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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