she wasâ
And a little child shall lead them,
he thought. She now looked clearly feverish, ill, someone who should be in bed. She clasped her hands in an attitude of prayer and said in a thin plain-speaking voice, Our Lady asks me to share Her message, and still she hadnât removed her hood, her face lay hidden in its shadow. Dear children, she said, put your faith in Mother Mary and answer her call to Christian service which means to serve Our Lord Our Jesus through acts of loving-kindness. Pray for the sinners that they might be made whole again and freed from their selfishness and greed before Jesus in anger visits destruction on us. Carry Our Ladyâs message of hope to the ends of the earth with your whole soul and for sure you will bring an end to poverty. Build a church at this very place which will be like a beacon to unbelievers and bring them into the presence of God your Father your Protector. Give your hearts to the Precious Son and take refuge within His wounds and He shall protect you always. I am as your own Mother and gather you here as a Mother might to keep you safe from the hand of evil and to deliver your petitions to the Lord Himself, in Jesusâ name, amen.
As for the grieving mother who has petitioned Me on this day, Lee Ann went peacefully to the embrace of Our Lord after wandering alone in this very forest and didnât suffer but was cold toward the end, was hungry and finally reached exhaustion, at dusk she curled beneath a tree where she slept deeply to fend off the cold and in sleep rose to the kingdom of heaven on the wings of loving angels.
My children, said Ann. Jesus is merciful and will keep all believers safe from the Evil One. Rest assured your petitions shall be heard in the name of Jesus and of Our Lord God I take leave of you now, amen.
        Â
To me itâs like she freaks out and everyone goes for it, said Carolyn to the priest when they were walking back toward the campground afterward, the crowd dispersed in the gloom of the woods, reduced to small excited groups speaking rabidly of what theyâd seen and to lone spellbound sojourners silenced by the spectacle theyâd witnessed. Perhaps, said the priest, thatâs the nature of revelation. How could it happen otherwise? How else to define belief?
I donât think so, said Carolyn. That kind of thing is circular. The Virgin Mary is either there or not there. It doesnât work some other way.
And in your opinion?
Two thumbs down.
You doubt with enormous certainty.
No Iâm certain without any doubt.
I wish I could do that, said the priest.
For a while he gravely accompanied the widow, arm in arm, guiding her, taking comfort from her scent of decay, of garlic, dried flowers and old Mason jars, from the way it shrunk his earthly needs and humbled the demon in his groin, until the visionary appeared out of nowhere at his shoulder and walked beside him in unnerving silence.
Excuse me, the priest implored the widow. A moment privately if you donât mind.
Iâm perfectly fine on my own, you know. I merely go a bit slower.
Youâll need help at the creek crossing, though.
I suppose so. Itâs very sad.
Then the priest walked alone with the visionary, whose face was still luminous with tears. He could not stand the loveliness of that and bit his lip about it. He sauntered along with his hands behind his back like a monsignor in the movies, like a cleric in a multibuttoned frock. He felt he needed a magenta-hued sunset and more somber, oval glasses. The visionary smelled of mossy humus and had pulled back her sweatshirt hood so that he caught a hint of wood smoke mingling with the rankness of her clothes. She was more enticing than before. She had not lost any of her luster to excess, as can sometimes be the case. It was her purity that moved him, he thought. Her essential, if sickly, purity. The church, she said, pausing among ferns. When do you think
And a little child shall lead them,
he thought. She now looked clearly feverish, ill, someone who should be in bed. She clasped her hands in an attitude of prayer and said in a thin plain-speaking voice, Our Lady asks me to share Her message, and still she hadnât removed her hood, her face lay hidden in its shadow. Dear children, she said, put your faith in Mother Mary and answer her call to Christian service which means to serve Our Lord Our Jesus through acts of loving-kindness. Pray for the sinners that they might be made whole again and freed from their selfishness and greed before Jesus in anger visits destruction on us. Carry Our Ladyâs message of hope to the ends of the earth with your whole soul and for sure you will bring an end to poverty. Build a church at this very place which will be like a beacon to unbelievers and bring them into the presence of God your Father your Protector. Give your hearts to the Precious Son and take refuge within His wounds and He shall protect you always. I am as your own Mother and gather you here as a Mother might to keep you safe from the hand of evil and to deliver your petitions to the Lord Himself, in Jesusâ name, amen.
As for the grieving mother who has petitioned Me on this day, Lee Ann went peacefully to the embrace of Our Lord after wandering alone in this very forest and didnât suffer but was cold toward the end, was hungry and finally reached exhaustion, at dusk she curled beneath a tree where she slept deeply to fend off the cold and in sleep rose to the kingdom of heaven on the wings of loving angels.
My children, said Ann. Jesus is merciful and will keep all believers safe from the Evil One. Rest assured your petitions shall be heard in the name of Jesus and of Our Lord God I take leave of you now, amen.
        Â
To me itâs like she freaks out and everyone goes for it, said Carolyn to the priest when they were walking back toward the campground afterward, the crowd dispersed in the gloom of the woods, reduced to small excited groups speaking rabidly of what theyâd seen and to lone spellbound sojourners silenced by the spectacle theyâd witnessed. Perhaps, said the priest, thatâs the nature of revelation. How could it happen otherwise? How else to define belief?
I donât think so, said Carolyn. That kind of thing is circular. The Virgin Mary is either there or not there. It doesnât work some other way.
And in your opinion?
Two thumbs down.
You doubt with enormous certainty.
No Iâm certain without any doubt.
I wish I could do that, said the priest.
For a while he gravely accompanied the widow, arm in arm, guiding her, taking comfort from her scent of decay, of garlic, dried flowers and old Mason jars, from the way it shrunk his earthly needs and humbled the demon in his groin, until the visionary appeared out of nowhere at his shoulder and walked beside him in unnerving silence.
Excuse me, the priest implored the widow. A moment privately if you donât mind.
Iâm perfectly fine on my own, you know. I merely go a bit slower.
Youâll need help at the creek crossing, though.
I suppose so. Itâs very sad.
Then the priest walked alone with the visionary, whose face was still luminous with tears. He could not stand the loveliness of that and bit his lip about it. He sauntered along with his hands behind his back like a monsignor in the movies, like a cleric in a multibuttoned frock. He felt he needed a magenta-hued sunset and more somber, oval glasses. The visionary smelled of mossy humus and had pulled back her sweatshirt hood so that he caught a hint of wood smoke mingling with the rankness of her clothes. She was more enticing than before. She had not lost any of her luster to excess, as can sometimes be the case. It was her purity that moved him, he thought. Her essential, if sickly, purity. The church, she said, pausing among ferns. When do you think
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