Chapter 19. Mary and Joseph Set Out for Jerusalem.
27th March 1944.
I
see their departure to go to St. Elizabeth's.
Joseph
has come with two little donkeys to fetch Mary: one for himself, the
other for Mary: one of the little animals has the usual saddle with a
strange gadget attached to it. Later I gather that it is a kind of a
luggage-rack on which Joseph fastens a small wooden casket, a small
trunk we would call it nowadays, which he brought for Mary's clothes,
to prevent them from getting wet.
I
hear Mary thank Joseph wholeheartedly for the provident gift, in
which She packs what She takes out of a parcel She had made up
previously. They close the door of the house and start off. It is
daybreak, for I can see the rosy dawn in the east. Nazareth is still
asleep. The two early travellers meet only a shepherd who is driving
forward his little sheep, which are trotting along, one against the
other, jammed in close flock. They are all bleating. The little lambs
with their shrill sharp voices bleat more than the others, and want
their mothers' breasts even while moving. But the mothers are
hurrying towards the pastures and with their louder bleatings they
urge the little ones to follow them.
Mary
looks and smiles and since She has stopped to let the herd go by, She
bends on the saddle and caresses the mild little beasts that pass
near Her donkey. When the shepherd arrives carrying a newly-born
little lamb in his arms and he stops to speak to Mary, She smiles and
caresses the pinkish little face of the lamb, that is bleating
desperately and She exclaims: « It's looking for its mother. Here is
your mother. She won't leave you, of course she won't, little lamb. »
In fact the ewe rubs herself against the shepherd, then stands up on
her hind legs and licks the face of her little one.
The
herd passes by making the noise of water drops falling on leaves.
Behind it there is the dust raised by the trotting feet of the sheep
and the patterns of their footprints on the dusty road.
Joseph
and Mary take to the road again. Joseph is wearing his large mantle,
Mary has on a kind of a striped shawl, because it is a very cool
morning.
They
are now in the country and they are proceeding one beside the other.
They seldom speak. Joseph is thinking of his business, Mary is
following Her own thoughts and in Her concentration She smiles at
them. At times She looks around and smiles at the things She sees.
Now and again She looks at Joseph and then an expression of sad
gravity darkens Her face; then She smiles again, still looking at Her
provident spouse who speaks so little and when he does speak it is
only to ask Her whether She is comfortable and whether She needs
anything. By now there are many people on the road, particularly near
and inside villages. But Mary and Joseph do not pay much attention to
the people they meet. They proceed on their trotting donkeys, in the
midst of the noise of the harness bells, and they stop only once in
the shade of a thicket, to eat some bread and olives and to drink at
a well that runs down from a grotto. They stop later to take shelter
from a sudden heavy downpour from a very dark cloud.
They
have taken cover under the mountain, against a protruding rock that
protects them from most of the heavy rain. Joseph wants Mary to put
on his big mantle, which is proof against water and he insists so
much that Mary is obliged to yield to the insistence of Her spouse,
who to reassure Her of his own immunity, covers his head and
shoulders with a small grey blanket which was on the saddle. Probably
the donkey's blanket. Now Mary looks like a little monk, with Her
face framed by the hood and the mantle closed round Her neck and
covering all Her body.
The
shower slackens and turns into a tedious drizzling rain. Mary and
Joseph start off again along a muddy road. But it is springtime and
after a short while the sun makes the journey more comfortable. Also
the two little donkeys are now trotting more happily along the road.
I
do not see anything else because the vision ends here.
Chapter 20. From Jerusalem to Zacharias' House.
28th March 1944.
We
are in Jerusalem. I know the town very well now, with its streets and
gates.
The
first thing Mary and Joseph do is to go to the Temple. I recognise
the stable where Joseph left his donkey on the day of Jesus'
presentation in the Temple. Also now he leaves the two donkeys there,
after feeding them, and then he goes with Mary to worship the Lord.
When
they come out, they enter a house which apparently belongs to people
they know. They take some refreshment there and Mary rests until
Joseph comes back with a little old man. « This man is going Your
way. You will not have to travel a long way by Yourself to get to
Your relatives. You can trust him because I know him.»
They
get on their donkeys again and Joseph goes with Mary as far as the
Gate (it is not the one they entered but a different one) and they
part there. Mary proceeds with the little old man who is as talkative
as Joseph was silent and takes an interest in many things. Mary
answers him patiently. In front of the saddle She has now the little
trunk which Joseph's donkey had carried earlier and She is no longer
wearing the large mantle. Neither has She on the shawl, which is
folded on the trunk, and She is really beautiful in Her dark blue
dress and white veil that protects Her from the sun. How beautiful
She is!
The
old man must be somewhat deaf, because Mary, Who is wont to speak in
a very low voice, had to speak loudly to make Herself heard. And now
he is tired. He has finished with all his questions and news and is
dozing on the saddle, led by the donkey that is familiar with the
road.
Mary
takes advantage of this respite to collect Her thoughts and to pray.
It must be a prayer that She sings in a low voice, looking at the
blue sky, with Her arms crossed over Her breast, while Her face is
bright and happy because of some internal emotion.
I
see nothing else.
And
even now that the vision is interrupted, as it happened yesterday, I
am left with Mother near me, visible to my internal sight so clearly
that I can describe for you the light rosy hue of Her cheeks, not
very chubby but gently soft, the bright red of Her little lips and
Her clear blue eyes sweetly shining between Her dark-blond eyelashes.
I
can tell you how Her hair, divided into two on the crown of Her head,
falls softly with three undulations on each side, as far down as to
cover half of Her little rosy ears, and then disappears with its pale
shiny gold behind the veil covering Her head (because I see Her with
Her mantle over Her head, wearing a dress of paradisiac silk and a
dark mantle, as thin as a veil, of the same cloth as the dress).
I
can tell you that Her dress is tight round Her neck by means of a
sheathing inside which runs a cord the ends of which form a knot in
front at the base of Her neck. Likewise Her dress is gathered at Her
waist by a thicker cord, also of white silk, hanging down Her side
with two tassels.
I
can even tell you that Her dress, tight as it is at Her neck and
waist, forms seven round soft folds on Her breast, the only ornament
of Her very modest garment.
I
can inform you of the chastity emanating from all Her aspect, from
Her so delicate and harmonious forms which make Her such an angelical
woman. And the more I look at Her the more I suffer thinking of how
much they made Her suffer and I wonder how they could have had no
mercy on Her, so meek and kind, so delicate also in Her physical
appearance. I look at Her and I can hear once again all the shouting
on Calvary, also against Her, all the mockery and insults, all the
maledictions shouted against Her because She was the Mother of the
Convict. Now I see Her beautiful and tranquil. But Her present
countenance does not cancel the memory of Her tragical face during
those hours of agony, or that of Her desolate face in the house in
Jerusalem, after Jesus' death. And I would like to be able to caress
and kiss Her cheek, so delicately rosy and soft, to remove with my
kiss that remembrance of grievous tears, as She certainly remembers
as I do.
You
cannot believe how much peace it gives me to have Her near me. I
think that to die seeing Her must be as sweet and even sweeter than
the sweetest hour of one's lifetime. During the time that I did not
see Her thus, all for myself, Her absence was a great sorrow to me,
just like the absence of a mother. I now feel once again the
ineffable joy which was my companion in December and early January.
And I am happy, notwithstanding that the sight of the torture of the
Passion casts a veil of grief on all my happiness.
It
is difficult to explain and make you understand what I feel and what
has been happening since February the eleventh, when in the evening I
saw Jesus suffer in His Passion. That sight has changed me
completely. Whether I die now or in one hundred years' time, that
vision will always be the same in intensity and consequences.
Previously I used to think of the sorrows of Christ, now I live them,
because one word, or a glance at an image is enough to make me suffer
all over again what I suffered that evening and be horrified at those
tortures; and I grieve over His desolate sufferings, and even if
nothing reminds me of them, their remembrance tears my heart.
Mary
is beginning to speak and I become silent.
------------------
Mary says:
Mary says:
«
I will not speak much, because You are very tired, My poor daughter.
I only wish to draw your attention and the attention of readers to
the constant habit of Joseph and Mine of giving priority to prayer.
Tiredness, haste, worries, occupations never hindered our prayer, on
the contrary they helped it. It was always the queen of our
occupations, our relief, our light, our hope. If in sad moments it
was a consolation, in happy ones it was a song. But it was always the
constant friend of our souls. It detached us from the earth, from our
exile, and it raised us up towards Heaven, our Fatherland.
Not
only I, Who by now had God with Me and I had but to look at My bosom
to worship the Holy of Holies, but also Joseph felt united to God
when he prayed, because our prayers were a true adoration of our
whole beings, which melted with God by worshipping Him and by being
embraced by Him.
And
please note that not even I, although I had the Eternal God in Me,
not even I felt exempted from respectful homage to the Temple. The
deepest holiness does not exempt anyone from feeling a mere nothing
with regard to God and from converting such nothingness into an
endless hosanna to God's glory, since He allows us to do so.
Are
you weak, poor, faulty? Invoke the holiness of the Lord: “Holy,
Holy, Holy!” Invoke the Blessed Holy One to assist you in your
misery. He will come and instil His holiness into you. Are you holy
and rich in merits in the eyes of God? Invoke the holiness of the
Lord just the same. It is infinite and will increase yours. The
angels, who are superior to the weaknesses of mankind, do not cease
singing their “Sanctus” not even for an instant, and their
supernatural beauty increases with each invocation of the holiness of
our God. Imitate the angels.
Never
divest yourselves of the protection of prayer, which blunts the
weapons of Satan, the malice of the world, the incentives of the
flesh and mental pride. Never lay down this weapon, which causes
Heaven to open and pour out Its graces and blessings.
The
world needs a shower of prayers to be purified from the sins that
draw punishments from God. And since only few people pray, those few
must pray as if they were many. They must multiply their living
prayers to make up the necessary amount to obtain graces. Prayers are
living when they are flavoured with true love and sacrifice.
My
dear daughter, it is a good thing, pleasing to God and meritorious,
that you should suffer because of the sufferings of My Jesus and
Mine, in addition to your own. Your sympathetic love is so dear to
Me. But do you want to kiss Me? Kiss the wounds of My Son. Dress them
with the balm of your love. I suffered spiritually the pangs of the
scourges, of the thorns and the torture of the nails and of the
cross. And likewise I feel spiritually all the caresses given to my
Jesus, as they are as many kisses given to Me. And then come. I am
the Queen of Heaven. But I am always the Mother...»
And
I am happy.
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