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    1945: The Way Mary Really Looks

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    1945: The Way Mary Really Looks Empty 1945: The Way Mary Really Looks

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    Notebook: 1945-50
    Chp: The Way Mary Really Looks
    Page: 456


    December 28, 1947

    Mary Most Holy, who had filled this month of December with Herself, always present (She alone from the 8th on, Entirely Lovely, the Lily of Paradise, in her appearance as Mary Immaculate, indescribable Light which is flesh possessing the immaterial--no, not immaterial, for it is a real body--or, rather, the transfigured, ideal beauty of glorified bodies), descended today, the feast of the Holy Innocents, from her niche of light (the light emanating from her blessed body) and became Mary of Nazareth, the pure, lovely, delicate, motherly, humble Mary who lived in Palestine twenty centuries ago.

    She came to my bedside, dressed in white, with a light linen veil of thin-woven cloth over her blond hair, parted at the top of her head, just as I had seen her so many times in the visions.... She was gentle, but slightly sad. Resting her very lovely hands on the edge of my bed, though she said:

    "I am here. So that you can contemplate me, study my features, from very close up, once again, and grasp where the difference lies between what I was like on earth and what I am now like in Heaven.

    "In Lourdes, in Fatima, and in the apparitions in general, I appear as I am now in Heaven, and my appearance already possesses the indescribable luminous beauty of glorified bodies. The beauty which the seers of those apparitions never grasp entirely, in all its details. Note that they are able to mention the clothing I wear, the rosary I hold, the rock or tree where I stand, the gestures I make, and the expression on my face, but they are always uncertain--and, involuntarily, they are never truthful--about describing my face and the color of my eyes and hair and skin. They make an effort to do so. But they do manage to; they cannot do so.

    "None of the souls of the seers has seen me to the extent that you have seen me, as a Girl, Spouse, and Mother on earth and as the Queen of Heaven. And every time you say to yourself, 'It is still Her. But how different She is as the glorious Queen of Heaven, taken up in body and soul among the angels, from the times when She is the humble Mary of Nazareth.'

    "Look at me carefully, daughter, and soothe your pain. Look at me. Am I Mary of Nazareth?"

    I observed her carefully, close as she was to my face. I examined her skin, of a warm magnolia paleness suffused with a tenuous pink on her cheeks, her appropriately distended red lips, her thin, straight nose, her perfectly proportioned, clear skyblue eyes under her lofty, smooth brow, the perfect oval face of a girl... I don't know why her face always make me think of a white flame or a lily bud about to open--the curves are so gentle in their oval.... I looked at her beautiful mildly blond hair--fine, soft, and slightly wavy. I considered that if, instead of being clasped into heavy braids extending over her head, they were hanging loose, the waviness would have been more marked... And, above all, I got lost perceiving the tenuous color of her body breathing close to me and her fragrance--her characteristic scent, the smell of Mary, the smell of the Virgin....

    Mary read my wish to abandon myself on her motherly shoulder to obtain relief in so many afflictions of every kind and drew to herself. I remained like that--I don't know for how long. She then left me, saying, "Write that I have clasped you to my Heart.' I wrote this last five lines.

    She then said, "And now look at me." She became transfigured, rising from the ground, separating herself from my bed, supported by a silver cloud bathed in her extremely white light. Her body shone and her robe, turning from white to "white light," shone. Her face shone, growing sharper, as if the light were spiritualizing it. Her enraptured gaze shone. The light was so bright that the pale blue of her eyes became a "ray," and the gold of her hair was almost no longer distinguishable as such--it seemed dark in comparison to the light emitted by the glorified Body of the Mother of God.

    She lowered her eyes towards me and smiled, asking, "Is it me?"

    "Yes."

    "But am I the same as the woman who was Jesus', Mother?"

    "Yes...and no," I answered intrepidly, for intrepidity is needed to make certain comparisons and confessions.

    "And yet it is me. You see. I am like this in Heaven. I appeared like this in Lourdes and Fatima. Where the seers saw me most clearly, since they were innocent, like you, my daughter. The more innocent creatures are, the more they see me as I am and describe me exactly, insofar as they can as creatures, and have my likeness sculpted, insofar as an image can resemble me."

    She came back to me, in human form... She asked, "Is your torment being calmed?" I wept. She caressed me. I cried because since I had read that she appeared to Bruno Cornacchiola (I now know his name) with dark hair of an oriental type, I had thought I was deceived in saying Mary was blond. And yet she is. A pale blond, moreover, nearly straw-colored, almost pure gold. I was seeing it clearly. She was here, with her head less than thirty centimeters away from my eyes!

    She caressed me to console me and said:

    "O Maria, do not be afraid. The shadow of the grotto and the mantle greatly contributed to the mistake. And it was not necessary for me to reveal myself perfectly to a sinner, as with the Innocent Bernarda, Lucy, Hyacinth, Francis, and the little John of my Jesus.

    "But listen carefully. To you, that are a Servant of Mary, I say that the craftsman who sculpted me in such a way that I do not recognize myself would have done well to recall the statues of Lourdes and Fatima, where I am depicted insofar as man can depict the image of the Mother of God... And, above all, he should have drawn inspiration from the face with which I am portrayed at Our Lady of the Annunciation in Florence--the face from which, if man and time had not altered the image, everyone could discern what I was like when the Spirit of God rendered me pregnant with God. The smoke from candles and time have darkened the colors, and men have done damage... But one can still see what God's Girl, Joseph's Betrothed, was like in the springtime of her years, in the blooming Nazarene springtime.

    "Look at me and forget the pain, the fear--everything. Remember: 'I saw the Lamb standing on Mount Zion and, with Him, 144,000 people on whose foreheads his Name and that of the Father were written...and they were singing a new song which no one could learn except those 144,000 rescued from the earth... The first fruits for God and the Lamb, nor was any deceit found in their mouths.' [Revelation 14-5] Do you think you can't belong to this multitude because you are not an innocent? It is further stated that the angel of the Lord marks 144,000 servants of the Lord with God's sign and that they come in white robes to the eternal hosanna after having passed from the great tribulation. [Revelation 7-17] As you have it. But, you see, I, the Queen of the Angels and Mother of God, am impressing that sign on your forehead with a kiss.

    "Be at peace. The Triune Lord and I, starting on the earth, are drying all your tears."

    I abandoned myself again to her motherly embrace.


    Peace be with you always
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    Poem

    Post Wed Nov 16, 2011 2:54 am by Poem


    Notebook: 1945-50
    Chp: Personnal Remarks On Mary's Apparitions
    Page: 460

    December 31, 1947

    I want to close this 1947 by speaking of Mary Most Holy. They are my words, though.

    The Most Blessed Virgin had promised me "a great gift" for Christmas. I received many Christmas presents. And of many kinds. Some, quite bitter; others, filled with wisdom; one...very sweet. But that one is a secret. And yet I don't feel that "the great gift" is that one. I say that the great gift is precisely the first point (see December 25th dictation), just as I stated from the outset on taking an inventory of the supernatural and natural gifts received on December 25. Yes, the first and the second, the two which have shaped me most in Christ.... Most bitter, like his chalice. Meritorious, let us hope, like an act of suffering by Him. The complex passion of Christ, which is completed in me. Thank You, my Lord.

    But today I want to comment on the little work on Our Lady of the Three Fountains, which was brought to me to read at Christmas and which I must return to its owner tomorrow. The work was written by Giulio Loccatelli, Unitas Publlishers, and is entitled Our Lady Appeared and Spoke in the Grotto of the Three Fountains.. I was printed by Il Giornale d'Italia Company, Via dell'Umilta 48, Rome, on October 4, 1947. I am specifying in this way so that those reading this notebook one day will clearly understand what I read and commented on and when.

    I do not find it at all strange that Mary Most Holy should have appeared to a great sinner, a man who, because he was a man and because of his hostility towards the Church and the Virgin, can certainly not be termed a...hysteric, someone affected by spiritual hallucinations who amounted to a....religious fanatic. No, this certainly cannot be said of Mr. Cornacchiola. It is said regarding me, Bernadette, Lucy, Francis, and Hyacinth, as it was said of Neumann. Children and women: abnormal beings for...so-called scientists, who in reality are, in my view, nothing but the truly incredulous and atheists, even if they wear the priest's cassock--atheists because they deny that God can manifest Himself miraculously on his own or through the manifestation of his Virgin, the Daughter, Spouse and Mother of God or the Saints and Angels.

    "Children may be presumed to be... influenced by stories... A comfortable explanation which those not able to believe in Divine Power and Mercy provide for themselves. Women may be presumed to be...suffering from hallucinations because they are subject to...imperfections or the laws of female nature leading them to...get delirious to compensate for what they have not had: a husband. Another comfortable explanation provided to themselves by those mentioned above--who are unable to believe in God's Power and Mercy and are incapable of responding to them is such a way as to reduce the separation in vision and comprehension between creatures and God, to the point of being able to "see and hear" matters of heavenly revelation--is to apply the phrase "physical illness" to what is a psychological and spiritual perfection granted by Divine Goodness to those who burn and are consumed in a single love and desire: love for God and desire for Him.

    But Cornacchiola is not a child. And he is not a woman. On the contrary, he was not even one of those meek men with the heart of a child or a sweet, gentle woman. He was a violent fellow. Even if it were not written in the work, it would suffice to look at his photograph to understand that he was. The tough, aggressive face of a subversive, rendered lean by the rage devouring him, burned by the blaze of his anti-Catholic passion, with the eyes--please forgive me--of a delinquent rather than a normal man. A magnificent example of a revolutionary agitator, able to preach hate and sedition to the mobs... And indeed... he preached hatred and sedition against the Church of Christ, the flock of Christ, against God, the Virgin...

    I don't know when that photograph of him in the work was taken, whether it was before or after the Apparition. But even if it is from after the apparition--and I am not astonished, since I know how long it takes to convalesce spiritually from infernal intoxication in such fashion that not a diabolical expression, but one that is serene, proper to a man who loves God and is his friend, returns to one's face--I must say that his face has still not become pacified. Of course, in this photograph the image chiseled by Hate is still on his face, the image he arrogantly raised up against his Creator, against the most sweet Virgin and Mother, in order to howl his hatred at Them...

    I say I am not astonished that she appeared to a sinner, a Protestant. On the contrary, I say it could well take place. First of all, because a soul and several other souls (those of the whole Cornacchiola family) were saved. In addition, because in this way the usual deniers of us seers will not be able to wave the usual explanations of...infantilism prompted by certain influences and hysteria connected with hallucinations. I would like God and the Virgin to appear to many sinners and enemies of God and the Church, both to convert them, as with Saul on the road to Damascus, and so that the incredulous world will be convinced that God can do all and his manifestations to spirits are true.

    And let us proceed further. I read on page six, in the sixth line in the chapter: "The seer messenger (four apparitions)..., well versed in the study of the Bible and the Gospels."

    Good for him! I am so unversed that since the Work was finished and I thus no longer needed to verify the words I heard in the dictations as taken from the Bible and introduce the chapters and verses (eight months and three days have now transpired), I have not opened the Bible any more. If I touch it, it is to dust it off. In any case! What should I open it for? I understand nothing in terms of doctrine, symbols, and so on. Historically, what is before Christ does not interest me very much, and what is in the Gospels... is known to me as their chronicler. I thus leave everything closed... and read the memories I possess within myself: my only spiritual reading....

    But those who say I write inspired words "because I am highly cultured" and so on, when it is not true--why don't they invalidate the dictation by Cornacchiola, "who is well versed" and so forth, as written by him? To sling mud (try to sling mud) at Most Holy Mary Immaculate, dogmas, the Church, and so on, he must have carefully read, dissected, and minutely inspected--that is, the...pseudocontraditions which, by dint of observing with the microscope of atheistic hatred, may perhaps be found in the tradition and even in something higher than the tradition!

    "I have nothing to do with all this. I have always believed, simply, in everything the Church has proposed for my belief. Believed. Like that. Without reasoning to explain to myself what is a mystery. I have believed, as Jesus says, "with the blessedness of absolute faith." Blessed are those able to believe without seeing. [John 20] Until April 23, 1943, Good Friday, I would never have imagined that the Master, as a Divine Friend who had been guiding me for decades, would want to become my Master and reveal to me so many mysteries and events; I would never have imagined I could understand such lofty things while the light of his Beam made me capable of understanding. I now know the essence of the deepest truths, but the beauty of the lesson has been lost. To get it back, I must search through the dictation, and, in spite of this, I understand poorly, for, away from the Divine Light, I do not understand very well even what I comprehended on a given day... But I do not mind. I go on believing, simply. A day will come when I shall understand everything. Everything--that is, God. When I know and possess God, I shall understand everything. All the mysteries. All the truths. All the lessons. And eternally!

    Let us proceed further. We come to the description of the Apparition. I find it realistic that neither the youngsters nor Cornacchiola were frightened on seeing Mary. The supernatural, when it comes from heaven, never causes fear--at most, it may cause amazement.

    Since childhood, I have always been quite afraid of apparitions. At boarding school, too, when the Sisters would say, "Just imagine, if Jesus were to appear! What joy!" I would reply, "No, for goodness' sake! If I could not get out through the door, I would escape down there through the window." I remember the terror I felt one night when I was mistakenly left locked in the school chapel. It was June. The Sacred Heart was on the main altar. I had asked for permission to go and visit it when recreation was coming to an end. And I was given permission... I don't know why, but I didn't hear the lay sister locking the doors. I must have been praying really intensely...When...I recovered awareness and headed for the exits (three doors), I found them all closed. I went back to the altar and was about to pass through the sacristy... But, unfortunately, I raised my eyes towards the image... And, from the play of the moonlight, it seemed to me that it was moving, bending towards me. I lost my head with fear. I screamed and kicked so much that, though the chapel was isolated, they heard me and came to my aid... If they had not heard me, they would have found me dead of fright in the morning.

    I say this to indicate how afraid I am of what goes beyond the natural And yet, when Jesus' love changed from inner words to inner visions--whether short, gentle, or sad--and then, growing more and more, became an embrace, a manifestation of voice, presence, and contact--as it has been now for four years and eight months--I was not at all afraid. On the contrary! The strong, gentle hands of my Savior, hands caressing and caring for me, resting upon the sickest organs and in the most dangerous cries, to give me life to go on serving my Lord; pierced hands, left for me to examine; the tender, lukewarm little hands of the Child Jesus, placed by Mary on my bed; small pink feet, ice cold, given me to warm up; and the luminous feet of the Risen One, with the beaming ruby of their wounds given to me to kiss; the soft hair of Christ tickling my face during his embrace; the warmth of Christ's flesh; his strong, loving shoulder, Blood drunk from his open Heart, amidst the flames which do not cause the pain of a burn, but ineffable refreshment; and the soft breast of Mary, such light, pure hands, regal and maternal; and John's smile; and the inexpressible goodness of Joseph the Patriarch; and all of you that come to me, so good, so good, such great friends, and beautiful, the joy of my life as a victim--no, you do not cause me fear. The supernatural from heaven is peace and rejoicing. This alone.

    What Cornacchiola says on page eight, line eight, is also true: "I feel very, very light, almost loosed from the flesh and enveloped in ethereal light." Fine! He expressed himself quite well! I--who have been..experiencing physical agonies for years and feel precisely the releasing of the spirit form the flesh when I am at the most extreme point--observe the same liberation when the supernatural comes. The only difference is that, in the freedom of the spirit in supernatural manifestations, suffering is absent, and everything is joyous ecstasy....

    The following statement by him is also true: "A heavenly Woman impossible for me to describe." Indeed, it is impossible, even for those who have seen her hundreds and hundreds of times. And that fact that it was impossible for Cornacchiola, who saw her four times, is clear from his description of her....

    He speaks of black hair... Mary Most Holy explained in the dictation on November 24 why they appeared dark. On my own, I state that the light emanating from Mary when she manifests herself gloriously is such that any color seems dark in comparison to Mary's light when she appears enveloped in heavenly radiance.

    "A face of decorous beauty..." It is even more: "of perfect beauty!" An oriental type? I would say Jewish, rather than oriental. The oriental type generally has thick, sensual lips and rather wide-open, dark eyes. Mary does not have sensual lips or oriental eyes at all, as they appear for the majority. Eyes not at all Arabian or Indian or Asian. Not a bit, really. But a sweet gaze which I have sometimes noticed in young Jewish women and celestially light blue irises.

    But I am not surprised that Cornacchiola described her that way.... It is a beauty whose details escape one as soon as it has disappeared. A lovely poem remains within, but the detail gets lost. In the early times--until receiving a special grace from God, granted me so that I could describe clearly and exactly the appearance, too, of the characters portrayed in the work--I was always uncertain, once a vision was over, about the nuance of the hair, irises, and skin of both Jesus and Mar. Because to say, "They are blond" is very little. In the color of blond hair there are many nuances: from the nearly white blond of the albinos to the almost copper auburn. And the same applies to the irises. To say "sky blue" is to say nothing. There can be a very pale, virtually opal sky blue, a bright sky blue, a periwinkle blue, a purple blue, a sapphire blue, a green blue, and a turquoise blue. It is hard, very hard, to say--especially when spiritual and natural emotion absorbs us into the whole and not into the the details!

    The hairstyle... I have always seen her with her flowing locks parted at the top of her head. But that is not important. As she changes clothing, she can change hairstyle.

    Blessed Mary repeated the colors on November 24--a white robe, pink belt, and a green mantle. Exactly. Cornacchiola is a rare man who is able to describe the color of clothing with precision.

    The height of Blessed Mary. On comparing her to Jesus--at whose side I have often seen her close by--I would say 1.65 meters at most, since the top of Mary's head reaches Jesus' shoulders. But to us at present she seems taller than she is because of her long dresses extending to the ground. Long dresses are known to make people look taller.

    Her expression... Eh! Indeed! Blessed Mary is slightly sad--or, rather, always pensive, even when smiling. Moreover, if she speaks about human sins and her Son's pain over them, she gets really sad.

    "The very soft voice." Oh, that's it! That is easier to retain. Because it is a note of such sweetness that it penetrates us and remains. "Like no other." That's just right! A voice that makes you dissolve with joy. And we are able to remember it better than other material things, like color of hair, eyes, skin, and so on. Because the voice is so incorporeal. And, in those instants of vision, we perceive with the incorporeal part of ourselves.

    Yes, when the supernatural says to us, "Come," we rush to present ourselves. The spirit rushes. Because our spirit, though the slave of a reason oppressing it and wanting to separate it from its origin, is always desiring it, and at the powerful call of Good it turns and rushes ahead, when the hour of grace arrives for it, obtained through the wish of the Heavenly Beings or through the intercession of souls praying fro the sinner. In Cornacchiola's case, the nine Fridays of the Sacred Heart. And I am moved on considering that Mary, in appearing at the Three Fountains, in addition to the other admirable things done and taught by her, came to--shall we say--renew Jesus' promise to St. Margaret Mary. There are some who do no believe it. There are some who fulfill the nine Fridays just out of habit, with no firm trust that they are a pledge of salvation. And Mary, the Mother who formed the Heart of Jesus, thus comes to show tangibly that the nine Fridays of the Sacred Heart are eternal salvation.



    Peace be with you always
    Poem

    Post Wed Nov 16, 2011 2:55 am by Poem


    But I was saying that when the supernatural sends forth its call, the spirit turns and rushes over... And the spirit, by its nature, reaches the place of the encounter and understands, but burdensome matter finds it hard to follow the spirit. The spirit is agile, like an angel. The flesh is sluggish, like a sluggish animal. Slow to follow, perceive, and see, dull-witted in retaining, imperfect in remembering, quick to forget. It is torment of us seers when we emerge from the action of God: to be unable to see, understand, and recall any more, with the perfection with which we saw, understood, and recalled in the hour of union. We would like to be able to rediscover that perfect joy in ourselves, by the power of memory alone. But, unfortunately, we find only fragments of the picture, of the music we enjoyed... And we suffer, seeking--like people who have lost their sight, like those nourished with a sweet heavenly food which, with hunger for it and nausea towards everything else, we now search for everywhere without ever finding exactly the same food.

    Moreover, it is right for it to be this way. We have received the suprasensible joy of union and knowledge of God or Mary. What Paradise will be like, if we manage to just until death. It is right, after the free gift, which is a foretaste of our share in eternal joy, for us mortals, still in exile and under trial, to eat the bread of ashes of the children of Adam.

    God's choice of us is not an absolute privilege; it is not--and must not become in us--the basis for presuming we are forever above the condition of children of Adam the sinner. He deprived himself and deprived us for all time of the blessed life which God wanted for his creatures, and, as long as we are on the earth, we must taste punishment and turn the misfortunes deriving from Sin into a means of eternal victory. Our being chosen binds us to a holier life and a more complete sacrifice, both because we have received "a good measure" of wisdom, "packed together, shaken down, and overflowing," [Luke 6] and because we have undeservedly received an excellent gift of love. For this reason we hear ourselves being told by heavenly voices, "We do not promise you earthly joys. You will not be free from human pain, but, on the contrary, will suffer persecution. You will receive your gift in Heaven, though, if you are faithful." And since Mercy and Charity are even greater than Justice, in order to comfort us in the pain and persecution which remain for us as creatures and will be conferred upon us as "seers," God thus leaves the luminous memory of that hour, of those hours, in the depths of our spirit. Even if we are unable to revive the most lovely vision with all the slightest material details, the precious jewels of the lesson remains....

    "My first impulse was to speak, cry out," Cornacchiola says. It's true! The first time it is really like that. But human agitation is overcome by the joy and peace coming from the vision. And there is no more movement.... Afterwards, perhaps, when the instant of Heaven is over, a new vitality comes. A desire to act, to speak, to sing for joy! To share it with others! To say to them, "Come to the founts of peace and joy!" But...spiritual modesty binds us. At least it does in my case... And to lift the veils over the mystery which has been accomplished is costly... One obeys, if God has so ordered.... But one would prefer to keep the treasure hidden...Cornacchiola...gave vent to the exuberance deriving from such hours with the words engraved on the tufa and the sign left in the grotto. I...express it with song... The only thing I can still do, infirm as I am!

    "The black robe on the ground and a broken cross." Since 1943 (December or November) I, too, have seen these two things trampled on, violated, and they were pointed to me by Mary. And concerning them and what they sought to express the Divine Master spoke. But I cannot reveal that tremendous lesson, which I always bear in mind. I don't know whether there is mention of what the black (priestly) robe and that broken cross mean in the portion of the secret message Cornacchiola received. If it is so, God, who, in order not to have me hated even more by a certain group of persons, had me destroy that dictation, to inform his Vicar thereof took Cornacchiola, who is (materially) stronger than I, to react against the backlash from that group.

    "I have not lost a syllable of this extraordinary conversation because of the very strange phenomenon whereby, when I had not yet transcribed it faithfully, it regularly unfolded in my brain, from the first words, 'I am,' to the last word, 'Love,' with a slow rhythm, like a discourse impressed upon a record repeating itself without interruption." It's just like that! When Wisdom wants us to remember and we are not in a position to write while Wisdom speaks, the words are then repeated, just like those impressed upon a record, and they do not grow silent until they can be transcribed.

    On many--dozens of--occasions, this has happened to me, too, and especially when the dictations are commands to be transmitted, messages received to be conveyed to someone, or so that they will remain in my mind. For instance, though four years and forty days have passed since I received that famous, tremendous dictation, which had to conceal at once in a sealed envelope and was to be given to the Pontiff in office at the time of my death and which later, as a result of events many are aware of, had to be destroyed (burnt) on March 24, 1946, through an order I received from St. Gabriel the Archangel--and I burned it without opening the envelope again, and thus without rereading what I had written on November 19, 1943 (as far as I recall) and no longer remembered (note carefully)--the words in that dictation have been re-ignited in my mind since I burned the text, and it hears them every day (even though I make every effort not to hear them, for they are too frightening), just as if a record were repeating them to me, or a tireless repeater. And so it is, too, with certain secret lessons which God wants me to remember, without having to write them, because He does not want others to benefit from them after bringing me so much affliction in refusing to bend to the evidence of the supernatural unfolding within me. Only my Director knows them.

    I perfectly recognize that the lesson received by Cornacchiola comes from Heaven because of the words "prudence, exercise prudence...; science will deny God." How often I have heard and hear myself being told these words! And I have had a demonstration that they are true. Isn't science combatting the Work in which the Wisdom which dictated it is shining...?

    The fragrance.... That's it. Many of my witnesses have noticed the fragrance remaining after Most Holy Mary's coming to me. And others, too, have smelled it, but, unaware of its source, they have thought I was emitting perfumes... I have no perfumes at home and thus cannot emit what I don't have. The best part is that sometimes, when the wave of perfume announcing Mary comes into the room or remains after her coming, there are some who perceive it and others who do not.

    Father Mariano was with me at Christmas. He was speaking... And I was contemplating. I really don't know what he said that day, nor do I know what effect my distraction and my silence had on him... Marta came in and said, "What a perfume! It smells like incense. It smells--I don't know." I was shaken by this exclamation and looked at Father Mariano, who was saying very, very calmly, "Perfume? I don't smell anything." Mrs. Panigadi came in at that point and exclaimed, in turn, "What a fragrance!" The scent, then, was perceived by Marta, Mrs. Panigadi, and me and not by Father Mariano. And the same smell is described by some as the smell of violets, by others as the smell of roses, and by others as the smell of lilies or incense... I call it "the scent of white flowers" because I perceive therein the fragrances of normal lilies, lilies of the valley, magnolias, and jasmines, with tinges of violets.... A special scent, not analyzable, but penetrating and very soft.

    Peace be with you always

    Poem

    Post Wed Nov 16, 2011 2:55 am by Poem


    And, since I am on this topic, I must also say something else. When Most Holy Mary is in front of me, I pray to her with greater intensity for those who ask for my prayer or who I know are in need of heavenly mercy... I say to Mary, "My Mother and Queen, I ask you, go to so-and-so or so-and-so. Console him or her, take them graces, touch their hearts, illumine their minds," and so forth, according to whoever it is. I willingly make the sacrifice of losing the vision of Mary Most Holy provided other souls will receive comfort or repent. And already more than one of my seven witnesses, even miles and miles away from me, have spoken to me of "special waves of mysterious fragrance, in specific hours of pain or doubt over something to be done or even...wickedness." For not all of my witnesses are saints. Two of them certainly are. But the other five! They are creatures, with their selfishness, defects, spiritual lukewarmness, and so on. One is the person who at Christmas questioned the Virginity of Mary and her physical integrity before and after birth.... (On December 25, 1947)

    But Jesus chose them, exactly that way. Just so it will not be said that, since they are all religious (perhaps sanctimonious), they are easily influenced... No, they are creatures with different temperaments. Some are not observant at all; others, not very observant; and others, just souls (only two). One alone lives with me--Marta--and she is certainly not a model of mysticism! I have to urge her to make her carry out her religious practices.... And she performs them very distractedly.

    I shall reproduce here a passage from the letter of a witness, a serious, balanced, religious person: "Recently a special perfume, like that of the Rosary beads (blessed by Mary), has been coming to prompt a more vivid memory of the two Marys: the little Virgin of Nazareth, who gives me the Incarnate Word, and the crucified Maria, secretary of the Word. This perfume sometimes reaches in my room, sometimes while I officiate, on certain occasions penetrating and on others light and delicate, and gives me a perception of closeness which assures me of spiritual communion and heavenly protection. A sweet comfort in my solitude, a divine delicateness which comes to lighten the sacrifice of my crucifixion (on not being able to be near you)" and so on (Letter of December 25, 1947).

    To a great extent I have left behind the topic I was considering (the Apparition), but it is my Guardian Angel who is suggesting that I write these personal notes on my phenomena, saying, "They are not useless. Write them." But let us return to Loccateli's publication.

    "I am the Virgin of Revelation. I am She who is in the Eternal Trinity." Mary said to me, "I am the Virgin Queen of Revelation" and exhorted me to say, "Queen and Revelation" after Queen of Peace when reciting the litanies. "I am She who is in the Eternal Trinity." When I read these words in a very concise newspaper article (a few lines), I was really jolted, for in 1943--that is, four years before I read them in the newspaper article in May or June 1947--they were spoken to me by Mary, just the same in all the letters of the alphabet...with the addition of "Most Holy" before the word "Trinity" and without "Eternal." I am too ignorant of religious subjects to be able to comment on the chapter entitled "The New Attribute of the Virgin" (pages 12 and 13) in the publication issue. But it seems to me that in the Work and the dictations in general a great deal of Revelation comes from the lips of Mary, even if one does not go so far as to say that all the revelation in the Work has come through Mary, who gave us the Incarnate Word, that Jesus the Master who has dictated so many lessons to me.

    How many warnings concerning the more or less near future are to be found in the dictations from April 23, 1943 until today! On both the pause between one war and another (1943-1945) and the period of the precursors of the Antichrist, and on the Antichrist and the weapons (atomic and others) given by Satan to men to kill bodies and spirits in a despair cursing God, and on the persecution of the Church and the fall of one third of the stars swept away by the Dragon's tail... The stars... Priests... Alas! I would like to forget so many things! But revelation, in its essence, is not forgotten. Why know, my God? I preferred not to know!

    "To pray for the unity of Christians." In now distant 1931, my Lord, ordering me--not with imperiousness of God, but with the love of a Spouse--to offer my life once again solemnly, suggesting that I do so as well for the unity of the churches in a single Sheepfold. And since July 1, 1931, the feast of the Most Precious Blood, I have made the solemn offering of myself for the unity of the churches as well. For the time being, I have not shed my blood; I have not mixed it with the Divine Blood shed for the remission of many--Jesus' Heart would like it to be for all... But if my dying is not bloody, this slow death of mine amidst the agonies of so many illnesses--which for fifteen years have kept me on a bed after having tortured me on my feet previously for four years and made me suffer since 1920--is not for this reason less of shedding of my vitality. And I very willingly suffer for my "separated brothers and sisters." I would like to obtain their return to the Church of Rome.

    In the Work and the dictations, too, on several occasions I have received allusions by Jesus to these poor brothers and sisters separated from the true Sheepfold, and I harbor a genuine, deep love for them; the sacrifice does not burden me because I would like them to be in the Life, the Way, and the Truth.

    When in 1942 I heard about Sister M. Gabriella, the Trappist in Grottaferrata, I had only one regret, the one that has lasted until now: God's taking so long to consume me, whereas I am in such a hurry to carry out the sacrifice provided my poor separated brothers and sisters will come back into the Mystical Body.

    Page 21 of the publication. Cornacchiola says, "I was born on April 12, 1947," and the journalist Loccatelli remarks, "The first, indisputable miracle." Yes, and I say: it is also indisputable proof that it was really the Virgin Mary who appeared. For only Heaven converts like us like this--totally, whether quickly or slowly, but forever.

    Once Father Miglorini, then my spiritual father and director, to reassure me about what was happening to me, said, "I am sure that it is the heavenly supernatural because I have seen spiritual changes being worked in you and sudden actions of grace being carried out. And you, too should believe this." I still have those letters... Afterwards... I don't know what happened in him. I do not want to know. But I also have indisputable proof that the words which are dictated to me come from God, Mary, and the holy Inhabitants of the Heavens. And the proof is the conversion of the Belfanti family--anticlerical, spiritistic, and so on--to God, their abjuring spiritistic practices, their faithfulness to the Sacraments.

    And, more than anything else, to judge the origin of the Work and me, who am in greater distress than Cornacchiola--though my life before the work was such as to prompt consideration of contact with the divine involving me, a little victim, and the Great Victim, my love, as more than possible--I think one should take pain into account, in my case, my faithful companion from childhood until... death, pain of every kind--physical, moral--which is the only truly faithful thing I have had in life and to which I a faithful, beloved pain...and, as regards the work, the conversions obtained through it. This more than anything else. For a desire for concealment, patience in suffering, and love for pain are things which God has certainly placed in me and which I have seconded out of love for Him. But they can be given to those who are not spokesmen, too. But converting the possessed clearly cannot come from the devil. One would otherwise have to say the Lucifer is combatting himself, tearing away his prey, and offering to God... An impossible absurdity. For Lucifer is greedy; he devours and does not give back, unless God Himself fights against him and wins, saving the unfortunate.

    And I, too, hall conclude with Cornacchiola's own words, which are so true and right! "Those who have had the unhoped for good fortune to set their gaze upon such heavenly beauty can only desire death to relive the unspeakable blessedness eternally." Yes, and I hope to be able to do so soon, leaving the earth, where only Jesus and Mary have been my sun and flower, in order to adore eternally, with no more limitations, the only Good Ones, the only Loving Ones, as regards poor Maria, whom I have ever known from childhood until now.

    As for the statue... What poor creatures we are! I don't know what effect that image has on Cornacchiola. Unless Mary Most Holy, to bring joy to her convert, transforms that... scarecrow in his sight, I think Cornacchiola will be unable to look at it in order not to suffer. I am not able to look at it. Is that Most Holy Mary? It would have been better if Ponzi, leaving aside the rigid twentieth century had drawn inspiration form the statue sculpted in marble by that French sculptor who, following instructions by Bernadette Soubirous, created the Lourdes image, or that statue in Fatima, which so closely resembles Mary Most Holy. Furthermore, the Blessed Virgin herself expressed her judgment on this on December 28, 1947, and I shall say no more. Well, I'll say one more thing: this time of wrath and darkness renders us so blind, deaf, and foolish as regards Beauty that we are unable to provide even a pale image of what Eternal Beauty is (Jesus, the Virgin, the Saints, and so on)...and we manufacture...monsters reflecting the stiff hardness of our spirits, dead to Love.....

    END OF CHAPTER!



    Peace be with you always

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