Jesus first appears to His Mother, Mary.
Excerpted from POEM OF THE MAN-GOD, Volume 5, pages 701-704.
Mary is prostrated with Her face on the floor. She looks like a poor wretch. She looks like that withered flower of which She has spoken.
The closed window is opened with a violent banging of the heavy shutters, and with the first ray of the sun, Jesus enters.
Mary, Who has been shaken by the noise and has raised Her head to see which wind has opened the shutters, sees Her radiant Son: handsome, infinitely more handsome than He was before suffering, smiling, lively, brighter than the sun, dressed in a white garment that seems woven light, and Who is advancing towards Her.
She straightens Herself up on Her knees and crossing Her hands on Her breast, she says with a sob that is joy and grief: "Lord, My God." And She ramains thus, enraptured in contemplating Him, with Her face all washed by tears, but made serene, pacified by His smile and by the ecstasy.
But He does not want to see His Mother on Her knees, like a servant. And He calls Her, stretching out His hands, from the wounds of which emanate rays that make His glorious Flesh even brighter: "Mother!" But it is not the sorrowful word of the conversations and the farewells before His Passion, or the heart-rending lament of the meeting on Calvary and of the agony. It is a cry of triumph, of joy, of freedom, of rejoicing, of love, of gratitude. And He bends over His Mother, Who dare not touch Him, and He places His hands under Her bent elbows, and He lifts Her up, He presses her to His Heart and kisses Her.
Oh! Mary realises then that it is not a vision, that it is Her Son Who has really risen, that it is Her Jesus, the Son Who still loves Her as a Son. And with a cry, She flings Her arms round His neck, and She embraces and kisses Him, laughing in Her weeping. She kisses His Forehead, where there are no longer any wounds, His Head no longer unkempt and bloody, His shining Eyes, His healed Cheeks, His Mouth no longer swollen. She then takes His Hands and kisses their backs and palms, their radiant wounds, and She suddenly bends down to His Feet and uncovers them from under His bright garment and kisses them. Then She stands up, looks at Him, but dare not.
But He smiles and understands. He uncovers His chest a little and says: "And this one, Mother, are You not kissing it, this one that grieved You so much and that You alone are worthy to kiss? Kiss My Heart, Mother. Your kiss will cancel the last remembrance of what is sorrowful and will give Me that joy, which My Joy of having risen from the dead still lacks." And He takes the face of His Mother in His Hands and He lays Her lips on the lips of the wound of His Chest, from which streams of a very bright light are flowing.
Mary's face is haloed by that light, flooded as it is with its beams. She kisses and kisses, while Jesus caresses Her. She never tires kissing. She looks like a thirsty woman whose mouth is attached to a fountain and who drinks from it the life that was escaping her.
Jesus speaks now.
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"It is all over, Mother. You no longer have to weep over Your Son. The trial is over. Redemption has taken place.
Mother, thanks for conceiving Me, for bringing Me up, for helping Me in life and in death.
I heard Your prayers come to Me. They have been My strength in My grief, My companions in My journey on the Earth and beyond the Earth. They came with Me on the Cross and to Limbo. They were the incense that preceded the Pontiff, Who was going to call His servants and take them to the temple that does not die: to My Heaven. They have come with Me to Paradise, preceding, like an angelical voice, the procession of the redeemed led by the Redeemer, so that the angels should be ready to greet the Conqueror, Who was returning to His Kingdom. They have been seen and heard by the Father and the Spirit, Who smiled at them, as if they were the most beautiful flower and the sweetest song born in Paradise. They have been recognised by the Patriarchs and by the new Saints. by the new, first, citizens of My Jerusalem, and I bring You their thanks, Mother, together with the kisses of their relatives, with their blessings and with that of Joseph, the spouse of Your soul.
The whole of Heaven sings it hosanna to You, Mother, Holy Mother! A hosanna that does not die, that is not a false one like the one given to Me a few days ago.
I will now go to the Father in My human appearance. Paradise must see the Conqueror in His appearance of Man, by means of which He defeated the Sin of Man. But I will come again. I must confirm in the Faith those who do not yet believe and are in need to believe to lead the others to believe, I must fortify the pusillanimous ones who will need so much strength to resist the world.
Then I will ascend to Heaven. But I will not leave You alone. Mother, can You see that veil? In My annihilation, I still exhaled the power of miracle on Your behalf, to give You that comfort. But for You I will work another miracle. You will have Me, in the Sacrament, as real as when You carried Me.
You will never be alone. But these past days You have been alone. But also that sorrow of Yours was required for My Redemption. Much is continously to be added to Redemption, because much will be continously created in the way of Sin. I will call all My servants to this redeeming participation. You are the one who by Yourself will do more than all the others together. But also this long abandonment was required.
Now no longer so. I am no longer separated from the Father. You will no longer be separated from Your Son. And, by having Your Son, You have our Trinity. A living Heaven, You will bring the Trinity to men on the Earth, and You will sanctify the Church, Queen of the Priesthood and Mother of the Christians.
Then I will come to get You. And no longer shall I be in You, but You will be in Me, in My Kingdom, to make Paradise more beautiful.
I am going now, Mother, I am going to make the other Mary happy. Then I will ascend to the Father. Thence I will come to those who do not believe. Mother, Your kiss as a blessing. And My Peace to You as a companion. Goodbye."
And Jesus disappears in the sunshine that streams down from the clear early morning sky.
The Risen Christ Appears to His Mother Mary Guercino
Written by Maria Valtorta, February 21, 1944.
Copyright 1990 by Centro Editoriale Valtortiano, srl, Isola del Liri, Italy. All rights reserved in all countries.
© 2010 Valtorta Publishing. All rights reserved.