« God created Me when His purpose first unfolded ».
(Prov. 8, 22.)
22nd August 1944.
Jesus orders me: « Take a completely new notebook. Write down on the first page what I dictated on August the 16th. She will be spoken of in this book.»
I obey and I write.
16th August 1944.
« Today write only this. Purity has such a value, that the womb of a creature can contain the Uncontainable One, because She possessed the greatest purity that a creature of God could have.
The Most Holy Trinity descended with Its perfections, inhabited with Its Three Persons, enclosed Its infinity in a small space. But It did not debase Itself by doing so, because the love of the Virgin and the will of God widened this space until they rendered it a Heaven. And the Most Holy Trinity made Itself known by Its characteristics:
The Father, being once again the Creator of the creature, as on the sixth day of Creation, had a real, worthy daughter fashioned to His perfect image. The mark of God was impressed so completely and exactly on Mary, that only in the First‑born was it greater. Mary can be called the Second‑born of the Father because, owing to the perfection granted to Her and preserved by Her, and to Her dignity of Spouse and Mother of God and Queen of Heaven, She comes second after the Son of the Father and second in His eternal thought, which ab aeterno took delight in Her.
The Son, being also "Her Son", did teach Her, by the mystery of Grace, His truth and wisdom, when He was but an Embryo, growing in Her womb.
The Holy Spirit appeared amongst men, for an anticipated prolonged Pentecost: Love for "Her Whom He loved", Consolation to men because of the Fruit of Her Womb, Sanctification on account of the Maternity of the Holy One.
God, to reveal Himself to men in the new and complete form, which starts the Redemption era, did not select for His throne a star in the sky, nor the palace of a powerful man. Neither did He want the wings of angels as the base of His feet. He wanted a spotless womb.
Also Eve had been created spotless. But she wanted to become corrupt of her own free will. Mary, Who lived in a corrupt world -Eve was in a pure world‑ did not wish to violate Her purity, not even with one thought remotely connected with sin. She knew that sin exists. She saw its various and horrible forms and implications. She saw them all, including the most hideous one: deicide. But She knew them solely to expiate them and to be, for ever, the Woman who has mercy on sinners and prays for their redemption.
This thought will be the introduction to other holy things that I will give for your benefit and the welfare of many people.»
2. Joachim and Anne Make a Vow to the Lord.
22nd August 1944.
I see the inside of a house. In it there is an elderly woman sitting at a loom. I would say, noting that her hair, which formerly was certainly jet black, is now quite grey and her face, though not wrinkled, has the gravity that comes with age, that she must be fifty‑five years old. Not more.
In estimating a woman's age, I found my calculations upon my mother's face, whose image is more than ever present to me in these times which remind me of her final days at my bedside... The day after tomorrow it will be a year since I had my last look at her... My mother had a very youthful face, but was prematurely grey. When she was fifty she was as grey as at the end of her life. But, apart from the maturity of her appearance, nothing betrayed her age. I could therefore be mistaken in estimating the age of an elderly woman.
The woman 1 see weaving in a room, bright with the light coming from a door wide open on to a large garden ‑a small holding I would call it because it smoothly extends up and down a green slope‑ the woman is beautiful in her definite Jewish features. Her eyes are black and deep and while I do not know why, they remind me of the Baptist's. But, although they are as proud as the eyes of a queen, they are also sweet, as if a veil of blue had been laid on the flash of an eagle: sweet and somewhat sad, as of a person who thinks of and regrets lost things. Her skin is brown, but not excessively so. Her mouth, slightly large, is well formed and is motionless in an austere setting, which, however, is not a hard one. Her nose is long and thin, slightly drooping, an aquiline nose, which suits her eyes. She is well built, but not fat, well proportioned and I think tall, judging her in a sitting position.
I think she is weaving a curtain or a carpet. The many‑coloured shuttles move fast on the brown coloured weft, and what has already been woven shows a pretty plaited work of Greek frets and rosettes in which green, yellow, red and deep blue interweave and blend as in a mosaic.
The woman is wearing a very plain dark dress, a red violet colour, the hue of a special species of pansy.
She stands up when she hears someone knocking at the door. She is really
tall. She opens the door.
A woman asks her: « Anne, will you give me your amphora? (1). I will fill it for you. »
The woman has a lovely five year old child with her, who at once clings to Anne's dress, and she caresses him while going into another room, and returns with a beautiful copper amphora which she hands to the woman saying: « You are always good to old Anne, indeed you are. May God reward you with this son and the other children you will have, you fortunate one! » Anne sighs.
The woman looks at her and does not know what to say in the circumstances. To divert attention from the distressing situation of which she is aware, she remarks: « I am leaving Alphaeus with you, if you do not mind, so that I will be quicker and I will fill many jars and jugs for you.»
Alphaeus is very pleased to stay and the reason is clear. As soon as his mother is gone, Anne picks him up and takes him into the orchard, lifts him up to a pergola (2) of grapes as golden as a topaz and says to him: «Eat, eat, because they are good », and she kisses him on his little face soiled with the juice of the grapes which the child eats avidly. Then she laughs heartily and at once looks younger on account of the lovely set of teeth she displays, and the joy that shines on her face, dispelling her years, as the child asks: «And what are you going to give me now? » and he gazes at her with large wide open eyes of a deep grey‑blue colour. She laughs and plays with him bending on her knees and goes on: « What will you give me if I give you?... if I give you?... guess! » And the child, clapping his little hands, with a big smile responds: « Kisses, kisses I will give you, nice Anne, good Anne, mamma Anne!... »
Anne, when she hears him say: « mamma Anne », gives out a real cry of joyful love and cuddles the little one declaring: « My darling! Dear! Dear! Dear!» At each « dear » a kiss descends upon the rosy cheeks.
Then they go to a cupboard and from a plate she takes some honey cakes. «I made them for you, darling of poor Anne, because you love me. But tell me, how much do you love me? » And the child, thinking of what has impressed him most, says: « As much as the Temple of the Lord.» Anne kisses him again on his lively little eyes, his little red lips and the child cuddles against her like a kitten.
His mother goes back and forth with a full jar and smiles without saying anything. She leaves them to their effusiveness.
An elderly man comes in from the orchard. He is a little smaller than Anne, and his thick hair is completely white. His face is of a clear complexion with a squarely cut beard; his eyes are like blue turquoises and his eyelashes are light brown, almost fair. His robe is dark brown.
(1) Amphora: a two‑handled jar commonly used by the Greeks and Romans.
(2) Pergola: grape vines supported by poles and forming a kind of roof with their leaves.
Anne does not see him because her back is turned to the door and he approaches her from behind questioning: « And nothing for me? » Anne turns round and says: « O Joachim! Have you finished your work? » At the same time little Alphaeus runs to the elderly man's knees exclaiming: « Also to you, also to you. » And when the man bends down to kiss him, the child clings to his neck, ruffling his beard with his little hands and his kisses.
Joachim also has his gift. He brings his left hand from behind his back and offers the child such a beautiful apple, that it seems made of the finest porcelain. Smiling he says to the child who is holding his hands out eagerly: « Wait, I will cut it for you! You cannot take it as it is. It is bigger than you! » With a small pruning knife, which he carries on his belt, he cuts the fruit into small slices. He seems to be feeding a nestling, such is the care with which he puts the morsels into the little wide open mouth that munches and chews.
« Look at his eyes, Joachim! Don't they look like two little wavelets of the Sea of Galilee when the evening wind draws a veil of cloud over the sky? » Anne is speaking, resting one hand on her husband's shoulder, and she is leaning slightly on him, too: an attitude revealing the deep love of a wife, a love still perfect after many years of marriage.
And Joachim looks at her lovingly and agrees, saying: « Most beautiful! And His curls? Aren't they the colour of crops dried in the sun? Look: in them there is a mixture of gold and copper.»
« Ah! If we had had a child, I would have liked him thus: with these eyes and this hair... » Anne has bent down, in fact she is on her knees and with a deep sigh she kisses the two large grey‑blue eyes.
Joachim, too, sighs. But he wishes to comfort her. He puts his hand on her thick curly grey hair and whispers to her: « We must continue to hope. God can do everything. While we are alive, the miracle may happen, particularly when we love Him and we love each other.» Joachim stresses the final phrase.
But Anne is silent, dejected, and she is standing, her head bowed, to conceal two tears streaming down her face. Only little Alphaeus sees them and he is confounded and grieved that his great friend is crying, as he sometimes does. He lifts his hands and wipes the tears.
« Don't cry, Anne! We are happy just the same. At least I am, because I have you.»
« Also I have you. But I have not given you a child... I think I have distressed the Lord, because He has made my womb barren...»
« O my wife! How can you have distressed Him, you holy woman? Listen. Let us go once more to the Temple. For this reason. Not only for the Tabernacles! Let us say a long prayer... Perhaps it will happen to you as it did to Sarah... as it happened to Anne of Elkanah. They waited for a long time and they considered themselves dejected because they were barren. Instead a holy son was maturing for them in the Heavens of God. Smile, my wife. Your crying is a greater sorrow to me than being without offspring... We shall take Alphaeus with us. We shall make him pray, since he is innocent... and God will hear his prayer and ours together and will grant it.»
« Yes, let us make a vow to the Lord. The offspring will be His. As long as He grants it. Oh to hear me being called "mamma"! »
And Alphaeus, an astonished and innocent spectator, exclaims: « I will call you so! »
« Yes, my darling... but you have your mummy, and I have no baby... »
The vision ceases here.
I understand that Mary's birth cycle has begun. And I am very happy because I wanted it so much. And I think that you (3) will be happy, too.
Before I began to write I heard Mother say to me: « So, My dear daughter, write about Me. All your grief will be comforted. » And while saying so She laid Her hand on my head caressing me kindly. Then the vision began. But at first, that is, until I heard the fifty‑year‑old woman being called by name, I did not realise that I was in the presence of Mother's mother and consequently of the grace of Her birth.
(3) It is to be noted that Maria Valtorta often addresses her spiritual Father in the course of her work.
3. Anne, Praying in the Temple, Has Her Wish Fulfilled.
23rd August 1944.
Before writing the following, I wish to make a note.
The house did not seem to me the well known one of Nazareth. The location, at least, is quite different. Also the orchard garden is larger and beyond it fields can be seen, not many, but they are there. Later, when Mary is married, there is only the orchard, large, but not more than an orchard: and I have never seen in other visions the room that I saw. I do not know whether for financial reasons Mary's parents disposed of part of their property or whether Mary, when she left the Temple, moved into another house given to her perhaps by Joseph. I do not remember whether in past visions and instructions I had a clear sign that the house of Nazareth was the house where she was born.
My head is very heavy with fatigue. And then, particularly with dictations, I forget the words at once, although the commands remain recorded in my mind and illuminate my soul. But details fade away immediately. If after one hour I had to repeat what I heard, with the exception of one or two main sentences, I would not know anything else. Visions, on the contrary, remain clear in my mind because I had to watch them myself. I hear dictations but I see visions. Therefore they remain clear in my mind which functioned in following them through their various phases.
I was hoping there would be a declaration on yesterday's vision. Instead nothing.
I am beginning to see and I write.
Outside the walls of Jerusalem, on the hills and among the olive-trees, there is a large crowd. It looks like a large market. But there are no booths. There are no shouting charlatans or pedlars. No games. There are coarse wool tents, certainly proof against water, hanging on posts fixed to the ground, and tied to the posts there are green branches, providing both ornamental decoration and practical coolness. Other tents, instead, are made entirely of branches fixed to the ground and tied in ridge fashion, thus forming small green tunnels. Under each tent there are people of every age and condition, speaking quietly and earnestly, with the cry of a child breaking the quietness now and again.
It is nightfall and the lights of small oil lamps are glittering here and there throughout the odd camp. Around the lights some families are taking their supper on the ground, the mothers holding the little ones in their laps. Many of these tired infants fall asleep holding pieces of bread in their tiny pink fingers while their small heads fall on their mothers' breasts, like little chicks under hens. The mothers finish their meals, as best they can, each with only one hand free, while the other hand is holding the child against her heart. Meanwhile other families are not yet supping and are talking in the dimness of twilight, waiting for the food to be ready for eating. Small fires are lit here and there and women are busy around them. Slow somewhat plaintive lullabies soothe children who are having difficulty in going to sleep.
High above is a beautiful clear sky, which is becoming a deeper and deeper blue until it looks like an enormous black‑bluish soft velvet velarium. On this cloth, a little at a time, invisible craftsmen and decorators fix gems and night lights, some isolated, some in odd geometrical patterns, amongst which stand out the Great Bear and the Little Bear, in the shape of a cart, with its shaft resting on the ground after the oxen have been freed from the yoke. The Pole Star is smiling in all its brightness.
I realise it is October because the loud voice of a man says so: « This month of October is beautiful as very rarely in past years! »
Here is Anne coming from a fire with something in her hands, spread over a loaf of bread which is large and flat like a cake and serves also as a tray. Little Alphaeus is holding on to her skirt and is prattling in his little voice. Joachim, when he sees Anne approaching, hastens to light his lamp; he is at the entrance of his little hut made of branches and is speaking to a man about thirty years old, whom Alphaeus greets from a distance in his shrill voice saying: « Daddy.»
Anne in her stately walk passes along the rows of huts. She is stately, yet humble. She is not haughty with anyone. She picks up the child of a very poor woman, as the urchin had fallen at her feet while running like a little scamp. Since he has dirtied his face and is crying, Anne cleans him, comforts him and hands him to his mother who has run towards them and is apologising. Anne says to her: « Oh! It's nothing. I am glad he did not hurt himself. He is a lovely child. What age is he? »
« Three years. He is my second youngest and I am expecting another one shortly. I have six boys. Now I would like to have a girl... A girl is a lot for her mother ... »
« The Most High has consoled you very much, woman! » sighs Anne.
And the woman goes on: « Yes. I am poor, but the children are our joy and the bigger ones already help with the work. And, Madam, (it is very obvious that Anne is of a higher social standing and the woman realises it), how many children have you got? »
« None.» Isn't this one yours? »
« No, he is the son of a very good neighbour. He is my consolation ... »
« Did yours die or...? »
« I never had any.»
« Oh! » The poor woman looks at her pitifully.
Anne says goodbye to her, sighing very heavily, and goes to her hut.
« I have kept you waiting, Joachim. I was held up by a poor woman, the mother of six boys. Fancy that! And she is expecting another child shortly.»
Alphaeus' father calls him, but he answers: cI am staying with Anne. I will help her.» Everybody laughs.
« Leave him. He does not disturb us. He is not bound by the Law yet. Here or there he is but a little bird eating » states Anne. And she sits down with the child in her lap and gives him some cake and, I think, some roasted fish. I can see that she does something before giving it to him; perhaps she removes a fishbone. She has served her husband first. She eats last.
The night is more and more crowded with stars and the camp with lights. Then little by little many lights go out. They are the lamps of those who were the first to have supper and who now go to sleep. Also the buzzing slowly decreases. No more children's voices are heard. Only some babies still unweaned raise their lamb‑like little voices seeking their mothers' milk. The night blows her breath over places and people and obliterates pains and memories, hopes and ill‑feelings. Nay, perhaps these last two survive in dreams, although alleviated by sleep.
Anne says so to her husband while lulling Alphaeus who is falling asleep in her arms: « Last night I dreamt that next year I will be coming to the Holy City for two feasts, instead of one only. And one will be the offering of my creature to the Temple... Oh! Joachim!... »
« Do hope, Anne. Did you not perceive anything else? Did the Lord not whisper anything to your heart? »
« Nothing. Only a dream... »
« Tomorrow is the last day of prayer. All the offerings have already been made. But we will renew them again tomorrow, solemnly. We shall gain our favour from God by our faithful love. I always think that it will happen to you as it did to Anne of Elkanah. »
« May God grant it... and I wish I had someone say to me now: "Go in peace. The God of Israel has granted the grace you asked for!"»
« If the grace comes, your child will tell you turning over for the first time in your womb; and it will be the voice of an innocent, therefore the voice of God.»
The camp is now silent in darkness. Anne also takes Alphaeus to the adjoining hut, and puts him on the bed near his little brothers, who are already asleep. Then she lies down beside Joachim and their lamp also goes out: one of the little stars on earth. More beautiful, the stars in the vault of heaven remain watching over mankind asleep.
« The just are always wise, because, as friends of God, they live in His company and are taught by Him, yes, by Him, Infinite Wisdom.
My grandparents were just and therefore they possessed wisdom. They could quote accurately from the Book, singing the praises of Wisdom from its context: "She it was I loved and searched for from my youth: I resolved to have her as my bride".
Anne of Aaron was the strong woman of whom our Ancestor speaks. And
Joachim, a descendant of king David, had not sought so much charm and wealth as virtue. Anne possessed a great virtue. All holy attributes joined together like a sweet‑smelling bunch of flowers to become one beautiful thing that was: this exceptional Virtue. A real virtue, worthy of being set before the throne of God.
Joachim had therefore married wisdom twice, "loving her more than any other woman": the Wisdom of God enshrined in the heart of a just woman. Anne of Aaron had not sought anything else but to join her life to that of an upright man, certain that family joy lies in uprighteousness. And to be the embodiment of the "strong woman" she lacked only the crown of children, the glory of the married woman, the justification of marriage, the one of which Solomon speaks, as for her happiness she lacked children, the flowers of a tree that has become one thing with the adjoining tree and obtains thereof abundance of new fruit, in which the two good qualities blend into one, because she had never experienced any disappointment on account of her husband.
Although she was now approaching old age and had been Joachim's wife for many years, she was always for him "the spouse of his youth, his joy, the most dear hind, the graceful fawn", whose caresses always had the fresh charm of the first nuptial evening and sweetly fascinated his love, keeping it as fresh as a flower sprinkled with dew, and as ardent as a fire continuously kept burning. Therefore, in their affliction, their childless state, they spoke to each other "words of consolation in their thoughts and troubles".
And eternal Wisdom, when the time came, besides teaching them in waking consciousness, enlightened them with dreams at night, visions of the poem of glory that was to come from them and was Most Holy Mary, My Mother. If their humility made them hesitant, their hearts trembled in hope at the first hint of God's promise. There was already certainty in Joachim's words: "Do hope... We shall gain our favour from God by our faithful love". They were dreaming of a child: they got the Mother of God.
The words of the book of Wisdom appear to be written for them: "By means of her I shall acquire glory before the people... by means of her, immortality shall be mine and I shall leave an everlasting memory to my successors". But to obtain all this they had to become masters of a true and lasting virtue which no event marred. Virtue of faith. Virtue of charity. Virtue of hope. Virtue of chastity. The chastity of a married couple! They possessed it, because it is not necessary to be virgins to be chaste. And chaste nuptial beds are guarded by angels and from them descend good children who make the virtue of their parents the rule of their lives.
But where are they now? Now children are not wanted, neither is chastity. I therefore say that love and marriage are desecrated.»
4. With a Canticle, Anne Announces that She Is a Mother.
24th August 1944.
I see Joachim and Anne's house once again. Nothing is changed inside, with the exception that there are many branches full of flowers, placed in amphoras here and there, certainly the fruit of the pruning of the trees in the orchard, all in bloom: a cloud varying from snow‑white to the red of certain corals.
Also Anne's work is different. On the smaller of two looms she is weaving some lovely linen cloth and is singing, moving her feet to the rhythm of the song. She is singing and smiling. At whom? At herself, at something she is aware of in her inside.
I have written separately the slow and yet gay song, so that I might follow it, for she repeats it several times as if she rejoices in it. She sings it more and more loudly and with certainty, like someone who found a melody in her heart and at first whispers it softly and then, being sure, proceeds faster and in a higher tone. The slow and yet gay song (which I am transcribing because it is so sweet in its simplicity) says:
« Glory to the Almighty Lord Who had love for the children of David. [ Glory to the Lord!
His supreme grace has visited me from Heaven
The old tree has borne a new branch and I am blessed.
At the Feast of Lights hope scattered the seed;
Now the fragrance of Nisan sees it germinating.
Like an almond‑tree my flesh is adorned with flowers in spring.
In the evening she perceives she is bearing her fruit.
On that branch there is a rose, there is a most sweet apple.
There is a bright star, an innocent little child.
There is the joy of the house, of the husband and wife.
Praise be to God, to my Lord, Who had mercy on me.
His light said to me: "A star will come to you."
Glory, glory! Yours shall be the fruit of this tree.
The first and last, holy and pure as a gift of the Lord.
Yours it shall be and may joy and peace come upon the earth.
Fly, shuttle. Fasten the yarn for the infant's cloth.
The infant is about to be born. May the song of my heart rise to God [ singing hosannas. »
Joachim comes in when she is about to repeat her song for the fourth time. « Are you happy, Anne? You look like a bird in spring. What song is that? I have never heard anyone sing it. Where does it come from? »
« From my heart, Joachim.» Anne has got up and is now moving towards her husband, smiling happily. She looks younger and lovelier than ever.
« I did not know you were a poet » declares her husband looking at her with obvious admiration. They do not look like an elderly couple. In their glances there is the fondness of young couples. « I came from the other end of the orchard when I heard you singing. For years I had not heard your voice, that of a turtle‑dove in love. Do you mind repeating that song for me? »
« I would repeat it even if you did not ask me. The children of Israel have always entrusted to songs the sincere cries of their hopes, joys and pains. I have entrusted to a song the task of telling myself and you a great joy. Yes, also of telling myself because it is such a great thing that although I am sure of it now, it does not yet seem to me to be true...», and she begins the song over again. But when she comes to the point: « On that branch there is a rose, there is a most sweet apple, a star...», her well tuned contralto voice at first trembles, then it breaks, and with a sob of joy she looks at Joachim and raising her arms she cries: « I am a mother, my darling! » And she takes refuge on his heart, between the arms that he has held out and has now clasped around his happy wife. This is the most chaste and happy embrace that I have ever seen in my life, chaste and ardent in its chastity.
And the sweet reproach is whispered over Anne's grey hair: « And you were not telling me? »
« Because I wanted to be sure. Old as I am... to know that I am a mother... I could not believe it was true... I did not want to give you the most bitter disappointment of all. Since the end of December I have perceived that my womb was becoming new and bearing, as I say, a new branch. But now on that branch the fruit is certain... See? That linen is for the one that is coming.»
« Is it not the linen that you bought in Jerusalem in October? »
« Yes, it is. I spun it while I was waiting... and hoping. I was hoping because the last day while I was praying in the Temple, as close as possible for a woman to be to the House of God, and it was already evening... remember that I was saying: "A little longer, a little more". I could not withdraw from the place without receiving the grace! Well, in the growing darkness, from inside the sacred place, where I was watching from the depth of my soul, to obtain assent from the everpresent God, I saw a light, a spark of beautiful light depart. It was as white as the moon and yet it had in itself all the brightness of all the pearls and gems that are in the world. It seemed that one of the precious stars of the Veil, the stars placed under the feet of the Cherubim had become detached and bright with a supernatural light... it seemed that beyond the sacred Veil, from the Glory itself, a fire started which came quickly towards me and while cutting through the air, it sang with a heavenly voice chanting: "May what you asked for, come to you". That is why I sing: "A star will come to you". What child will ours ever be, since it reveals itself as the light of a star in the Temple and in the Feast of Lights says: "I am"? Did you perhaps foresee rightly when you thought I would be a new Anne of Elkanah? How shall we name our creature, whom I perceive talking to me in my womb as sweetly as the melody of waters, with its little heart beating repeatedly like the heart of a pretty turtle‑dove held in one's hands? »
« If it is a boy we shall call him Samuel... If a girl, Star. The word that stopped your song to give me the joy of learning that I am a father. The form it took to reveal itself in the holy shade of the Temple.»
« Star. Our Star, because, I don't know why, but I think it is a girl. I think that such sweet caresses can only come from a most sweet daughter. Because I do not bear her, I have no pain. It is she who takes me on a blue flowery path, as if I were supported by holy angels and the earth was already far away... I have always heard women say that it is painful to conceive and to bear. But I have no pain. I feel strong, young, fresher than when I presented you with my virginity in my far away youth. Daughter of God -because this creature born of a barren stump, is more of God than ours‑ she gives no pain to her mother. She only brings her peace and blessings: the fruits of God, her true Father. »
« Mary, then, we shall call her! Star of our sea, pearl, happiness. The name of the first great woman in Israel. But she will never sin against the Lord and to Him only she will give her songs, because she is offered to Him: a victim before being born.»
« Yes, she is offered to Him. Male or female, as it may be, after rejoicing for three years over our creature, we shall give it to the Lord. Victims ourselves with her, for the glory of God.»
I do not see or hear anything else.
« Wisdom, after enlightening them with dreams at night, descended "breath of the power of God, pure emanation of the glory of the Almighty", and became Word for the barren one. He, who already saw His time for redemption close at hand: I, Christ, Anne's grandson, almost fifty years later, by means of the Word, will work miracles on barren, diseased, possessed, desolate women and on all the miseries of the world.
But in the meantime, for the joy of having a Mother I whisper a mysterious word in the shade of the Temple that contained the hopes of Israel, of the Temple now at the end of its life, because a new and real Temple is about to come on earth, no longer containing the hopes of one people, but the certainty of Paradise for the people of the whole world, and for centuries and centuries until
the end of the world. And this Word works the miracle of making fertile what was barren. And also the miracle of giving me a Mother, Who not only had the best disposition, as was natural She should have, being born of two saints, but, unique creature, had not only a good soul as many others still have, not only a continuous increase of goodness because of Her good will, not only an immaculate body, but had an immaculate soul.
You have seen the continuous generation of souls from God. Now think what must have been the beauty of this soul which the Father looked fondly on before time existed, which formed the delight of the Trinity, which Trinity longed to adorn it with its gifts, to present it to Itself. Oh! Most Holy Mary that God created for Himself and then for the salvation of men! Bearer of the Saviour, You were the first salvation. Living Paradise, with Your smile You began to sanctify the world.
The soul created to be soul of the Mother of God! When this vital spark derived from the more lively throb of the Threefold Love of the Trinity, the angels rejoiced because Paradise had never seen a brighter light. Like a petal of a heavenly rose, a mystical and precious petal, that was a gem and a flame, the breath of God descended to give life to a body quite differently than for others. It descended so powerful in its ardour that Guilt could not contaminate it, it came through the heavens and enclosed itself in a holy womb.
The world had its Flower, but did not yet know, the true, unique Flower, that blooms eternally: lily and rose, sweet‑smelling violet and jasmine, helianthus and cyclamen blended together and with them all the flowers on earth in one Flower only: Mary, in Whom every grace and virtue is gathered together.
In April the land of Palestine looked like a huge garden and the fragrance and colours delighted the hearts of men. But the most beautiful Rose was still unknown. She was already flowering to God in the secrecy of Her mother's womb, because my Mother loved since She was conceived. But only when the vine gives its blood to make wine and the sweet strong smells fill the yards and the nostrils, She would smile to God first and then to the world, saying with Her most innocent smile: "Here, the Vine that will give you the Bunch of grapes to be squeezed in the winepress, so that it will become eternal Medicine for your disease, is amongst you".
I said: "Mary loved since She was conceived!" What is it that gives light and knowledge to the soul? Grace. What is it that removes Grace? Original sin and the mortal one. Mary, the Immaculate, was never deprived of the remembrance of God, of His closeness, His love, His light, His wisdom. She was therefore able to understand and love when She was but flesh forming around an
immaculate soul that continued to love.
Later, I will let you contemplate mentally the depth of Mary's virginity. You will have a spell of heavenly ecstasy, as when I allowed you to consider our eternity. In the meantime consider how to bear a creature free from the Stain that deprives one of God, gives the mother a superior intelligence and makes a prophetess of her, although she has conceived in a natural and human way. The prophetess of her daughter, whom she calls: "Daughter of God". And consider what would have happened if innocent children had been born of innocent First Parents, as God wanted.
Man, you state that you are setting out to be "superman", and with your vices are only setting out to be "superdemon". The possibility of existing and living without the contamination of Satan, leaving to God the administration of life, knowledge, and goodness, would have been the means to make you "superman", not wishing more than what God had given you and which was little less than infinite. And thus, in an evolution towards perfection, you would have been able to generate children, who should be men in their bodies and sons of the Intelligence in their souls: victors, strong, giants over Satan, who would have been vanquished so many thousand centuries before the hour, when he will be humiliated, and all his evil with him.»
5. Birth of the Virgin Mary.
26th August 1944.
I see Anne coming out of the garden. She is leaning on the arm of a relative, who is like her. She is obviously several months pregnant and she looks tired and her fatigue is not alleviated by the sultriness, just as this present heat is exhausting me.
Although the garden is shady, it is very hot and close. The air can be cut like a soft warm dough, it is so heavy. The sun's rays descend from a merciless blue sky and there is some dust making the atmosphere slightly dull. The weather must have been dry for a long time, because where there is no irrigation, the land is literally reduced to a very fine, almost white dust. Out in the open this shade of white is slightly pink, whereas it is a dark red‑brown under the trees, where the soil is damp. Likewise the ground is moist along the small flower‑beds, where rows of vegetables are growing, and around the rose bushes, the jasmines and other flowers, and particularly in the front of and along the beautiful pergola, which divides the orchard in two, up to the beginning of the fields, now stripped of their crops. The grass of the meadow, which marks the boundary of the property, is parched and thin. Only at its border, where there is a hedge of wild hawthorn, already completely studded with the rubies of its little fruits, is the grass greener and thicker. There are some sheep thereabouts with a young shepherd seeking pasture and shade.
Joachim is working around the rows of vines and olive‑trees. There are two men with him, helping him. Although an elderly man he is quick and works eagerly. They are opening little channels at the end of a field to give water to the dry plants, and this water makes its way gurgling between the grass and the dry land. The flow forms circles that for one moment resemble a yellowish crystal and seconds later are only rings of wet soil, around the overloaded vine branches and the olive‑trees.
Along the shady pergola, under which golden bees are buzzing, greedy for the sugar of the golden grapes, Anne moves slowly towards Joachim, who hastens towards her as soon as he sees her.
« You came so far? »
« The house is as hot as an oven.»
«And you suffer from it. »
« The only suffering of this last hour is that of a pregnant woman. The natural suffering of everybody: man and beast. Don't get too warm, Joachim.»
« The water we have been hoping for, for such a long time, and that for fully three days seemed so close, has not yet come and the country is parched. We are lucky to have a spring so near and so rich in water. I have opened the channels. It is a measure of relief for the plants which have withering leaves and are covered with dust: just enough to keep them alive. If it would only rain...» Joachim, with the eagerness of all farmers, looks at the sky, while Anne, tired, cools herself with a fan that seems to be made of the dry leaf of a palm interwoven with many‑coloured threads keeping it firm.
Anne's companion interrupts: « Over there, beyond the Great Hermon, fast clouds are arising. There is a northern wind. It will refreshen and perhaps bring rain.»
« The breeze has risen for three days and then it sets when the moon rises. It will do the same again.» Joachim is discouraged.
« Let us go back home. Even here one can hardly breathe, and in any case I think it is better to go back...» says Anne, who looks more olive‑hued than usual, owing to a paleness which has come over her face.
« Are you in pain? »
« No. But I can feel the great peace that I experienced in the Temple when I was granted the grace, and which I felt once again when I knew I was pregnant. It is like an ecstasy, a sweet sleep of the body while the soul rejoices and calms itself in a peace that has no bodily parallel. I have loved and still do love you, Joachim, and when I entered your house and I said to myself: "I am the wife of a just man", I had peace: and I felt the same every time your provident love took care of your Anne. But this peace is different. Understand: I think that the soul of our father Jacob was invaded by a similar peace, like the soothing given by oil that spreads and appeases, after he dreamt of the angels. And, possibly more accurately, it is like the joyful peace of the Tobiahs after Raphael appeared to them. If I absorb myself in this feeling, it grows more and more in strength while I enjoy it. It is as if I were ascending into the blue spaces of the sky... And furthermore, I don't know the reason for it, but since I have had this peaceful joy in me, I have a song in my heart: old Tobiah's song. I think it was written for this hour... for this joy... for the land of Israel that receives it... for Jerusalem‑sinner and now forgiven... But do not laugh at the frenzy of a mother... but when I say: "Thank the Lord for your wealth and bless the God of centuries, that He may rebuild His Tabernacle in you", I think that He Who will rebuild the Tabernacle of the true God in Jerusalem will be This One who is about to be born... And I also think that the destiny of my creature was prophesied and not the fate of the Holy City, when the song says: "You shall shine with a bright light: all the peoples of the world will prostrate themselves before you: the nations will come bringing gifts: they will worship the Lord in you and will hold your land as sacred, because within you they invoke the Great Name. You will be happy on account of your children, because they will all be blessed and they will gather near the Lord. Blessed are those who love you and rejoice in your peace..." And I am the first to rejoice, her happy mother...»
Anne changes colour, when saying these words and she lights up like something brought from the paleness of moonlight to the brightness of a great fire and vice versa. Sweet tears, of which she is unaware, run down her cheeks and she smiles in her joy. And in the meantime she moves towards the house, walking between her husband and her relative, who listen and, deeply moved, are silent.
They make haste because clouds driven by a strong wind, rush across and gather in the sky, while the plain darkens and shudders at the warning of a storm. When they reach the threshold of the dwelling, a first livid flash of lightning crosses the sky and the rumble of the first peal of thunder sounds like the roll of a huge drum that mingles with the arpeggio (1) of the first drops on the parched leaves.
They all go in and Anne withdraws, while Joachim, standing at the door, talks with the workers, who have in the meantime joined him: the conversation is about the longed for water which is a blessing for the parched land. But their joy turns into fear because a very violent storm is approaching with lightening and clouds threatening hail. « If the cloud bursts, it will crush the grapes and the olives like a millstone. Poor me! »
Joachim is also anxious for his wife, whose time has come to give birth to her child. His relative reassures him that Anne is not suffering at all. But he is agitated, and every time his relative or any other woman, amongst whom is Alphaeus' mother, comes out of Anne's room and goes back in again with hot water and basins and linens dried near the blazing fireplace in the large kitchen,
(1) Arpeggio: the sounding of notes in rapid succession.
he goes and makes enquiries, but he does not calm down despite their reassurances. Also the lack of cries from Anne worries him. He says: « I am a man and I have never seen a child being born. But I remember hearing that the absence of throes is fatal.»
It is growing dark and the evening is preceded by a furious and very violent storm: it brings torrential rain, wind, lightning, everything, except hail, which has fallen elsewhere.
One of the workers notices the ferocity of the gale: « It looks as if Satan has come out of Gehenna with his demons. Look at those black clouds! You can smell sulphur in the air and you can hear whistling and hisses, and wailing and cursing voices. If it is him, he is furious this evening! »
The other worker laughs and scoffs: « A great prey must have escaped him, or Michael has struck him with a new thunderbolt from God, and he has had his horns and tail clipped and burnt. »
A woman passes by and shouts: «Joachim! It is coming. And it is happening quickly and well!» and she disappears with a small amphora in her hands.
The storm drops suddenly, after one last thunderbolt that is so violent that it throws the three men against the side wall; and in front of the house, in the garden, a black smoky cavity remains as its memory! Meanwhile a cry, one resembling the tiny plea of a little turtle‑dove that for the very first time no longer peeps but cooes, is heard from beyond Anne's door. And at the same time a huge rainbow stretches its semicircle across the sky. It rises, or seems to rise, from the top of Hermon, which kissed by the sun, looks like a most delicate pinkish alabaster: it rises up in the clear September sky and through an atmosphere cleaned of all impurities, it crosses over the hills of Galilee and the plain to the south, and over another mountain, and seems to rest the other end on the distant horizon, where it drops from view behind a chain of high mountains.
« We have never seen anything like this! »
« Look, look! »
« It seems to enclose in a circle the whole of the land of Israel. And look! there is already a star in the sky while the sun has not yet set. What a star! It is shining like a huge diamond!...»
« And the moon, over there, is a full moon, three days early. But look how she is shining! »
The women arrive jubilant with a plump little baby wrapped in plain linens.
It is Mary, the Mother. A very tiny Mary, who could sleep in the arms of a child, a Mary as long, at most, as an arm, with a little head of ivory dyed pale pink. Her tiny carmine lips no longer cry but are set in the instinctive act of sucking: they are so small that one cannot understand how they will be able to take a teat. Her pretty little nose is between two tiny round cheeks, and when they get Her to open Her eyes, by teasing Her, they see two small parts of the sky, two innocent blue points that look but cannot see, between thin fair eyelashes. Also Her hair on Her little round head is a pinkish blond, like the colour of certain honeys which are almost white.
Her ears are two small shells, transparent, perfect. Her tiny hands... what are those two little things groping in the air and ending up in Her mouth? Closed, as they are now, they are two rose buds that split the green of their sepals and show their silk within. When they are open, as now, they are two ivory jewels, made of pink ivory and alabaster with five pale garnets as nails. How will those two tiny hands be able to dry so many tears?
And Her little feet? Where are they? For the time being they are just kicking, hidden in the linens. But now the relative sits down and uncovers Her... Oh, the little feet! They are about four centimetres long. Each sole is a coral shell, with a snow white top veined in blue. Her toes are masterpieces of Lilliputian sculpture: they, too, are crowned with small scales of pale garnet. But where will they find small sandals, when those little feet of a doll will take their first steps, sandals small enough to fit such tiny feet? And how will those little feet be able to go such a long way and bear so much pain under the cross?
But that for the time being is not known, and the onlookers smile and laugh at her kicking, at Her well shaped legs, at Her minute plumpish thighs that form dimples and rings, at Her little tummy, a cup turned upside‑down, at Her tiny perfect chest. Under the skin of Her breast, as soft as fine silk, the movement of Her breathing can be seen and the beating of Her little heart can be heard, if, as Her happy father is doing now, one lays one's lips there for a kiss... This is the most beautiful little heart the world will ever know: the only immaculate heart of a human being.
And Her back? They are now turning Her over and they can see the curve of Her kidneys and then the plump shoulders and the pink nape of Her neck, which is so strong that the little head lifts itself up on the arch of the minute vertebrae. It looks like the little head of a bird that scans the new world that it views. She, the Pure and Chaste One, protests with a little cry at being thus exposed to the eyes of so many, She, Entirely Virgin, the Holy and Immaculate, Whom no man will ever see nude again, protests.
Cover, do cover this bud of a lily which will never be opened on earth and which, still remaining a bud, will bear its Flower, even more beautiful than Herself. Only in Heaven the Lily of the Trine Lord will open all its petals. Because up there, there is no particle of fault that may unwillingly profane its spotlessness. Because up there the Trine God is to be received, in the presence of the whole Empyrean, the Trine God that within a few years, hidden in a faultless heart, will be in Her: Father, Son, Spouse.
Here She is again, in Her linens, in the arms of Her earthly father, whom She resembles. Not at the moment. Now She is just a little human baby. I mean that She will be like him when She has grown into a woman. She has nothing of Her mother. She has Her father's colour of complexion and eyes and certainly also his hair. His hair is now white, but when he was young it was certainly fair, as one can tell from his eyebrows. She has Her father's features, made more perfect and gentle, being a woman, but that special Woman. She has also the smile, the glance, the way of moving and height of Her father. Thinking of Jesus, as I see Him, I find Anne has given her height to her Grandson and her deep ivory colour to His skin. Mary, instead, has not the stateliness of Her mother: a tall and supple palm‑tree, but She has the kindness of Her father.
Also the women are speaking of the storm and the unusual state of the moon, of the presence of the star and the rainbow. Along with Joachim they enter the happy mother's room and give her her baby.
Anne smiles at one of her thoughts: « She is the Star » she says. « Her sign is in Heaven. Mary, arch of peace! Mary, my Star! Mary, pure moon! Mary, our pearl! »
« Are you calling Her Mary? »
« Yes. Mary, star and pearl and light and peace...»
« But it means also bitterness... Are you not afraid of bringing Her misfortune? »
« God is with Her. She belongs to Him before She existed. He will lead Her along His ways and all bitterness will turn into heavenly honey. Now be of Your mummy... for a little longer, before being all of God ...»
And the vision ends on the first sleep of Anne, a mother, and Mary, an infant.
27th August 1944.
« Rise and make haste, My little friend. I am longing to take you with Me on the heavenly contemplation of Mary's Virginity. You will emerge from this experience with your soul as fresh as if you too were created at the moment by the Father, a little Eve not yet aware of the flesh. You will emerge with your soul filled with light, because you will plunge into God's masterpiece. You will emerge with your whole being saturated in love, because you will, have understood the degree to which God can love. To speak of the conception of Mary, the Immaculate, means to penetrate the sky, light, love.
Come and read Her glories in the Book of the Ancestor. "God possessed me at the beginning of His works, from the beginning, before the Creation. From everlasting I was firmly set, in the beginning, before earth came into being, the deep did not yet exist and I was already conceived. The springs did not yet gush with water and the mountains had not yet risen in their huge masses, neither were the hills jewels in the sun, when I came to birth. God had not yet made the earth, the rivers and the foundation of the world, and I was there. When He prepared the Heavens I was present, when with immutable laws He enclosed the deep under the surface, when He fixed the Heavens firm and He suspended there the springs of water, when He assigned the sea its boundaries and gave laws to the waters, when He ordered the waters not to invade the shore, when He laid down the foundations of the earth, I was with Him arranging everything. I always played joyfully in His presence, I played in the universe..." You applied these words to Wisdom, but they speak of Her: the beautiful Mother, the holy Mother, the Virgin Mother of Wisdom that I am, Who am now speaking to you.
I wanted you to write the first line of the song at the top of the book that speaks of Her, that She might be contemplated and the consolation and joy of God might be known; the reason for the constant, perfect, intimate delight of this God One and Trine, Who rules and loves you and Who received from man so many reasons for being sad; the reason why He perpetuated the human race, even when, at the first test, humanity deserved to be destroyed; the reason for the forgiveness you have received.
To have Mary that loved Him! Oh! It was well worth while creating Man and allowing him to exist and decreeing to forgive him, to have the Beautiful Virgin, the Holy Virgin, the Immaculate Virgin, the Loving Virgin, the Beloved Daughter, the Most Pure Mother, the Loving Spouse! God has given you so much and would have given you even more to possess the Creature of His delight, the Sun of His sun, the Flower of His garden. And He continues to give you so much on account of Her, at Her request, for Her joy, because Her joy flows into the joy of God and increases it with flashes that fill the light, the great light of Paradise with brilliant sparkles and every sparkle is a grace to the universe, to mankind, to the blessed souls who reply with a jubilant cry of alleluia to each generation of divine miracle, created by the desire of the Blessed Trinity to see the sparkling smile of joy of the Virgin.
God desired to put a king in the universe that He had created out of nothing. A king, who by the nature of matter should be the first amongst all the creatures created with matter and endowed with matter. A king, who by nature of the spirit should be little less than divine, united to Grace as he was in his first innocent day. But the Supreme Mind, to Whom all the most remote events in centuries are known, incessantly sees what was, is and will be; and while It contemplates the past, and observes the present, It penetrates deeply with Its foresight into the most distant future and knows in every detail how the last man will die. Without confusion or discontinuity the Supreme Mind has always known that the king created to be demigod at Its side in Heaven, heir of the Father, would arrive adult in His Kingdom, after living in the house of his mother ‑the earth, with which he was made‑ during his childhood, as child of the Eternal Father for his day on earth. The Supreme Mind has always known that man would have committed against himself the crime of killing Grace in himself and the theft of robbing himself of Heaven.
Why then did He create him? Certainly many ask themselves why. Would you have preferred not to exist? Does this day not deserve, in itself, to be lived, although so poor and bare, and rendered harsh by your wickedness, so that you may know and admire the infinite Beauty that the hand of God has sown in the universe?
For whom would He have created the stars and planets that fly like thunderbolts and arrows, furrowing the vault of Heaven, or dash majestically in their rush of meteors, and yet seem slow, presenting you with light and seasons, eternally immutable and yet always mutable. They give you a new page to read on the sky, every evening, every month, every year, as if they wished to say: "Forget your restriction, forsake your printed matter which is full of obscure, putrid, dirty, poisonous, false, swearing, corrupting material and rise, at least with your eyes, to the unlimited freedom of the firmament, make your souls bright looking at so clear a sky. Build up a supply of light to take to your dark prison. Read the word that we write singing our sidereal chorus, which is more harmonious than the one drawn from a cathedral organ. The word that we write while shining, the word that we write while loving, because we always bear in mind Him Who gave us the joy of existing. And we love Him for giving us our existence, our brightness, our movement, our freedom, our beauty in the midst of the gentle azure, beyond which we can see an even more sublime blue: Paradise. And we fulfil the second part of His commandment of love, by loving you, our universal neighbours, loving you by giving you guidance and light, warmth and beauty. Read the word we say, the one on which we modulate our singing, our brightness, our smile: God!"
For whom would He have made the blue sea, the mirror of the sky, the way to the land, the smile of waters, the voice of waves? The sea itself is a word that with the rustling of silk, with the smiles of happy girls, with the sighs of old people who remember and weep, with the clamour of violence, with clashes and roars always speaks and says: "God". The sea is for you, as the sky and the stars are. And with the sea, the lakes and the rivers, the ponds and the streams, the pure springs, all of which serve to nourish you, to quench your thirst, to clean you: and they serve you serving their Creator, without submerging you, as you deserve.
For whom would He have made the countless families of animals, the beautifully coloured birds, that fly singing, and other animals that like servants, run, work, nourish you and succour you, their kings?
For whom would He have created the countless families of plants and flowers that look like butterflies, like gems and motionless birds, and the families of fruits that are like jewels or jewels cases and are a carpet for your feet and the trees that form shelters for your heads, a welcome relaxation and joy to your minds, your limbs, your sight and smell?
For whom would He have made the minerals in the bowels of the earth and the salts dissolved in cold and boiling springs, the iodines and the bromines, unless one should enjoy them, one who was not God, but the son of God? One: man.
The joy of God lacked nothing: God had no need. He is sufficient in Himself. He has only to contemplate Himself to rejoice, to nourish Himself, to live, to rest. The whole creation has not increased by one atom His infinite joy, beauty, life, power. He made everything for the creature that He wanted to place as king in the work made by Him: that creature is man.
It is worth while living to see such a work of God and to be grateful to His power that gives you the opportunity. And you must be grateful to be alive. You should have been grateful even if you had to wait till Doomsday to be redeemed, because you have been prevaricators, proud, lascivious and murderers in your First Parents and you are still so individually. Yet God allows you to enjoy the beauty of the universe, the goodness of the universe: and He treats you as if you were good children, who are taught and granted everything so that their lives might be happier and more pleasant. What you know, you know by the light of God. What you discover, you discover through the guidance of God. In Goodness. Other knowledge and discoveries that bear the mark of evil, come from the Supreme Evil: Satan.
The Supreme Mind, that knows everything, before man existed, knew that man would be a thief and self murderer. And as the Eternal Goodness has no limits in being good, before Guilt existed, He thought of the means to obliterate Guilt. The means: I, the Word. The instrument to render the means an efficient instrument: Mary. And the Virgin was created in the sublime mind of God.
Everything was created for Me, beloved Son of the Father. I‑King should have had under my Divine Royal feet carpets and jewels such as no royal palace had, and songs and voices and servants and ministers around me as no sovereign ever possessed, and flowers and gems, all the sublime, the greatness, the kindness that may derive from the thought of a God.
But I was to be Flesh as well as Spirit. Flesh to save the flesh. Flesh to sublime the flesh, taking it to Heaven many centuries before its time. Because the flesh inhabited by the spirit is God's masterpiece and Heaven had already been made for it. In order to become flesh I needed a Mother. To be God it was necessary that the Father was God.
Then God created His Spouse and said to Her: "Come with Me. At My side see what I am doing for our Son. Look and rejoice, eternal Virgin, eternal Maiden and may Your smile fill this Empyrean and give the angels their starting note and teach Paradise celestial harmony. I am looking at You. And I see You as You will be, Immaculate Woman, Who are now only a spirit: the spirit in which I rejoice. I am looking at You and I give the sea and the firmament the blue of Your eyes, the holy corn the colour of Your hair, whiteness to the lily and a rosy colour to the rose, like Your silky skin. I copy the pearls from Your minute teeth, I make the sweet strawberries watching Your mouth and I give the nightingale Your notes and the turtle‑doves Your weeping. And reading Your future thoughts and listening to the throbs of Your heart, I have the motive of guidance in creating. Come, My joy, have the worlds as a plaything as long as You will be the dancing light of My thought; have the worlds for Your smile, have wreaths and necklaces of stars; place the moon under Your gentle feet; make Galatea Your stellar scarf. The stars and planets are for You. Come and enjoy looking at the flowers that will be a childish joy for Your Baby and a pillow for the Son of Your womb. Come and see sheep and lambs, eagles and doves being created. Stay beside Me when I make the hollows of the seas and grooves of the rivers and I raise the mountains and I adorn them with snow and forests. Stay here while I sow fudders and trees and vines, and I make the olive‑tree for You, My Peaceful One, and the vine for You, My Vine branch who will bear the Eucharistic Bunch of grapes. Run, fly, rejoice, My Beauty. And may the universe which is created hour by hour learn from You to love Me, My Love, and may it become more beautiful owing to Your smile, Mother of My Son, Queen of My Paradise, Love of Your God". And again, seeing the Fault and admiring the Faultless One: "Come to Me, You Who wipe out the bitterness of human disobedience, of human fornication with Satan and of human ingratitude. I will take with You My revenge over Satan".
God, the Father Creator, had created man and woman with such a perfect law of love that you cannot even understand its perfection any longer. And you become lost in wondering how the human species would have come to be, if man had not been taught by Satan how to obtain it.
Look at the fruit and seed plants. Do they produce seed and fruit by means of fornication, by means of one fecundation out of one hundred copulations? No. The pollen emerges from the male flower and driven by a complex of meteoric and magnetic laws it proceeds to the ovary of the female flower. The latter opens, receives it and produces. It does not pollute itself and then refuse it, as you do, to enjoy the same sensation the following day. It produces and until the new season, it does not get pollinated and when it does, it is only to produce.
Look at the animals. All of them. Have you ever seen a male animal and a female one approach each other for a sterile embrace and lascivious dealings? No. From near or far, they fly, crawl, jump or run, they go, when it is time, to the fecundation rite. Neither do they evade stopping at the pleasure, but they go further, to the serious and holy consequences of the offspring, the only reason that should cause a man, a demigod by his origin of Grace which I have made complete, to accept the animality of the act, necessary since you descended by one degree towards animals.
You do not act as plants and animals do. You had as your teacher Satan. You wanted him as your teacher and you still want him. And the works you do are what one would expect of the teacher you wanted. Had you been faithful to God, you would have had the joy of children, in a holy way, without pain, without exhausting yourselves in obscene and shameful intercourses, which even beasts are unacquainted with, although beasts are without a reasoning and spiritual soul.
To man and woman, corrupted by Satan, God decided to oppose the Man born of a Woman, Whom God had super‑sublimed to such an extent that She generated without knowing man: a Flower that generates a Flower, without the need of seed, by a unique kiss of the Sun on the inviolated chalice of the Lily‑Mary.
The revenge of God!
Hiss, O Satan, your hatred while She comes into the world! This Child has beaten you! Before you were the Rebel, the Twister, the Corruptor, you were already beaten and She was your Conqueror. One thousand assembled armies are of no avail against your power, the arms of men fall before your scales, o Perennial One, and there is no wind capable of dispersing the stench of your breath. And yet, the heel of this Child, which is so rosy as to look like the inside of a rosy camellia, and is so smooth and soft that silk seems coarse in comparison, and is so small that it could enter the chalice of a tulip and make itself a tiny shoe with that vegetable satin, that heel is crushing your head without any fear and relegates you to your den. And Her cry causes you to flee away, although you are not afraid of armies. And Her breath purifies the world of your foul smell. You are defeated. Her name, Her look, Her purity are a lance, a thunderbolt that pierces you and demolishes you and imprisons you in your den in Hell, o Cursed One, who deprived God of the joy of being the Father of all men created!
In vain you have corrupted them, who had been created innocent, leading them to knowledge and conception by means of the sensuousness of lust, depriving God, in His beloved creature, of being the benefactor of the children according to rules, which, had they been respected, would have kept a balance on earth between sexes and races, a balance capable of averting wars between peoples and calamities between families.
By obeying, they would have also known love. Nay, only by obeying they would have known love and possessed it. A complete and peaceful possession of this gift from God, Who from the supernatural descends to the inferior, so that also the flesh may rejoice devoutly, since it is united to the spirit and created by Him Who created the spirit.
Now, men, what is your love, what are your loves? Either lewdness disguised as love or an incurable fear of losing the love of your partner through her or other people's lewdness. You are never sure of possessing the heart of your husband or wife, since lust entered the world. And you tremble and cry and become overwrought with jealousy, sometimes you kill to avenge a betrayal, sometimes you despair, and sometimes you lack will or even become insane.
This is what you have done, Satan, to the children of God. Those whom you have corrupted, would have known the joy of having children without suffering any pain and would have experienced the joy of being born without fear of dying. But now you are beaten in a Woman and by a Woman. From now on, whoever loves Her will become once again God's own, overcoming your temptations, to be able to look at Her immaculate purity. From now on mothers, though not able to conceive without pain, will find comfort in her. From now on She will be the guide of married women and the Mother of dying people, so that it will be sweet to die resting on that breast which is a shield against you, you Cursed One, and against the wrath of God.
Mary, little voice, you have seen the birth of the Virgin's Son and the assumption of the Virgin to Heaven. You have therefore seen that the faultless ones are unaware of the pain in giving birth as well as of the pain in dying. But if the Most Innocent Mother of God was granted the perfection of celestial gifts, all those who in the First Parents had remained innocent and sons of God, would have generated without throes as it was fair, having conceived without lust, and they would have died without anxiety.
The sublime victory of God over Satan's revenge was to raise the perfection of the beloved creature to a super‑perfection that should annul at least in one person all recollection of humanity, liable to Satan's poison, so that the Son should be generated not by a man's chaste embrace, but by a divine embrace that causes the spirit to change colour in the ecstasy of the Fire.
The Virgin's Virginity!...
Come. Contemplate this deep virginity that gives ecstatic dizziness in its contemplation! What is the poor enforced virginity of a woman that no man married? Less than nothing. What is the virginity of a woman who wanted to be a virgin to belong to God, but is so in her body and not in her spirit, where she allows alien thoughts to enter and entertains allurements of human thoughts? It is a sham virginity. But still very little. What is the virginity of a cloistered nun who lives only for God? Very much. But it is never the perfect virginity when compared with My Mother's.
There has always been an association, also in the most holy one. The original association between spirit and fault. The one that only Baptism dissolves. It dissolves it, but as in the case of a woman separated from her husband by his death, it does not render virginity complete such as it was in the First Parents before Sin. A scar remains and hurts causing one to remember it, and it is always ready to become a sore like certain diseases that periodically are made worse by their virus. In the Virgin there is no sign of this dissolved association with the Fault. Her soul appears beautiful and intact as when the Father conceived Her, gathering all graces in Her.
She is the Virgin. She is the Only One. She is the Perfect One. The Complete One. Conceived as such. Generated as such. Remained such. Crowned such. Eternally such. She is the Virgin. She is the acme of intangibility, of purity, of grace that is lost in the Abyss from which it emerged: in God: most perfect Intangibility, Purity, Grace.
That is the revenge of the God Trine and One. Against creatures desecrated He raises this Star to perfection. Against pernicious curiosity He raises this Coy Virgin, contented only with loving God. Against the science of evil, this sublime Innocent Virgin. In Her there is not only no knowledge of dejected love: there is not only non‑acquaintance with the love that God had given to married people. Much more. In Her there is the absence of incentives, the inheritance of Sin. In Her there is only the icy and white‑hot wisdom of divine love. A fire that strengthens the flesh with ice, so that it may be a transparent mirror at the altar where God married a Virgin and does not lower Himself because His perfection embraces Her perfection, which, as it becomes a bride, is only inferior to His by one point, subject to Him as a Woman, but without fault as He is. »
6. The Purification of Anne and the Offering of Mary.
28th August 1944.
In Jerusalem I see Joachim and Anne, together with Zacharias and Elizabeth, coming out from a house, which must belong to friends or relatives, and they are turning their steps towards the Temple for the ceremony of the Purification.
Anne is carrying the Baby, all wrapped up in swaddling clothes, nay, all tied up in a wide garment of light wool, which, however, must be soft and warm. It is impossible to describe how carefully and lovingly she carries and watches her little creature, lifting the edge of the fine warm cloth to see if Mary is breathing freely, and then she readjusts it to protect Her from the sharp air of a clear but cold winter day.
Elizabeth is holding some parcels in her hands. Joachim is pulling with a rope two big and very white lambs, that are more like rams than lambs. Zacharias has nothing in his hands. He is handsome in his linen garment, which can be seen under a white heavy woollen mantle. Zacharias, much younger than the one already seen at the birth of the Baptist, in his full manhood, as Elizabeth is a mature woman, but still fresh in her appearance: and she bends in ecstasy over the tiny sleeping face, every time Anne looks at the Baby. She also looks beautiful in her blue almost dark violet dress and in her veil that covers her head and then falls on her shoulders, and on the mantle which is darker than her dress.
But Joachim and Anne are certainly solemn in their best clothes. Unexpectedly, he is not wearing his dark brown tunic. Instead he has on a long garment of a very deep red, which we would now call St. Joseph's red, and the fringes attached to his mantle are new and beautiful. He, too, is wearing a kind of a rectangular veil on his head and it is secured with a leather band. Everything is new and of excellent quality.
Anne, oh! She is not wearing dark clothes to‑day! Her dress is a very pale yellow, almost the colour of old ivory, tied at her waist, neck and wrists with a large belt that seems of silver and gold. Her head is covered by a very light damask veil, held at her forehead by a thin but precious plate. She has a filigree necklace round her neck and bracelets at her wrists. She is like a queen, also because of the dignity with which she wears her dress, and particularly her cape, which is of a light yellow colour hemmed with a Greek fret beautifully embroidered in the same shade.
« You look exactly as the day you got married. I was just a little older than a girl, then, but I still remember how beautiful and happy you were » says Elizabeth.
« But now I am even more so... and I decided to wear the same dress for this rite. I had kept it for this... and I was no longer expecting to put it on for this.»
« The Lord has loved you very much...» says Elizabeth sighing.
« And that is why I am giving Him the thing I love most. This flower of mine. »
« How will you be able to tear it from your heart when the time comes? »
« Remembering that I did not have it and that God gave it to me. I shall always be happier now than then. When I know She is in the Temple I will say to myself: "She is praying near the Tabernacle, She is praying the God of Israel also for Her mummy" and I will have peace. And a greater peace I will have in saying: "She belongs entirely to Him. When these two old but happy parents, who received Her from Heaven, are no longer alive, He, the Eternal, will still be Her Father". Believe me, I am fully convinced, this little creature is not ours. I was not able to do anything more... He put Her in my bosom, a divine gift to wipe away my tears and fulfil our hopes and our prayers. That is why She belongs to Him. We are the happy guardians... and may He be blessed for this! »
They have now reached the walls of the Temple.
« While you go to Nicanor's Gate, I will go and inform the priest. And then I will come, too » Zacharias says. And he disappears behind an arch leading into a large yard surrounded by porches.
The group continues to proceed along the ensuing terraces. I do not know whether I have said this before: the enclosure wall of the Temple is not on level ground but it rises up higher and higher by means of successive terraces. Each terrace is reached by means of a flight of steps and on each terrace there are yards and porches and beautiful portals wrought in marble, bronze and gold.
Before reaching their destination they stop to take out the contents of the parcels: cakes, I think, which are wide and flat and very greasy, some white flour, two doves in a small wicker cage and some big silver coins: they are quite heavy but fortunately garments did not have pockets in those days. They would have made holes in them.
Here is the beautiful Gate of Nicanor, all chiselled in heavy bronze silver plating. Zacharias is already there beside a stately priest dressed in linen.
Anne is sprinkled with what I suppose is lustral water and then she is instructed to move towards the altar of the sacrifice. The Child is no longer in her arms. Elizabeth, who has stopped at this side of the Gate, has taken Her.
Joachim, instead, enters behind his wife, dragging a miserable bleating lamb. And I... I do exactly what I did on the occasion of Mary's purification: I close my eyes not to see any slaughter.
Now Anne is purified.
Zacharias whispers something to his colleague, who nods smiling. He then approaches the group which has reassembled and congratulating the mother and father on their joy and their loyalty to the promises, he is given the second lamb, the flour and the cakes.
« So this daughter is sacred to the Lord? May His blessing be with Her and with you. Here Anna is coming. She will be one of Her teachers. Anna of Phanuel of the tribe of Asher. Come here, woman. This little one is offered to the Temple as a victim of praise. You will be Her teacher and She will grow holy under your guidance.»
Anna, already completely grey, fondles the Child, who has awakened and is looking with Her innocent and surprised eyes at all the white and gold lit up by the sun.
The ceremony must be over. I did not see any special rite for the offering of Mary. Perhaps it was sufficient to tell the priest, and above all God, at the sacred place.
« I would like to give the offering to the Temple and go over there where I saw the light last year.»
They go accompanied by Anna of Phanuel. They do not enter the actual Temple; since they are women and it is the case of a little girl, it is understandable that they do not even go where Mary went to offer Her Son. But very close to the wide open door, they look into the half‑dark inside from which sweet songs of girls can be heard and where precious lamps are lit and spread a golden light on two flower beds of white veiled heads: two real flowerbeds of lilies.
« In three years' time You will be there too, my Lily » promises Anne to Mary, Who looks fascinated at the inside and smiles at the slow song.
« You would say that She understands » says Anna of Phanuel. « She is a beautiful child! She will be as dear to me as if She were my own. I promise you, mother. If I shall be granted to be so.»
« You shall, woman » Zacharias says. « You will receive Her amongst the sacred girls. I also shall be there. I want to be there that day to tell Her to pray for us from the very first moment...» and he looks at his wife who understands and sighs.
The ceremony is over and Anna of Phanuel withdraws, while the others leave the Temple speaking to one another.
I hear Joachim say: « Not only two lambs and the best, but I would have given all my lambs for this joy and to praise God! »
I do not see anything else.
« Solomon in his Wisdom says: "Whoever is a child, let him come to me". And really from the stronghold, from the walls of her city, Eternal Wisdom said to the Eternal Maiden: "Come to Me", longing to have Her. Later the Son of the Most Pure Maiden will say: "Let little children come to Me because the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs, and those who do not become like them will not have any part in My Kingdom". The voices follow one another and while the voice of Heaven cries to little Mary: "Come to Me", the voice of Man says, and thinks of His Mother in saying so: "Come to Me if you can be like children".
I give you My Mother as a model.
Here is the perfect Maiden with the pure and simple heart of a dove, here is the One Whom years and worldly contacts do not make defiant in the cruelty of a corrupted, twisted, false spirit. Because She does not want it. Come to Me, looking at Mary.
Since you see Her, tell me: Is Her glance as an infant very different from the one you saw She had at the foot of the Cross or in the delight of Pentecost or when Her eyelids closed upon Her innocent eyes for Her last sleep? No. Here is the uncertain and astonished glance of an infant, then it will be the amazed and modest look of the Annunciation, and then the happy one of the Mother in Bethlehem, then the worshipping glance of My first and sublime Disciple, then the tormented one of the Tortured Mother on Golgotha, then the radiant glance of Resurrection and Pentecost, then the veiled look of the ecstatic sleep of the last vision. But whether it opens at the first sight, or closes tired on the last light, after seeing so much of joy and horror, Her eye is the clear, pure, placid piece of the sky that always shines below Mary's forehead. Wrath, falsehood, pride, lewdness, hatred, curiosity never soil it with their smoky clouds.
It is the eye that looks at God lovingly, whether it cries or laughs, and that for God's sake fondles and forgives and bears everything, and by the love of God is rendered unassailable to the assaults of Evil, that so often makes use of the eye to penetrate the heart. It is the pure, restful, blessing eye that the pure, the saints, the lovers of God possess.
I said: "The lamp of the body is the eye. If your eye is sound, your whole body will be filled with light. But if your eye is diseased, your whole body will be all darkness". Saints possessed this eye which is the light for the soul and salvation for the flesh, because like Mary throughout their lives they looked only at God. Even more: they remembered God.
I will explain to you, My little voice, the meaning of this word of Mine.»
7. The Son Has Put His Wisdom on His Mother's Lips.
29th August 1944.
I see Anne once again: since yesterday evening I see her thus: sitting at the entrance of the shady pergola, busy at her needlework. She is wearing a grey sand coloured dress, a very simple one and very wide, probably because of the great heat.
At the end of the pergola the mowers can be seen cutting the hay. But it cannot be first‑crop hay because the grapes are almost golden coloured and the fruits of a large apple‑tree are like shiny yellow and red wax. The cornfield is nothing but stubble with poppies waving like tiny flames and stiff and clear cornflowers shaped like stars and as blue as the eastern sky.
A little Mary comes forwards from the shady pergola: She is already quick and independent. Her short step is steady and Her white sandals do not stumble amongst the pebbles. Her graceful gait already resembles the slightly undulating step of a dove, and She is all white ‑like a little dove‑ in Her linen dress which reaches down to Her ankles. It is a wide dress curled at the neck by a blue ribbon and the short sleeves show rosy and plump forearms. She looks like a little angel: Her hair is silky and honey‑blonde, not very curly but gracefully wavy ending in curls: Her eyes are sky blue, Her sweet little face is rosy and smiling. Also the breeze that through Her wide sleeves inflates the shoulders of Her linen dress helps to give Her the appearance of a little angel having his wings half‑open ready to fly.
She has in Her hands poppies, cornflowers and other flowers that grow in cornfields, but I do not know their names. She is walking and when She is near Her mother She starts running, shouting joyfully and, like a little dove, She ends Her flight against Her mother's knees: she has opened them to receive Her. Anne has put her needlework aside so that She would not get pricked and has opened her arms to embrace Her.
So far yesterday evening. This morning She reappears and continues as follows.
« Mummy, Mummy! » The little white dove is completely in the nest of Her mother's knees, touching the short grass with Her little feet and hiding Her face in Her mother's lap, so that only Her golden hair can be seen on the nape of Her neck over which Anne bends to kiss it fondly.
Then She lifts Her head and offers Her mother flowers. They are all for Her mummy and of each one She tells the story She has invented.
This blue and big one, is a star which has come down from Heaven to bring the kiss of the Lord to My mummy. Here: kiss this little celestial flower there, on its heart, and you will see that it tastes of God.
This other one, instead, which is a paler blue, like daddy's eyes, has written on its leaves that the Lord loves daddy very much because he is good.
And this tiny little one, the only one to be found, (it is a myosote), is the one that God made to tell Mary that He loves Her.
And these red ones, does mummy know what they are? They are pieces of king David's dress, stained with the blood of the enemies of Israel and sown on the battlefields and the fields of victory. They originate from those strips of the heroic regal dress torn in the struggle for the Lord.
Instead this white and gentle one, that seems to be made with seven silk cups looking up to the sky, full of perfumes, and that was growing over there, near the spring ‑daddy picked it for Her amongst the thorns‑ is made with the dress of Solomon. He wore it, so many many years before, in the same month in which his little granddaughter was born, when he walked in the midst of the multitudes of Israel before the Ark and the Tabernacle, in the splendid majesty of his robes. And he rejoiced because of the cloud which returned to encircle his glory, and he sang the canticle and the prayer of his joy.
« I want to be always like this flower, and like the wise king I want to sing throughout My life canticles and prayers before the Tabemacle » ends Mary.
« How do You know these holy things, my darling? Who told You? Your father? »
« No. I do not know who it is. I think I have always known them. Perhaps there is one who tells Me and I do not see him. Perhaps one of the angels that God sends to speak to good people. Mummy, will you tell Me another story? »
« Oh, my dear! Which story do You wish to know? »
Mary is thinking, deeply absorbed in Her thoughts. Her expression should be immortalized in a portrait. The shadows of Her thoughts are reflected on Her childish face. There are smiles and sighs, sunshine and clouds, thinking of the history of Israel. Then She makes up Her mind: « Once again the story of Gabriel and Daniel, where Christ is promised.»
And She listens, with Her eyes closed, repeating in a low voice the words Her mother says, as if to remember them better. When Anne comes to the end She asks: « How long will it be before we have the Immanuel? »
« About thirty years, my darling.»
« Such a long time! And I shall be in the Temple... Tell Me, if I should pray very hard, so hard, day and night, night and day, and I wanted to belong only to God, for all My life, for this purpose, would the Eternal Father grant Me the grace of sending the Messiah to His people sooner? »
« I do not know, my dear. The Prophet states: "Seventy weeks". I do not think a prophecy can be wrong. But the Lord is so good » she hastens to add, seeing tears appear on the fair eyelashes of her child, « the Lord is so good that I believe that if You do pray very hard, so hard, He will hear Your prayer.»
A smile appears once again on Her little face, which She has lifted up towards Her mother and the rays of the sun, filtering through the vine branches cause Her tears to shine like dew‑drops on very thin stems of alpine moss.
« Then I will pray and I shall be a virgin for this.»
« But do you know what that means? »
« It means that one does not know human love, but only the love of God. It means that one has no other thought but for the Lord. It means to remain children in the flesh and angels in the heart. It means that one has no eyes but to look at God, and ears to listen to Him, and a mouth to praise Him, hands to offer oneself as a victim, feet to follow Him fast, and a heart and a life to be given to Him.»
« May God bless You! But then You will never have any children, and yet You love babies and little lambs and doves so much... Do You know that? A baby is for his mother like a little white and curly lamb, he is like a little dove with silk feathers and coral mouth to be loved and kissed and heard say: "Mummy!" »
« It does not matter. I shall belong to God. I shall pray in the Temple. And perhaps one day I will see the Immanuel. The Virgin who is to be His Mother must be already born, as the great Prophet says, and She is in the Temple... I will be Her companion on... and maidservant. Oh! Yes. If I could only meet Her, by God's light, I would like to serve Her, the Blessed One. And later, She would bring Me Her Son, She would take Me to Her Son, and I would serve Him too... Just think, mummy!... To serve the Messiah!! » Mary is overcome by this thought that exalts Her and makes Her totally humble at the same time. With Her hands crossed over Her breast and Her little head slightly bent forward and flushed with emotion, She is like an infantile reproduction of the Annunciation that I saw. She resumes: « But will the King of Israel, the Lord's Anointed, allow Me to serve Him? »
« Have no doubts about that. Does King Solomon not say: "There are sixty queens and eighty concubines and countless maidens?" You can see that in the King's palace there will be countless maidens serving the Lord.»
« Oh! You can see then that I must be a virgin? I must. If He wants a virgin as His Mother, it means that He loves virginity above all things. I want Him to love Me, His maiden, because of the virginity which will make Me somewhat like His beloved Mother... This is what I want... I would also like to be a sinner, a big sinner, if I were not afraid of offending the Lord... Tell Me, mummy, can one be a sinner out of love of God? »
« But what are You saying, my dear? I don't understand You.»
« I mean: to commit a sin in order to be loved by God, Who becomes the Saviour. Who is lost, is saved. Isn't that so? I would like to be saved by the Saviour to receive His loving look. That is why 1 would like to sin, but not to commit a sin that would disgust Him. How can He save Me if I do not get lost?»
Anne is dumbfounded. She does not know what to say.
Joachim helps her. He has approached them walking noiselessly on the grass, behind the low hedge of vine‑shoots. « He has saved You beforehand, because He knows that You love Him and You want to love Him only. So You are already redeemed and You can be a virgin as You wish » says Joachim.
« Is that true, daddy? » Mary embraces his knees and looks at him with Her clear blue eyes, so like Her father's and so happy because of this hope She gets from Her father.
« It is true, my little darling. Look! I was just bringing You this little sparrow, that at its first flight landed near the spring. I could have left it there but its weak wings did not have enough strength to fly off again, and its tiny legs could not hold it on to the slippery moss stones. It would have fallen into the water. But I did not wait for that. I took it and now I am giving it to You. You will do what you like with it. The fact is that it was saved before it fell into the danger. God has done the same with You. Now, tell me, Mary: have I loved the sparrow more by saving it beforehand, or would I have loved it more saving it afterwards? »
« You have loved it now, because you did not let it get hurt in the cold water.»
« And God has loved You more, because He has loved You before You sinned.»
« And I will love Him wholeheartedly. Wholeheartedly. My beautiful little sparrow, I am like you. The Lord has loved us both equally, by saving us... I will now rear you and then I will let you go. And you in the forest and I in the Temple will sing the praises of God, and we shall say: "Please send the One You promised to those who expect Him". Oh! Daddy, when are you taking Me to the Temple? »
« Soon, my dear. But are You not sorry to leave Your father? »
« Yes, very much! But you will come... in any case, if it did not hurt, what sacrifice would it be? »
« And will You remember us? »
« I always will. After the prayer for the Immanuel I will pray for you. That God may give you joy and a long life... until the day He becomes the Saviour. Then I will ask Him to take you to the celestial Jerusalem. »
The vision ends with Mary tightly clasped in Her father's arms.
«I can already hear the comments of the doctors with captious objections: "How can a little girl not yet three years old speak thus? It is an exaggeration". And they do not consider that they make a monster of Me by ascribing adults' actions to My own childhood.
Intelligence is not given to everybody in the same way and at the same time. The Church has fixed the age of reason at six years of age, because that is the age when even a backward child can tell good from evil, at least in basically important matters. But there are children who long before that age are capable of discerning and understanding and wanting with sufficiently developed discretion. Little Imelde Lambertini, Rosa da Viterbo, Nellie Organ, Nennolina, may give you confirmation, o difficult doctors, to believe that My Mother was able to think and speak like that. I have quoted four names at random amongst the thousands of holy children who populate My Paradise, after reasoning on earth as adults for possibly more or fewer years.
What is reason? A gift of God. God can therefore give it as He wishes, to whom He wishes and when He wishes. Reason in fact is one of the things that make you more like God, the Intelligent and Reasoning Spirit. Reason and intelligence were graces given by God to Man in the Earthly Paradise. How full of life they were, when Grace was alive, still intact and active in the spirit of the first two Parents!
In the Book of Jesus Ben Sirach it is stated: "All wisdom is from the Lord, and it is His own for ever". What wisdom, therefore, would men have had, had they remained children of God?
The gaps in your intelligence are the natural fruits of your fall from Grace and honesty. By losing Grace you banished Wisdom for centuries. As a meteor which is hidden behind masses of clouds, Wisdom no longer reached you with its bright flashes, but through mist which your prevarications have rendered thicker and thicker.
Then Christ came and He restored Grace, the supreme gift of the love of God. But do you know how to keep this gem clear and pure? No, you do not. When you do not crush it with your individual will in sinning, you soil it with your continuous minor faults, your weaknesses, your attachment to vice. Such attempts, even if they are not a proper marriage with the septiform vice, are a weakening of the light of Grace and of its activity. And then, to weaken the magnificent light of intelligence that God had given the First Parents, you have centuries and centuries of corruption, which exert a harmful influence on the body and on the mind.
But Mary was not only the Pure, the new Eve created for the joy of God: She was the super Eve, the Masterpiece of the Most High, She was the Full of Grace, the Mother of the Word in the mind of God.
Jesus Ben Sirach says: "Source of Wisdom is the Word". Will the Son therefore not have put His wisdom on His Mother's lips?
If the mouth of a Prophet was purified with embers, because he had to repeat to men the words that the Word, the Wisdom, entrusted to Him, will Love not have cleansed and exalted the speech of his infant Spouse Who was to bear the Word, so that She should no longer speak as a little girl and then as a woman, but only and always as a celestial creature melted in the great light and wisdom of God?
The miracle is not in the superior intelligence shown by Mary in Her childhood, as afterwards it was by Me. The miracle is in containing the Infinite Intelligence, that dwelt there, within suitable bounds, so that crowds should not be startled and satanic attention should not be awakened.
I will talk again on this subject which is part of the "remembrance" which saints have of God.»
8. Mary Is Presented in the Temple.
30th August 1944.
I see Mary between Her father and mother walking in the streets in Jerusalem.
Passers‑by stop to look at the beautiful Girl all dressed in white and wearing a very light mantle. The mantle, because of its design in branches and flowers, which are a little darker against the soft background, seems to be the same one that Anne was wearing on the day of her Purification. The only difference is that while it reached down to Anne's waist, in the case of Mary, Who is only a little girl, it reaches down to Her ankles and envelops Her in a small light and bright cloud of rare beauty.
Her fair hair, loose on Her shoulders, or rather, on Her gentle neck, shines through the veil where there is no pattern, but only the very light background. The veil is held on Her forehead by a very pale blue ribbon, on which small lilies are embroidered with silver threads, certainly the work of Her mother.
As I said, the snow white dress reaches down to the ground, and Her little feet can just be seen, as She walks, in Her white sandals. Her hands are like two magnolia petals, peeping from the long sleeves. Apart from the blue ribbon, there is no other colour. It is all white. Mary seems to be dressed in snow.
Joachim is wearing the same garment he had on for the Purification. Anne, instead, is wearing a very dark violet dress. Also the mantle, which also covers her head, is dark violet. She is holding it lowered below her eyes. Two poor eyes of a mother, red with tears, that do not wish to weep and above all do not wish to be seen crying, but can but shed tears under the protection of the mantle, a protection that serves its purpose with regard to passers‑by and also to Joachim, whose eyes, usually clear, are to‑day red and dull, because of the tears he has shed and is still shedding. He is walking with a stoop, his head is covered by a veil worn in the fashion of a turban, with the folds hanging down along his face.
A very old Joachim. Whoever sees him, must think that he is the grandfather or the great grandfather of the little girl he is holding by the hand. The pain of losing Her causes the poor father to drag his feet and he is so weary that he looks twenty years older. He is so sad and tired that he looks like an old sick man. His mouth trembles slightly between the two wrinkles that at the sides of his nose are so deep today.
They are both endeavouring to conceal their tears. But if they are successful with many people, they are not with Mary, Who, because of Her height, sees them from below, and lifting Her head looks at Her father and mother alternately. They make an effort to smile at Her with their trembling mouths and they hold Her tiny hand tighter every time their little daughter looks at them and smiles. They must be thinking: « There. A smile to be seen one time less.»
They proceed slowly. Very slowly. They seem to be wishing to protract their journey for as long as possible. Everything serves as a pretext to stop... But a journey must come to an end! And this one is about to end. Up there, at the top of this last stretch of the road, there are the Temple walls. Anne utters a groan and holds Mary's hand tighter.
« Anne, my dear, I am here with you! » a voice utters, coming out from the shade of a low arch built over a cross‑roads. And Elizabeth, who was waiting for them, approaches her and embraces her. And since Anne is crying she says: «Come into this friendly house for a little while. Then we shall go together. Also Zacharias is here.»
They all enter a low dark room where the only light is a big fire. The landlady, obviously a friend of Elizabeth's, but unknown to Anne, kindly withdraws and leaves them alone.
« You must not think that I am repenting or I am giving my treasure to the Lord unwillingly » explains Anne crying, « but it's my heart... oh! how my heart aches, my old heart that is returning to its childless solitude! If you could only feel...»
« I know, my dear Anne... But you are good and God will console you in your solitude. Mary will pray for the peace of Her mother. Won't you, Mary? »
Mary caresses Her mother's hands and kisses them. She presses them to Her face to be caressed and Anne holds Her little face tightly in her hands and kisses it repeatedly. She is never tired of kissing Her.
Zacharias enters and greets them saying: « May the peace of the Lord be with the just.»
« Yes » replies Joachim, « implore peace for us, because our hearts are trembling in our offer, as Abraham's did, while he was climbing the mountain, but we shall not find another offer to replace this one. Neither do we want it, because we are faithful to the Lord. But we are suffering, Zacharias. Since you are a priest of God, please understand us and do not be perturbed.»
«Never. On the contrary, your sorrow which does not go beyond reasonable limits and does not shake your faith, teaches me how to love the Most High. But take heart. Anna, the prophetess, will take care of this flower of David and Aaron. At present She is the only lily of David's holy issue in the Temple and She will be taken care of as a royal pearl. Although we are approaching the time when the Messiah is to come, and the women belonging to the house of David should be anxious to consecrate their daughters to the Temple, because the Messiah will be born of a virgin of David's issue, yet, because of the general weakening of faith, the places of the virgins in the Temple are empty. They are too few and none of the royal offspring, since Sarah of Elisha left three years ago to get married. It is true that there are still thirty years to the appointed time, but... Well let us hope that Mary will be the first of many virgins of David's offspring before the Sacred Veil. And then... who knows...» Zacharias does not say anything else. But he looks at Mary thoughtfully. Then he resumes: « Also I will watch over Her. I am a priest and I have power in here. I will make use of it for this angel. And Elizabeth will often come to see Her.»
« Oh! Certainly! I am in such need of God that I will come and tell this little Girl, so that She may tell the Eternal One.»
Anne has taken heart again. To relieve her anxiety even more Elizabeth asks her: « Is this not the veil of your wedding? Or have you been weaving new byssus? »
« It is. I am consecrating it to the Lord with Her. My eyes are no longer so good... and also our wealth has been reduced by taxation and misfortunes... I could not afford heavy expenses. I have only seen to Her clothing for the time She will be in the House of the Lord and afterwards... Because I do not think that I shall be there to dress Her for Her wedding... but I want it to be the hands of Her mummy, even if cold and motionless, which prepare Her for the wedding and weave Her linens and dresses.»
« Oh! Why think of that!? »
« I am old, my dear cousin. I have never felt it so much as I do now in my great pain. I have given the last ounce of strength in my life to this flower, to bear Her and to nourish Her, and now the pain of losing Her is drawing my last strength away and dispersing it.»
« Don't say that, for Joachim's sake.»
« Yes, you are quite right. I will try and live for my husbands.»
Joachim pretends he has not heard, intent as he is on listening to Zacharias, but he has heard and he sighs deeply, his eyes shining with tears.
« It is between the third and the sixth hour. I think we ought to go » Zacharias says.
They all get up to put on their mantles and set off.
But before going out Mary kneels down on the threshold with Her arms stretched out: a little imploring cherub. « Father! Mother! Your blessing, please.»
She is not crying, the little brave girl. But Her lips are trembling and Her voice, broken by a sob, resembles more than ever the trembling cooing of a little dove. Her face is pale, and Her eyes have the look of resigned distress which I will see again on Calvary and in the Sepulchre, where it was so much more intense that it was impossible to look at Her without deep suffering.
Her parents bless Her and kiss Her: once, twice, ten times, they are never satisfied... Elizabeth is weeping silently and Zacharias, notwithstanding his efforts to conceal his tears, is deeply moved.
They go out. Mary is between Her father and mother as before. Zacharias and his wife are in front of them.
They are now inside the walls of the Temple. « I will go to the High Priest. You go to the Great, Terrace.»
They go across three yards and through three halls, set one upon the other. They are now at the foot of the huge marble cube crowned with gold. Every dome, convex like a huge half orange, blazes in the sun, which now, at midday, is shining down directly on to the large yard surrounding the solemn building and is filling with its dazzling light the large square and the wide flight of steps leading up to the Temple. Only the porch facing the steps, along the façade, is in the shade and the very high bronze and gold door is even darker and more solemn looking in so much light.
Mary looks whiter than snow in so much sunshine. She is now at the foot of the steps, between Her father and Her mother. How violently their hearts must be throbbing! Elizabeth is beside Anne, but a little behind her, about half a step.
Upon the blare of silver trumpets the door rotates on its hinges, which seem to be emitting the sound of a cithern, while turning on the bronze balls. The interior appears with its lamps in the far end and a procession is moving towards the door, a stately procession with silver trumpets, clouds of incense and lights.
It is now at the threshold. In front is the High Priest... a stately old man, dressed in very fine linen, and wearing over his linen dress a short linen tunic and on top of it a kind of chasuble, something multicoloured between a chasuble and a deacon's vestment: purple and gold, violet and white alternate and sparkle like gems in the sun: two real gems are shining more brightly at the top of his shoulders. Perhaps they are buckles with their precious settings. On his breast there is a large metal plate shining with gems and held by a gold chain. Pendants and trimmings gleam on the hem of his short tunic and gold shines above his forehead on his mitre, that reminds me of the mitre worn by Orthodox priests, a mitre shaped as a dome instead of being pointed like the Roman Catholic one.
The solemn personage moves forward, alone, as far as the beginning of the steps, in the golden sunshine that makes him look even more splendid. The others stand waiting under the shady porch, in a circle outside the door. On the left there is a group of girls, all dressed in white, with prophetess Anna and other elderly ladies, obviously teachers.
The High Priest looks at the little Girl and smiles. She must look very tiny at the foot of the flight of steps worthy of an Egyptian temple! He lifts his arms to the sky in prayer. They all bow their heads in perfect humility before the priestly majesty communicating with the Eternal Majesty.
Then, he beckons to Mary. And She departs from Her mother and father, and as if fascinated, climbs the steps. And She smiles. She smiles in the shade of the Temple, where the precious Veil is hanging... She is now at the top of the steps, at the feet of the High Priest, who imposes his hand on Her head. The victim has been accepted. Which purer victim had the Temple ever received?
Then he turns round and holding his hand on Her shoulder as if he were leading the immaculate little Lamb to the altar, he takes Her to the Temple door. Before letting Her in, he asks Her: « Mary of David, are You aware of Your vow?» When She replies « Yes » in Her silvery voice, he cries out: « Go in, then. Walk in my presence and be perfect.»
Mary enters and is swallowed up by the darkness. The group of virgins and teachers, then the Levites hide and isolate Her more and more... She can no longer be seen...
Also the door is now closing on its sweet‑sounding hinges. Through the gap which is becoming narrower and narrower, the procession can be seen advancing towards the Holy of Holies. Now it is only a thread. Now it is no more: it is closed.
The last chord of the harmonious hinges is replied to by a sob from the two old parents and by a joint cry: « Mary! Daughter! » and then two groans, the one invoking the other: « Anne! » « Joachim! » and they finish whispering: « Let us give glory to the Lord Who is receiving Her in His House and is leading Her along His path.»
It all ends thus.
« The High Priest had said: "Walk in my presence and be perfect". The High Priest did not know that he was speaking to the Woman Who is inferior in perfection only to God. But he was speaking in the name of God, and therefore his order was a sacred one. It is always sacred, particularly with regard to the Virgin Full of Wisdom.
Mary had deserved that "Wisdom should precede Her and show Itself to Her first", because "from the beginning of Her day She had watched at Its door, and wishing to be taught, out of love, She wanted to be pure to achieve perfect love and deserve to have Wisdom as Her teacher".
In Her humility She did not know that She possessed Wisdom before being born and that the union with Wisdom was but the continuation of the divine pulsations of Paradise. She could not imagine that. And when God whispered sublime words to Her in the depths of Her heart, in Her humility She considered them thoughts of pride and raising Her innocent heart to God, She besought Him: "Lord, have mercy on Thy Servant!"
Oh! It is true that the True Wise Virgin, the Eternal Virgin, has had only one thought from the dawn of Her day: to raise Her heart to God from the morning of life and to watch for the Lord, praying before the Most High, asking forgiveness for the weaknesses of Her heart, as Her humility convinced Her, and She was not aware that She was anticipating the request for forgiveness for sinners, which She would later make at the foot of the Cross, together with Her dying Son.
"When the great Lord will decide, She will be filled with the Spirit of intelligence" and will then understand Her great mission. For the time being She is only a child, who in the sacred peace of the Temple, establishes and re‑establishes closer and closer connections, affections and memories with Her God.
This is for everybody.
But for you, My little Mary, has your Teacher nothing special to tell you? "Walk in My presence, be therefore perfect". I am slightly modifying the sacred phrase and I am giving it to you as an order. Be perfect in love, perfect in generosity, perfect in suffering.
Look once again at Mother. And consider what so many ignore or wish to ignore, because sorrow is too irksome to their taste and their spirit. Sorrow. Mary suffered from the very first hour of Her life. To be perfect as She was, implied the possession of a perfect sensitivity. Consequently sacrifice was to be more piercing. And thus more meritorious. He who possesses purity possesses love, who possesses love possesses wisdom, who possesses wisdom possesses generosity and heroism, because he knows why he makes a sacrifice.
Raise your spirit, even if the cross bends you, breaks you and kills you. God is with you.»
9. Death of Joachim and Anne.
31st August 1944.
« Like a quick winter twilight when an ice‑cold wind gathers clouds in the sky, the lives of My grandparents had a quick decline, after the Sun of their lives was placed to shine before the Sacred Veil of the Temple.
But it is said:
"Wisdom brings up her own sons,
and cares for those who seek her.
Whoever loves her loves life,
those who wait on her will enjoy peace.
Those who serve her, minister to the Holy One
and the Lord loves those who love her.
If he trusts himself to her he will inherit her
and his descendants will remain in possession of her
because she accompanies him in his trials.
First of all she selects him,
then she brings fear and faintness on him,
ploughing him with her discipline,
until she has tested him in his thoughts
and she can trust him.
In the end she will make him firm,
will lead him back to the straight road
and make him happy.
She will reveal her secrets to him,
She will place in him treasures of science,
and knowledge of justice".
Yes, all this has been said. The books of wisdom may be applied to all men, who will find guidance in them and a light for their behaviour. But happy are those who can be recognised amongst the spiritual lovers of Wisdom.
I surrounded Myself with wise people, in My human kinship. Anne, Joachim, Joseph, Zacharias, and even more Elizabeth, and then the Baptist, are they not real wise people? Not to mention My Mother, the abode of Wisdom.
Wisdom had inspired My grandparents how to live in a way which was agreeable to God, from their youth to their death, and like a tent protecting from the fury of the elements, Wisdom had protected them from the danger of sin. The sacred fear of God is the root of the tree of wisdom, that thrusts its branches far and wide to reach with its top tranquil love in its peace, peaceful love in its security, secure love in its faithfulness, faithful love in its intensity: the total, generous, effective love of saints.
"Who loves her, loves life and will inherit Life" says Ecclesiasticus. This sentence is linked with Mine: "Who loses his life for My sake, will save it". Because we are not referring to the poor life of this world, but to the eternal life, not to the joys of one hour, but to the immortal ones.
Joachim and Anne loved Wisdom thus. And Wisdom was with them in their trials.
How many trials they experienced, whilst you, men, do not want to have to suffer and cry, simply because you think that you are not completely wicked! How many trials these two just people suffered, and they deserved to have Mary as their daughter! Political persecutions had driven them out of the land of David, and made them excessively poor. They had felt sadness in seeing their years fading through without a flower that would say to them: "I shall be your continuation". And afterwards, the anxiety of having a daughter in their old age when they were certain they would never see Her grow into a woman. And then the obligation of tearing Her from their hearts to offer Her on the altar of God. And again: their life became an even more painful silence, now that they were accustomed to the chirping of their little dove, to the noise of Her little steps, to the smiles and kisses of their creature, having to wait for the hour of God, their only company being the memories of the past. And much more... Diseases, calamities of inclement weather, the arrogance of mighty ones of the earth... so many blows of battering rams on the weak castle of their modest possessions. And it is not enough: the pain for their far away creature, who was going to be left lonely and poor and, notwithstanding their cares and sacrifices, would get only the remains of Her father's property. And how will She find such remains, since they will be left uncultivated for many years, awaiting Her return? Fears, trials, temptations. And yet, loyalty to God for ever!
Their strongest temptation: not to deny their declining lives the consolation of their daughter's presence. But children belong first to God and then to their parents. Every son can say what I said to My Mother: "Do you not know that I must be busy with My Father's affairs?" And every father, every mother must learn the attitude to be maintained looking at Mary and Joseph in the Temple, at Anne and Joachim in the house of Nazareth, a house which was becoming more and more forlorn and sad, but where one thing never diminished, but increased continuously: the holiness of two hearts, the holiness of a marriage.
What light is left to Joachim, an invalid, and to his sorrowful wife, in the long and silent nights of two old people who feel they are about to die? Only the little dresses, the first pair of little sandals, the simple toys of their little daughter, now far away, and memories of Her, memories... And peace when they say: "We are suffering, but we have done our duty of love towards God".
And then they were overcome by a supernatural joy shining with a celestial light, a joy unknown to the children of the world, a joy that does not fade away when heavy eyelashes close on two dying eyes: on the contrary, it shines brighter in the last hour, illuminating the truth that had been hidden within them throughout their lives. Like a butterfly in its cocoon, the truth in them gave faint indications of its presence, just soft flashes, whereas now it opens its wings to the sun and shows its beautiful decorations. And their lives passed away in the certainty of a happy future for themselves and their descendants, their trembling lips murmuring words of praise to God.
Such was the death of my grandparents. Such as their holy lives deserved. Because of their holiness, they deserved to be the first guardians of the Virgin Beloved by God, and only when a greater Sun showed itself at the end of their days, they realized the grace God had granted them.
Because of their holiness, Anne suffered no pain in giving birth to her child: it was the ecstasy of the bearer of the Faultless One. Neither of them suffered the throes of death, but only a weakness that fades away, as a star softly disappears when the sun rises at dawn. And if they did not have the consolation of having Me present, as Wisdom Incarnate, as Joseph had, I was invisibly present, whispering sublime words, bending over their pillows, to send them to sleep, awaiting their triumph.
Someone may ask: "Why did they not have to suffer when generating and dying, since they were children of Adam?" My answer is: "If the Baptist, who was a son of Adam, and had been conceived with the original sin, was presanctified by Me in his mother's womb, simply because I approached her, was no grace to be granted to the mother of the Holy and Faultless One, Who had been preserved by God and bore God in Her almost divine spirit, in Her most pure heart, and was never separated from Him, since She was created by the Father and was conceived in a womb, and then received into Heaven to possess God in glory for ever and ever?" I also answer: "An upright conscience gives a peaceful death and the prayers of saints will obtain such a death for you".
Joachim and Anne had a whole life of upright conscience behind them and such a life rose like a beautiful landscape and led them to Heaven, while their Holy Daughter was praying before the Tabernacle of God for Her parents far away, whom She had postponed to God, Summurn Bonum, and yet She loved them, as the law and Her feeling commanded, with a perfect supernatural love.»
10. Mary's Canticle Imploring the Coming of the Christ.
2nd September 1944.
Only yesterday evening, Friday, I began to see. I saw nothing but a very young Mary, twelve years old at most, Her face no longer roundish, as is typical of children, but already showing the future outlines of a woman in a perfect oval. Also Her hair is no longer falling loose on Her neck in soft curls, but it is plaited and two thick braids fall over Her shoulders down to Her waist. Her hair is a very pale gold colour, so light that it seems to be blended with silver. Her face is more pensive and mature, although it is the face of a young girl, a beautiful and pure girl, all dressed in white. She is sewing in a very small room, which is also completely white, and through the wide open window one can see the imposing central part of the Temple, the flights of steps of the yards and porches. Beyond the enclosure wall also the town can be seen with its streets, houses, gardens, and in the background the humped green top of the Mount of Olives.
Mary is sewing and singing in a low voice. I do not know whether it is a sacred song or not. It says:
« Like a star in clear water
a light is shining within My heart.
It has been with Me since My childhood
and it guides Me tenderly with love.
In the depths of My heart there is a song.
Where does it come from?
Man, you do not know.
It comes from where the Holy One rests.
I look at My clear star
And I do not want anything,
Not even the sweetest and dearest thing,
Except this sweet light that is all Mine.
You brought Me down from the Heavens above,
O star of Mine, into the womb of a mother,
Now You live in Me, but beyond the veil
I see Your glorious face, Father.
When will You grant Your servant the honour
Of being the humble maid of the Saviour?
Send us the Messiah from Heaven,
Accept, Holy Father, the offer of Mary.»
Mary is now quiet. She smiles and sighs, then She kneels down in prayer. Her little face is shining brightly. She is looking upwards, towards the clear blue summer sky and Her face seems to be absorbing and then radiating all the brightness in the air. Or rather, it looks as if from within Her a hidden sun is radiating its rays and lighting up Her face, colouring Her snow‑white flesh with a light rosy hue. And the light from Her face spreads out towards the world and the sun shining on the world: a blessing and a promise of much good.
While Mary is getting up after Her prayer, with ecstatic brightness still on Her face, old Anna of Phanuel enters the room. She stands still, amazed or at least wondering at Mary's attitude and appearance.
Then she calls Her: « Mary! » and the Girl turns round with a smile, a different one but still so beautiful and says: « Peace to you, Anna.»
« Were You praying? Are Your prayers never enough for You? »
« My prayers would be enough. But I speak to God. Anna, you cannot imagine how close I feel Him. More than close, within My heart. May God forgive Me My pride. But I do not feel lonely. See? Over there, in that House of gold and snow, behind the double Curtain, there is the Holy of Holies. Nobody is ever allowed to look at the Propitiatory, on which the glory of the Lord rests, except the High Priest. But My worshipping soul does not need to look at the embroidered Curtain, which quivers at the songs of the virgins and Levites and is scented with precious incense, as if I wanted to pierce its fabric and see the Testimony shine through it. I do look at it! Do not think that I do not look at it with worshipping eyes like every son of Israel. Do not think that pride blinds Me making Me think what I will now tell you. I look at it and there is no humble servant amongst the people of God that looks more humbly at the House of the Lord than I do, because I am convinced that I am the least of all. But what do I see? A veil. What do I think there is behind the Veil? A Tabernacle. What is in it? If I listen to My heart, I see God shining in His loving glory and He says to Me: "I love You" and I reply to Him: "I love You" and I die and I am recreated at each beat of My heart in this reciprocal kiss... I am amongst you, My dear teachers and companions. But a circle of fire isolates Me from you. Within the circle, God and Myself. And I see you through the Fire of God and so I love you... but I cannot love you according to the flesh, neither shall I ever be able to love anyone according to the flesh. I can only love Him Who loves Me, according to the spirit. This is My destiny. The secular Law of Israel wants every girl to be a wife, and every wife to be a mother. But, while obeying the Law, I must obey the Voice that whispers to Me: "I want You"; I am a virgin and a virgin I shall remain, How shall I succeed? This sweet invisible Presence that is with Me will help Me, because it is Its desire. I am not afraid. I have no longer My father and mother... and only God knows how My love for whatever human being belonged to Me was burnt in that pain. Now I have but God. I therefore obey Him unquestioningly... I would have done so also regardless of My father and mother, because I have been taught by the Voice that whoever wishes to follow It, must go beyond father and mother. Parents are loving patrols watching the hearts of their children, whom they wish to lead to happiness according to their plans... and they are not aware of other plans leading to infinite happiness... I would have left them My dresses and mantles, to follow the Voice that says to Me: "Come, My beloved Spouse". I would have left them everything, and the pearls of My tears, for I would have cried having to disobey them, and the instincts of My blood, because I would have defied even death to follow the Voice calling Me, would have told them that there is something greater and sweeter than the love of a father and mother and that is the Voice of God. But now, by His will, I am free from this tie of filial love. Nay, it would not have been a tie. My parents were two just people and God certainly spoke to them as He speaks to Me. They would have followed justice and truth. When I think of them, I imagine them in the quiet expectation among the Patriarchs and I hasten with My sacrifice the coming of the Messiah to open for them the gates of Heaven. I am My own guide on earth, or rather God guides His poor servant giving Her His commands and I fulfil them because it is a joy for Me to obey. When the time comes, I will reveal My secret to the spouse... and he will accept it.»
« But, Mary.... which words will You find to persuade him? You will have the love of a man, the Law and life against you.»
« I shall have God with Me... God will enlighten the heart of the spouse... life will lose the incentives of the senses and become a pure flower with the fragrance of charity. The Law... Anna, don't call Me a blasphemer. I think the Law is about to be changed. By whom, do you think, if it is divine? By the Only One Who can change it. By God. The time is nearer than you think, I tell you. Because when I was reading Daniel, a great light came to Me from the depths of My heart and I understood the meaning of the enigmatic word. The seventy weeks will be shortened because of the prayers of just people. Does this mean that the number of the years is being changed? No. A prophecy is never wrong. But the measure of the prophetic time is the course of the moon, not of the sun. Therefore I say: "Near is the hour when the Baby born of a Virgin will be heard crying". Oh! Since this Light that loves Me tells Me so many things, I wish it would tell Me where the happy mother is, that will give birth to the Son of God and Messiah of His people! Barefooted I would travel all over the world, neither cold nor frost, neither dust nor heat, nor wild beast nor hunger would prevent Me from reaching Her and I would say to Her: "Grant Your servant and the servant of the servants of Christ to live under Your roof. I will turn Your millstone and Your press, use Me as a slave to work Your millstone and to watch Your herds, make Me wash the napkins of Your Child... I will work in Your kitchen, at Your oven, wherever You wish.... but receive Me. That I may see Him! And hear His voice! And receive His glance!" And if She did not want Me, I would live at Her doorstep like a beggar, in cold and hot weather, just to hear the voice of the Child Messiah and the echo of His laughter, and see Him passing by... And perhaps one day He would offer Me a piece of bread... Oh! If I were dying with hunger and I were fainting because of extensive fasting, I would not eat that bread. I would hold it close to My heart like a bag of precious pearls and I would kiss it to scent the perfume of Christ's hand and I would never be hungry or cold, because its touch would give Me ecstasy and heat, ecstasy and food ... »
« You ought to be the Mother of the Christ, since You love Him so much! Is that why You wish to remain a virgin? »
« Oh! No. I am misery and dust. I dare not lift My eyes towards the Glory. That is why, rather than the double Veil, beyond which I know dwells the invisible Presence of Jehovah, I love looking into My heart. Over there, there is the terrible God of Sinai. Here, within Me, I see our Father, a loving Face that smiles and blesses Me, because I am small like a little bird, that the wind sustains without feeling its weight and I am weak like the stem of a lily of the valley, that can only bloom and smell sweetly and can present no other force to the wind but its scented and pure sweetness. God, My loving wind! Not because of that. But because the Son of God and of a Virgin, the Holy of the Most Holy One, can but like what in Heaven He chose as his Mother and what on the earth speaks to Him of His Heavenly Father: Purity. If the Law pondered that, if the rabbis, who have complicated the Law with all the quibbles of their teaching, turned their minds to higher horizons and aimed at supernatural things, deserting the human and lucrative affairs which cause them to forget the supreme End, they should, above all, make Purity the main subject of their teaching, so that the King of Israel may find it when He comes. With the olive branches of the Peaceful One,. with the Palms of the Triumpher, spread lilies, lilies, lilies... How much Blood the Saviour will have to shed to redeem us! How much indeed! From the thousands of wounds that Isaiah saw on the Man of Sorrows, a stream of Blood is falling, like dew from a porous vase. May this divine Blood not fall where there is desecration and blasphemy, but into chalices of fragrant purity that may receive it and gather it for the purpose of spreading it amongst the diseased and leprous souls and amongst those who are dead to God. Give lilies to wipe with their pure petals the sweat and the tears of Christ! Give lilies for His keen desire of Martyrdom! Oh! Where will that Lily be, that will bear You? Where is the Lily that will quench Your parching thirst, that will become red with Your Blood, will die for the pain of seeing You dying, and will cry over Your bloodless Body? Oh! Christ! Christ! My desire! ...»
Mary is now silent, weeping and overwhelmed.
Anna is also silent for a little while and then with her clear voice of a deeply moved old woman, she asks: « Have You anything else to teach me, Mary? »
Mary rouses. She must think, in Her humility, that Her teacher is reproaching Her and She exclaims: « Oh! Forgive Me! You are My teacher. I am nothing. But this voice comes from My heart. I watch over it, to avoid speaking. But like a river that under the fury of water breaks its embankment, it has now overcome Me and overflowed. Please pay no attention to My words and chastise My presumption. Words of mystery should remain in the depths of one's heart, which God helps in His goodness. I know. But this Invisible Presence is so sweet that I am filled with joy... Anna, please forgive your little servant! »
Anna embraces Her while tears shine on her old wrinkled trembling face. The tears run along her wrinkles, like water along an uneven ground that becomes a trembling swamp. But the old teacher does not provoke laughter, on the contrary her crying excites the deepest respect.
Mary is clasped in her arms, Her little face against Her teacher's breast. And it all finishes thus.
« Mary remembered God. She dreamt of God. She thought She dreamt. She was only seeing again what She had seen in the splendour of God's Heaven, in the instant She was created to be united to the body conceived on the earth. She shared with God one of God's properties, although in a lesser degree, as was fitting. That is the property of remembering, seeing and foreseeing, which is an attribute of the mighty and perfect intelligence not impaired by Fault.
Man was created in the image and likeness of God. One of the likenesses is the capability, for the soul, of remembering, seeing and foreseeing. This explains the faculty for reading into the future. This faculty sometimes comes directly, by God's will, sometimes it is a power of recollection, that rises like the sun in the morning, illuminating a point on the horizon of centuries, already seen in the vision of God.
Such mysteries are too deep to be fully understood by you. But consider.
Can the Supreme Intelligence, the Mind that knows everything, the Sight that sees everything, give you something different from Himself, having created you by an act of His will and a breath of His infinite love, and having made you His children both by your origin and your destination? He gives you it in an infinitesimal part, as the creature cannot contain the Creator. But that part is perfect and complete, although infinitesimal.
What treasure of intelligence God gave man, Adam! The Fall impaired it, but My sacrifice reinstates it and opens the splendour of Intelligence, its wealth, its science for you. How sublime is the human mind united to God by His grace, sharing with God the faculty of knowledge!... The human mind united to God by Grace.
There is no other way. Those who inquisitively seek ultrahuman secrets should remember that. All knowledge that does not come from a soul in grace ‑and is not in grace who is against God's Law, which is very clear in its commandments‑ such knowledge comes from Satan. It seldom corresponds to the truth when human matters are concerned, it never corresponds to the truth with regard to superhuman matters. The Demon is in fact the father of falsehood and can but lead on to the path of falsehood. There is no other method of knowing the truth, except the one that comes from God, Who speaks and says or reminds, as a father reminds his son of his paternal house and says to him: "Don't you remember when you used to do this with Me, you saw that, you heard something else? Don't you remember when I used to kiss you goodbye? Do you remember when you saw Me for the first time and you admired the bright light on My face shining on your virginal soul, which, having been just created by Me was still pure and free from the evil that later impaired you? Do you remember when you understood for the first time, in a throb of love, what Love is? Which is the mystery of our Being and Proceeding?" And what the limited capability of a man in grace cannot reach, the Spirit of science clarifies and teaches.
But to possess the Spirit, Grace is needed. To possess Truth and Science, Grace is required. To possess the Father, Grace is necessary. Grace is a tent in which the three Persons dwell, it is a Propitiatory on which the Eternal Father rests and speaks, not from within a cloud, but revealing His face to His faithful children. Saints and just people remember God. They remember the words they heard in the Creating Mind and which the Supreme Goodness revives in their hearts to raise them like eagles to the contemplation of the Truth and to the knowledge of Time.
Mary was full of Grace. The whole One and Trine Grace was in Her. The whole One and Trine Grace prepared Her like a Bride for the Wedding, like a Nuptial Bed for the Offspring, like a Divine Person for Her Maternity and mission. She closes the cycle of the Prophetesses of the Old Testament and opens the period of the "spokesmen of God" of the New Testament.
True Ark of the Word of God, looking into Her immaculate heart, She discovered the words of eternal knowledge, which the finger of God had written there, and She remembered, as all saints do, that She had already heard them when Her immortal soul was being created by God Father, the Creator of all living beings... And if She did not remember everything of Her future mission, the reason is that God leaves some gaps in every human perfection, according to a Law of divine prudence, out of goodness and as a reward to creatures.
Mary, the second Eve, had to achieve Her part of merit in being the Mother of Christ, with a faithful good will, that God exacted also from His Christ to make Him a Redeemer.
The spirit of Mary was in Heaven. Her morale and Her body were on the earth and they had to tread on the earth and on the flesh to reach the spirit and join it to the Spirit in a fruitful embrace.»
A note of mine. All day yesterday I thought I was going to see the news of the death of Her parents being given to Mary by Zacharias, I do not know why. I also thought, in my way, that Jesus would have dealt with the point «remembrance of God by the saints ». This morning, when the vision started, I said to myself: « Here we are, they will now tell Her that She is an orphan » and my heart was already trembling because I would have experienced my own sadness of these past days. Instead there has been absolutely nothing of what I thought I was going to see or hear. Not even one word by mistake. I am very happy about this because it confirms that there is nothing of my own in this work, not even an honest suggestion with regard to one situation. It all comes from a different source. My continuous fear ceases... until the next time because I shall always be afraid of being deceived and deceiving.