Fatima: The True Story / Part 1a

For those who believe, no explanation is necessary.
For those who do not believe, no explanation is possible.

—Author Unknown

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As our country decays second by second, I find myself wanting to retreat to a quieter place away from the mayhem.

What is happening to our great America?

Perhaps, for me, ‘the icing on the cake’ was the ‘speech’ given by President Obama at the UN this week…

he’s clearly sold out the greatest nation on the earth….

Although I firmly believe in standing up for truth,
the time has come for America to embrace something even more ‘radical’ than that of this administration…

we, as a whole, need to seek God in true humility and obedience.

And so instead of posting numerous news events and opinions regarding these upside down days,

I’ve decided to return to my ‘roots’ and record the true story of what happened in the very small village of Fatima in 1916.

As I post these excerpts, I ask that the Holy Spirit touches the hearts of any readers and deliver its true message therefore eliminating any pre-judged prejudices regarding Catholicism – this, in my opinion, isn’t about ‘religion’ but, rather, the message.

***

The following excerpts from the book, The True Story of Fatima, are true accounts taken directly from Lucia’s memoirs and checked by her in person.

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l. The Angel

Fatima is a village in the very center of Portugal, about 70 miles north of Lisbon. It consists of numerous little hamlets hidden away in the elevation known as Serra de Aire. One such hamlet is known as Aljustrel; and it is here, and more especially in the surrounding rocky pasturelands, that our story is centered.

On a day unnamed in any of the records, in the year 1915, four little girls had been playing in the fields. Lucia de Jesus dos Santos, a child of eight, was among them. When the sun told them that it was mid-day, they sat down to their lunch, and having finished, began the Rosary as was their custom even at that tender age. During the recitation all of them noticed the sudden appearance of a cloud in a form like that of a man, hovering above the foliage of the village.

“Like a cloud, whiter than snow, slightly transparent, with a human outline,” was Lucia’s description…..

…A year passed, Lucia as usual was out in the fields with the sheep. This time, her little cousins, Jacinta and Francisco, were her companions and playmates.

“We had gone with the sheep to the section of my father’s land that lies at the foot of the Cabeco,” Lucia recalled, giving us from memory the exact details. “It is called the Casa Velha. About mid-morning, a drizzle began to fall. Seeking shelter, we climbed the slope, followed by our sheep. It was then that we first entered the Cave that was to become so sacred. It lies in the middle of one of my godfather’s olive orchards and from it can be seen the little village where I was born, my father’s house and the hamlets of Casa Velhas and Eira da Pedra. The olive orchards extend for long distances, until they seem to become one with these small hamlets.

“The rain stopped,” Lucia went on, “and the sun shone brightly, but we spent the day in the cave. We had our lunch and after the Rosary we started to play jacks.

“We played only a short while, when a strong wind shook the trees, and made us raise our eyes to see what was happening, for the day was serene. There above the trees toward the East, we began to see a light, whiter than snow. It was the form of a young man, transparent, more brilliant thatn a crystal pierced by the rays of the sun…” Lucia tried to describe each detail of his appearance. “As he approached, we began to distinguish his features. We were so surprised and half absorbed, and we could not utter one word. He came near us and said:
“Fear not! I am the Angel of Peace. Pray with me!”

The Angel knelt on the ground and bowed very low. By some inspiration, they imitated him and repeated the words they heard him pronounce:

“My God, I believe, I adore, I hope, and I love Thee. I ask pardon for all those who do not believe in Thee, do not adore Thee, do not hope in Thee, do not love Thee.”

We repeated these words three times.

Then he arose and said:

“Pray this way. The Hearts of Jesus and Mary are attentive to the voice of your supplications.”

The Angel disappeared and the awareness of the supernatural was so intense that for a long space of time they remained there in the same position in which he left them, unaware of their very existence, repeating that same payer over and over again.

“We felt the presence of God so intensely, so intimately, that we dared not speak even to each other. The next day we felt ourselves still enveloped by that atmosphere. Only very gradually did its intensity diminish within us. None of us thought of speaking of this apparition or of recommending that it be kept a secret. It imposed secrecy of itself. It was so intimate that it was not easy to utter even a single word about it. Perhaps it made a deeper impression upon us because it was the Angel’s first clear manifestation.”

***

Part 1b to follow.