her lap and Joseph who, leaning with his el­ bow on the manger, looks and adores. 10Jesus says: «I will speak today. You are very tired, but have a little more patience. It is the eve of Corpus Christi. I could speak to you about the Eucharist and the saints who became apostles of Its cult, as. I spoke to you of the saints who were apostles of the Sacred Heart. But I want to speak to you of something else and of a class of wor­ shippers of My Body who are the forerunners of Its cult. That is: the shepherds. They were the first worshippers of My Body of the Word, Who had become Man. Once I told you and also My Church says this, the Holy In­ nocents are the protomartyrs of Christ. Now I tell you that the shepherds are the first worshippers of the Body of God. And they have all the qualifications to be the worshippers of My Body, o Eucharistic souls. Firm faith : they believe the angel promptly and unquestion­ ingly. Generosity : they give all their wealth to their Lord. Humility: they approach people, who from the human point of view, are poorer than they, and they do so with a modest attitude30. 10 189

30. 11 31. 1that does not humiliate them, and they profess themselves their servants. Desire : what they are unable to offer, they endeavour to ob­ tain by means of charitable work. Prompt obedience: Mary wishes to inform Zacharias and Eli­ as goes at once. He does not postpone the matter. Love finally: they suffer in departing from the grotto and you say: 'They leave their hearts there'. And you are right. But should the same not happen with My Sacrament? 11And there is another point, and it is entirely for you: note to whom the angel reveals himself first and who deserves to hear Mary's love effusions. Levi: the boy. God shows Himself to those who have a child's soul and He shows them also His mysteries and allows them to hear His di­ vine words and Mary's. And those with a child's soul have also Levi's holy daring and they say: 'Let us kiss Jesus' dress'. They say that to Mary. Because it is always Mary Who gives you Jesus. She is the Bearer of the Eucharist. She is the Living Pyx. He who goes to Mary, finds Me. He who asks Her for Me re­ ceives Me from Her. When a creature says to Mary: 'Give me Your Jesus that I may love Him', My Mother's smile causes Heaven's colours to change into a more lively brightness because of its greater delight. Say, therefore, to Her: 'Let me kiss Jesus' dress, let me kiss His wounds'. And dare even more: 'Let me rest my head on Your Je­ sus' Heart, that I may delight in It'. Come. And rest. Like Jesus in His cradle, between Jesus and Mary. » 31. Zacharias' visit. The holiness of Joseph and the obedience to the priests. 8th June 1944. 1I see the big room where I have already seen the meeting of the Magi with Jesus and their adoration. I understand that I am in the hospitable house where the Holy Family has been received. And I see Zacharias' arrival. Elizabeth is not there. The landlady runs out into the lobby to meet the arriving 190

guest and she shows him to a door. She knocks, and then with­ draws discreetly. Joseph opens the door, and he utters a cry of joy when he sees Zacharias. He takes him into a little room, as small as a corridor. «Mary is suckling the Child. She will not be long. Sit down, you must be tired. » And he makes room for his guest on his couch, and sits beside him. I hear Joseph asking after little John and Zacharias replies: «He is growing as strong as a little colt. But he is teething now and he is suffering a little. That is why we did not want to bring him. It is very cold, and that is why Elizabeth did not come either. She could not leave him without milk. She was very upset, but the season is so rigorous! » «It is rigorous indeed, » replies Joseph. «The man you sent me told me that you were homeless when He was born. You must have suffered a lot. » «Yes, quite a lot. But our fears were greater than our discom­ fort. We were afraid the Child's health might be injured. And we had to stay there for the first days. We lacked nothing, for our­ selves, because the shepherds gave the good news to the people of Bethlehem, and many of them brought us gifts. But we had no house, not even a decent room, a bed... and Jesus cried so much, particularly at night, because the wind was blowing in from all directions. I used to light a little fire. Only a little one, because the smoke made Jesus cough... and it was still cold in any case. Two animals do not give out much heat, especially when the cold air comes in from all directions! We had no warm water to wash Him, nor dry clothes to change Him. Yes, He suffered quite a lot! And Mary suffered seeing Him suffer. I suffered.. so you can im­ agine His Mother's anguish! She fed Him with milk and tears, milk and love... Now here it is much better. I had made such a comfortable cradle for Him and Mary had fitted it with a soft lit­ tle mattress. But it is in Nazareth! Ah! If He were born there, it would have been different! » «But Christ was to be born in Bethlehem. It was prophesied. » 2Mary comes in, She heard their voices. She is all dressed in white wool. She has taken off the dark dress She was wearing during the journey and in the grotto, and She is all white, as I have seen Her dressed before. She is not wearing anything on 19131. 2

31. 3 31. 4Her head, and She is holding Jesus in Her arms: He is sleeping, sated with milk, in His pure white swaddling clothes. Zacharias stands up reverently and bows down in veneration. He then goes nearer, and looks at Jesus with the greatest respect. He bends down, not so much to see Him better, as to pay Him homage. Mary offers the Child to him, and Zacharias takes Him with such adoration that he seems to be holding up a monstrance. It is in fact the Host that he takes in his hands, the Host already offered and that will be sacrificed after being given to men as a nourishment of love and redemption. Zacharias hands Jesus back to Mary. 3They all sit down, and Zacharias explains once again to Mary the reason why Elizabeth has not come and how upset she was. «During the past months she has prepared some linen for Your blessed Son. I have brought them to You. They are downstairs in the waggon. » He rises and goes out, then comes back with a large parcel and a smaller one. Joseph relieves him of the heavier one and Zacha­ rias starts pulling his gifts from both of them: a soft handwo­ ven woollen blanket, some linen and little dresses. Then from the other one, some honey, some snow-white flour, butter, apples for Mary and bread baked by Elizabeth and many more little things which are a token of the motherly love of the grateful cousin for the young Mother. «Please tell Elizabeth that I am very grateful to her, as I am grateful to you, too. I would have been so happy to see her, but I understand the situation. And I would also have loved to see lit­ tle John... » «But You will see him in spring. We will come and see You. » «Nazareth is too far away, » remarks Joseph. 4«Nazareth? But you must stay here. The Messiah must grow up in Bethlehem. It is David's town. The Most High, through Caesar's will, brought Him to the town in David's land, the holy land of Judaea. Why take Him to Nazareth? You know in what opinion the Jews hold the Nazarenes. This Child is to be in fu­ ture years the Saviour of His people. The capital town must not scorn its King because He comes from a despised land. You know as well as I do how captious the Sanhedrin is and how disdain­ ful its three main castes are... And then, here, near me, I will be 192

able to help you somehow, and put everything I have, not so much in the way of material things, but of moral gifts, at the service of this New-Born Baby. And when He is old enough to understand, I will be very happy to be His teacher, as I will be for my own son, so that later, when He is grown up, He will bless me. We must consider that He is destined for great things and, consequently, He must be in a position to present Himself to the world with all the necessary means to win His game. He will certainly pos­ sess Wisdom. But also the simple fact that He was educated by a priest, will make Him more accepted by the difficult Pharisees and Scribes and will render His mission easier. » 5Mary looks at Joseph, and Joseph looks at Mary. Above the 31. 5 rosy innocent head of the Child, sleeping unaware of it all, there is a silent exchange of questions. And they are questions full of sadness. Mary is thinking of Her little house, Joseph is concerned about his work. Here, where only a few days ago they were com­ pletely unknown, they must start from scratch. Here they have none of the dear things they left at home, and which they had prepared with so much love for the Child. And Mary says so: «How can we do that? We have left every­ thing there. Joseph had worked so hard for My Jesus, without sparing labour or money. He worked at night, so that during the day he could work for other people and thus earn enough to buy the best wood, the softest wool, the finest linen, and prepare eve­ rything for Jesus. He built beehives, and he even worked as a ma­ son to make certain modifications in the house, so that the cra­ dle could be placed in My room and remain there until Jesus had grown up and the cradle could then be replaced by a bed, because Jesus will stay with Me until He is an adolescent. » «Joseph can go and get what you left there. » «And where will we put it? You know, Zacharias, that we are poor. We have only our work and our home. And they both enable us to live without starving. But here... perhaps we will find some work. But we shall always have the problem of a house. This good woman cannot give us hospitality forever. And I cannot sacrifice Joseph more than he has already sacrificed himself for My sake! » «Oh! Me! It's nothing for me! I am concerned with Mary's grief. Her grief in not living in Her own house... » Two big tears well from Mary's eyes. 193

31. 6«I think that house must be as dear to Her as Paradise, be­ cause of the mystery which was accomplished in it. I speak lit­ tle, but I understand a lot. If it wasn't for that, I would not be up­ set. I will work twice as much, that's all. I am young and strong enough to work twice as much as I used to and see to everything. And if Mary does not suffer too much... and if you say that we must do so... well, here I am. I will do whatever you think is best. Provided that it will help Jesus. » «It will certainly help. Think it over, and you will see the rea­ sons. » «It is also said that the Messiah will be called Nazarene... » objects Mary. «True. But at least, until He is grown up, let Him grow up in Judaea. The Prophet says: And you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, will be the greatest, because out of you will come the Saviour'. He does not speak of Nazareth. Perhaps that title was given to Him for some reason unknown to us. But this is His land. » «You say so, you, priest, and we... we listen to you with sad hearts, and we believe you. But how painful it is!... When shall I see that house where I became a Mother? » Mary is weeping, si­ lently. And I understand Her grief. Oh! I do understand. The vision ends with Mary's weeping. 6Mary then says: «I know that you understand. But you will see Me crying more bitterly. For the time being, I want to relieve your spirit by showing you Joseph's holiness. He was a man, that is, he had no other help for his spirit, except his holiness. I had all the gifts of God, in My condition of Immaculate. I did not know I was such. But the gifts were active in My soul, and gave Me spiritual strength. But he was not immaculate. Humanity was in him with all its heavy weight and he had to rise towards perfection with all that bur­ den, at the cost of continuous efforts of all his powers to reach perfection and be agreeable to God. Oh! My holy spouse! Holy in everything, even in the most humble things in life. Holy for his angelical chastity. Holy for his human honesty. Holy for his patience, his activity, for his con­ stant serenity, for his modesty, for everything. 194

His holiness shines also in this event. A priest says to him: 'You ought to settle here' and he replies, fully aware of the great­ er hardships he would have to face: 'It is nothing for Me. I am concerned with Mary's grief. If it was not for that, I would not be upset. Provided that it will help Jesus'. Jesus, Mary: his angelical loves. My holy spouse loved nothing else on earth. And he sacri­ ficed himself to that love. They elected him protector of Christian families, of workers and many other categories. But he should be appointed protec­ tor not only of dying people, of married couples, of workmen, but also of those consecrated to God. Who, of all the people in the world consecrated to the service of God, has consecrated himself as he did, to the service of his God, accepting everything, forego­ ing everything, bearing everything, fulfilling everything with quickness, with a cheerful mind, a constant humour? There is no one like him. 7«And I wish to draw your attention to another point, or rath­ er two points. Zacharias is a priest. Joseph is not. But you must note how he, who is not a priest, has a more heavenly soul than the priest. Zacharias thinks in a human way, and in a human way he ex­ pounds the Scriptures because he allows himself to be led by his good human sense, and it is not the first time he does so. And he was punished for it. But he relapses, although less gravely. With regard to John's birth he said: 'How can that happen, if I am old, and my wife is barren?' Now he says: 'To smooth His way, Christ is to be brought up here. ' And with that subtle root of pride that persists also in the best people, he thinks that he can be useful to Jesus. Not useful in the sense that Joseph wanted to be, by serv­ ing Him, but by teaching Him... God forgave him, because of his good intention. But did the 'Master' need teachers? I endeavoured to make him see the truth of the prophecies. But he felt he was more learned than I was and made use of such feeling in his own way. I could have insisted and outdone him. But — this is the other point I wanted to draw your attention to — I respected the priest because of his dignity, not because of his knowledge. 8In general, a priest is always enlightened by God. I said: 'in general'. He is enlightened when he is a real priest. It is not his31. 7 31. 8 195

31. 9 31. 10robe that consecrates him: it is his soul. To judge whether one is a real priest, one must consider what comes out of his soul. As My Jesus said, the things that sanctify or contaminate come out from the soul, and they characterise the whole behaviour of a person. So, when one is a real priest, he is generally inspired by God. We must have a supernatural charity and pray for the others, who are not such. But My Son has already placed you at the service of this re­ demption, so I will say no more. Be happy to suffer, so that the number of real priests may increase. And rely peacefully on the word of him who guides you. And believe and obey his advice. 9Obedience always saves you, even if the advice given to you is not completely perfect. As you know, we obeyed. And we were right to do so. It is true that Herod confined the slaughter of the children to Bethlehem and its surroundings. But could Satan not have spread and prop­ agated such hatred much farther and wider and have induced all the mighty ones in Palestine to commit a similar crime in order to kill the future King of the Jews? He could have done that and it would have happened in Christ's early days, when the repeated miracles had drawn the attention of both the crowds and of those in power. If such an event had taken place, how could we have crossed the whole of Palestine, to go from Nazareth to Egypt, the hospitable land for persecuted Jews, and make such a journey with a little child, and while persecution was raging? It was easi­ er to flee from Bethlehem, even if the flight was equally painful. Obedience always saves you. Remember that. 10And respect for a priest is always a sign of a Christian education. Woe to those priests who lose their apostolic ardour! Also Jesus said that. But woe also to those who think that they are right in despising them! Because they consecrate and hand out the True Bread that de­ scends from Heaven. And that contact makes them holy, just like a sacred chalice, even if they are not totally holy. They will an­ swer to God for it. You must consider them as such and not worry about anything else. You must not be more strict than your Lord Jesus, Who, at their command, leaves Heaven and descends to be raised by their hands. You must learn from Him. And if they are blind, if they are deaf, if their souls are paralysed and their thoughts are unsound, if they are lepers full of faults in strong 196

contrast with their mission, if they are like corpses in sepulchres, then call Jesus that He may heal them and revive them. Call Him with your prayers, and your suffering, o victim souls. To save a soul is to predestine one's own soul to Heaven. But to save the soul of a priest is to save a large number of souls, because every holy priest is a net that drags souls to God. And to save a priest, that is to sanctify: re-sanctify, is to create this mys­ tical net. Each prey is a light to be added to your eternal crown. Go in peace. » 32. Presentation of Jesus in the Temple. The virtue of Simeon and the prophecy of Anna. 1st February 1944. 1I see a couple of people departing from a very modest house. A very young mother comes down an outside staircase holding in her arms a child wrapped in a white cloth. I recognise our Mother. She is always the same: pale and blonde, agile and so kind in Her behaviour. She is dressed in white, with a pale blue mantle and a white veil on Her head. She is carrying Her Child so carefully. Joseph is waiting for Her at the foot of the steps with a little grey donkey. Joseph is dressed entirely in light brown: both his tunic and his mantle are the same colour. He looks at Mary and smiles at Her. When Mary arrives near the little donkey, Joseph places the animal's bridle on his left arm, he takes for a moment the Child, Who is sleeping peacefully, and thus allows Mary to sit more comfortably on the donkey's saddle. He then hands Jesus back to Her and they set off. Joseph is walking beside Mary, holding the bridle all the time and ensuring that the donkey goes straight ahead without stum­ bling. Mary is holding Jesus in Her lap, and lest He might feel cold, She spreads the edge of Her mantle over Him. Joseph and Mary speak very little but they often smile at each other. The road, which is not a model road, winds along a country made barren by the season of the year. Only a few other travellers meet them on the road or overtake them. 2Then I see some houses and the walls around a town. They go32. 1 32. 2 197

32. 3in through a gate and start walking on the ground which is all broken up, and very irregular. Progress is now much more dif­ ficult, both because the traffic causes the donkey to stop very often and because the holes, where stones are missing, make the poor animal jerk continuously and thus Mary and the Child are also disturbed. The road is not flat. It is uphill, although very slightly. It is a narrow road running between high houses with small narrow low doors and only a few windows on the road. High above, the sky can be seen peeping with many thin blue strips between the houses, or rather between the terraces. Down in the street there are many people and much shouting. They meet other people on foot or riding donkeys or leading loaded donkeys and a crowd following a cumbersome camel caravan. At a certain moment, a patrol of Roman legionaries passes by with a great noise of hooves and arms and they disappear beyond an arch built across a narrow stony road. Joseph turns left along a wider and more pleasant road. I can see the embattled town walls, with which I am already familiar, at the end of the street. Mary dismounts from the little donkey near a gate where there is a kind of stall for other donkeys. I say «stall» because it is a kind of shed, or better still, a kind of shed spread with straw; there are also some poles with rings to which the animals are tied. Joseph gives some coins to a little man who has gone up to him and with them he buys some hay and he draws a pail of water from a rustic well in the corner. He then feeds the don­ key. He joins Mary and they both enter the enclosure of the Temple. 3At first they turn their steps towards an arcade where the merchants are, to whom Jesus later will give a good lashing: the vendors of lambs and doves and the money-changers. Joseph buys two little white pigeons. He does not change any money: he obviously has what is required. They then make for a side door, with eight steps, as all the doors seem to have, because the centre of the Temple is raised above the surrounding ground. The door opens into a great hall like the doors of our houses in towns, to give you an idea, on­ ly this one. is larger and more ornate. In the hall there are two 198

kinds of altars on the right and on the left, that is two rectangu­ lar constructions, the purpose of which I do not understand at first. They are like low basins, because the internal part is lower than the external rim, which is a few centimetres higher. A priest approaches them, I do not know whether he was called by Joseph or whether he did so of his own accord. Mary of­ fers Her two little pigeons and since I know their fate, I turn my eyes elsewhere. I look at the decorations of the very heavy portal, of the ceiling and of the hall. But I get the impression, by a side glance, that the priest sprays Mary with some water. It must be water, because I do not see any stains on Her dress. Then Mary, Who had given the priest a handful of coins together with the two pigeons (I had forgotten to mention that), goes into the real Temple, in the company of the priest. I am watching everything. It is a most ornate place. Sculp­ tured angels' heads, palms and decorations adorn the columns, the walls and the ceiling. Light comes in through strange long narrow windows, obviously without panes, cut diagonally com­ pared to the walls. I suppose the idea is to keep the rain out. 4Mary moves forward to a certain point. She then stops. A few metres from Her, there are more steps on top of which there is a kind of altar, beyond which there is another construction. I now realise that I thought I was in the Temple, instead I was in the part surrounding the real Temple, that is the Holy, beyond which no one can proceed, apparently, except the priests. What I therefore thought was the Temple, is but an enclosed vestibule, which on three sides encircles the Temple, in which the Taber­ nacle is enclosed. I do not know whether I have made myself un­ derstood. But I am neither an architect nor an engineer. Mary offers the Child, Who has woken up and is turning His innocent eyes towards the priest, with the astonished look of in­ fants a few days old. The priest takes Him in his arms and raises Him, with arms fully stretched out, towards the Temple, stand­ ing against the kind of altar placed on top of the steps. The rite is over. The Child is handed back to His Mother and the priest goes away. 5There is a group of onlookers. Amongst them a little old man, bent with age and limping, makes his way leaning on a stick. He must be very old, I would say over eighty. He goes near Mary and32. 4 32. 5 199

32. 6asks Her to give him the Child for one moment. Mary satisfies him, smiling. Simeon, whom I always thought belonged to the sacerdotal class, and is instead a simple believer, at least according to his garments, takes the Child and kisses Him. Jesus smiles at him with the typical smile of sucklings. He seems to watch him in­ quisitively, because the old man is crying and laughing at the same time and his tears form a sparkling embroidery running along his wrinkles and beading his long white beard, towards which Jesus stretches His little hands. He is Jesus, but still a child, and whatever moves in front of Him, draws His attention so that He wants to get hold of it to see what it is. Mary and Jo­ seph smile and so do all the others who praise the beauty of the Child. I hear the words* of the holy old man and I see the astonished gaze of Joseph, the deeply moved look of Mary as well as the glances of the little crowd, partly surprised and moved, partly laughing at the words of the old man. Amongst the latter there are some bearded and conceited members of the Sanhedrin, who shake their heads giving Simeon an ironic pitying look. They must think he is mad due to his old age. 6Mary's smile fades into paleness when Simeon mentions sor­ row. Although She knows, that word pierces Her soul. She goes closer to Joseph, to be comforted, She presses Her Child to Her breast passionately and like a thirsty soul, She takes in the words of Anna of Phanuel**, who being a woman, has mercy on Her suf­ fering and promises Her that the Eternal Father will soothe the hour of sorrow with a supernatural strength. «Woman, He Who gave a Saviour to His people, will not lack the power to send His angel to console Your tears. The great women of Israel never lacked the help of the Lord and You are far greater than Judith and Jael. Our God will give You a heart of the most pure gold to withstand the storm of sorrow, so that You will be the greatest woman in Creation: the Mother. And You, Child, remember me in the hour of Your mission. » And the vision ends here. * the words: Luke 2: 25-35. ** Anna of Phanuel: Luke 2: 36-38. 200

2nd February 1944. 7Jesus says: 32. 7 «Two teachings, applicable to everybody, derive from the de­ scription given by you. The former: truth is not revealed to a priest engrossed in rites, but absent with his spirit, it is instead revealed to a simple be­ liever. The priest, always in contact with Divinity, devoted to what concerns God and to everything that is above the flesh, should have realised at once who the Child was Who was being offered that morning in the Temple. But it was necessary for him to have a living spirit, in order to realise it. A mere robe covering a drowsy spirit, if not a dead spirit, was not sufficient. The Spirit of God can thunder if It wants, and rouse like a thunderbolt and shake like an earthquake the dullest spirit. It can. But generally, as It is an orderly Spirit, as God is Order in each Person and way of acting, It inspires and speaks, not where there is sufficient merit to deserve its effusion — in which case Its effusions would be most rare and not even you would know their light — but where It sees the 'goodwill' to deserve such effusion. How is such will exerted? With a life devoted, as far as pos­ sible, entirely to God: in faith, obedience, purity, charity, gener­ osity and in prayer. Not in practices: in prayer. There is less dif­ ference between night and day than there is between practices, and prayer. The latter is communion of the spirit with God, from which you emerge with fresh strength and a decision to belong more and more to God. The former are common habit exerted for various purposes, which are always selfish, and they leave you exactly as you were, on the contrary, they aggravate your burden with the faults of falsehood and sluggishness. 8Simeon had such goodwill. He had not been spared troubles 32. 8 and trials in his life. But he had not lost his goodwill. Age and misfortunes had not impaired or shaken his faith in the Lord and in His promises, neither did his goodwill to be more and more worthy of God tire or falter. And God sent Him the ray of the Spirit to guide him to the Temple, that he might see the Light that had come to the world, before his eyes of a faithful servant closed to the light of the sun, awaiting to be reopened to the Sun of God glowing in the Heavens, which I had reopened when I as-201

32. 9cended after my Martyrdom. 'Prompted by the Holy Spirit' says the Gospel. Oh! If men on­ ly knew what a perfect Friend the Holy Spirit is! What Guide, what Teacher! If they only loved and invoked Him, this love of the Most Holy Trinity, this Light of Light, this Fire of Fire, this Intelligence, this Wisdom! How much more they would know of what is necessary to know! Look, Mary; listen, My children. Simeon waited all his long life before 'seeing the Light' and before knowing that God's promise was fulfilled. But he never doubted. He never said to himself: 'It is useless to persevere in hoping and praying '. He just persevered. And he deserved 'to see' what neither the priest nor the proud and dull members of the Sanhedrin saw: the Son of God, the Messiah, the Saviour in the flesh of a Child Who warmed him and smiled at him. He received the smile of God from the lips of a Child, his first reward for an honest and pious life. 9The other lesson: the words of Anna. She too, a prophetess, saw in Me, a new-born Baby, the Messiah. And this is quite nat­ ural, considering her prophetic prerogative. But listen to what she says to My Mother, moved by faith and charity. And use her words as a light for your souls that quiver in these days of dark­ ness and in this Feast of Light. 'He who gave a Saviour will not lack the power to send His angel to console Your tears'. Consider that God gave Himself to obliterate Satan's work in your souls. And will He not be able now to defeat the satans that torture you? Will He not be able to wipe your tears routing these satans and sending you once again the peace of His Christ? Why do you not ask Him with faith? A real overbearing faith, a faith before which the rigour of God, indignant at your many faults, may turn into a smile and He may grant you His forgive­ ness, which is relief, and His blessing which will be a rainbow in this world submerged in a deluge of blood which you wanted yourselves. Remember: the Father, after punishing men with the storm, said to Himself and to His Patriarch: 'Never again will I curse the earth because of man, because his heart contrives evil from his infancy. Never again will I strike down every living thing as I have done'. And He has been faithful to His word. He has not 202

sent a storm again. But how many times have you said to your­ selves and to God : 'If we are spared this time, if You save us, we shall never make wars again, never again', and after, you have al­ ways made more terrifying ones? How many times, o false men, who have no respect either for God or for your own word? And yet God would help you once again, only if the large mass of the faithful would invoke Him with faith and ardent love. Lay your worries at the feet of God: you who are too few to counterbalance the many who keep God's rigour alive, you who have remained devoted to Him, notwithstanding the dreadful times which are increasing from day to day. He will send you His angel, as He sent the Saviour to the world. Do not be afraid. Be united to the Cross. It has always defeated the snares of the de­ mon, who with the cruelties of men and the sadness of life en­ deavours to drive to desperation, that is, to separation from God, the hearts he cannot conquer in any other way. » 33. The lullaby of the Virgin. 28th November 1944. [... ] 1This morning I had a very gentle awakening. I was still doz­ 33. 1 ing when I heard the most pure voice I have ever heard sing a. slow lullaby very sweetly. The song was so slow and archaic that it sounded like a Christmas pastoral. I followed the melody and the voice, enjoying them more and more until I awoke completely. I then fully understood what was taking place, and I said: «Hail, Mary, full of Grace!» because it was Mother singing. And She raised Her voice after saying to me: «I greet you, too. Come and be happy! » And I saw Her... in the house in Bethlehem, in Her room, in­ tent on lulling Jesus to sleep. In the room, there were Mary's loom and some needlework. I think Mary had stopped working to give the Child suck and change His swaddling bands, — I should say His clothes, because He was already a few months old. I would say six, or eight months at the most. Perhaps Mary was thinking of resuming Her work after the Child had fallen asleep. It was evening. The sun was setting and there were many 203