Fatima: The True Story / Part 3b

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

—Author Unknown

***

As I’ve penned in the first post of "Fatima: The True Story,” I find myself wanting to retreat to a quieter place away from the mayhem.


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.

Again, as I post these excerpts, I ask that the Holy Spirit touches the hearts of many and delivers 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 have been personally checked by her.

***

…When Lucia reached home, she said not a word to anyone about the Heavenly Visitor. After supper and prayers, she listened to the reading from the New Testament and went right to bed. How different were things in her cousins’ home! The Marto's had gone to market that day to buy a pig. They were not home when Francisco and Jacinta returned from the fields. Francisco, meanwhile, busied himself in the yard but Jacinta waited at the door for her parent’s arrival. She had already forgotten Lucia’s solemn warning, “Not a word, even to your mother.” Jacinta never kept any secrets from her mother, and today, when the greatest thing on earth had happened, how could she keep it from her mother?

Finally, her mother and father came in sight, her mother walking ahead, the father guiding the little animal. “The child ran to me,” her mother described the scene, “and took hold of me as she had never before done. ‘Mother,’ she burst out excitedly, ‘I saw Our Lady today in the Cova da Iria.’ ‘My! My!’ I said. ‘Don’t tell me. You must certainly be a good little girl to see Our Lady!”

“Sad and disappointed, she followed me into the house, insisting over and over again, ‘But I did see Her!’ Then she began to tell me all that had happened, the flash, their fear, the light. She told me how beautiful and pretty the Lady was, how the Lady was surrounded by a blinding light and how the Lady asked her to say the Rosary every day. I put no stock in her words, saying ‘You are really silly. As if Our Lady would appear to a little girl like you!”

“Then I began to mix the feed for the little pig. My husband was standing by the pen, watching to see how it would get along with the other animals. After the animals were fed, he came into the house and sat by the kitchen fire to eat his supper. His brother-in-law, Antonio da Silva, was with us and all my children were there. Then, with some severity, I told Jacinta to repeat this story of Our Lady at the Cova da Iria. Right away she began, with all the simplicity in the world.”

“It was a Lady so beautiful, so pretty… dressed in white, with a chain of gold around Her neck extending down to Her breast… Her head was covered with a white mantle, yes, very white… I don’t know but it was whiter even than milk… which covered Her to the feet… all embroidered in gold… how beautiful! She kept Her hands together, in this way.’ The cold rose from the stool, joined her hands at the breast, imitating the vision. ‘She had beads between Her fingers… Oh! What a beautiful Rosary She had… all of gold, brilliant as the stars at night with a crucifix that was shining. The Lady spoke a lot with Lucia, but never with me or with Francisco. I heard everything they said. Mother, it is necessary to say the Rosary every day! The Lady said this to Lucia. She said also that She would take the three of us to Heaven, Lucia, Francisco and me, too… and many other things I don’t know, but Lucia does. And when She entered into Heaven it seemed that the doors closed with such speed that Her feet were almost caught outside.”

Francisco confirmed the words of Jacinta. The girls in the family were most interested, but the boys all laughed at the story, echoing the words of their mother, “A good little saint you are, for Our Lady to appear to you.” Antonio da Silva tried to offer his explanation, “If the children saw a Lady all dressed in white… who could it be but Our Lady?”

The father, meanwhile, was mulling it over in his mind, trying to fit together the religious principles involved. Finally he said, “Since the beginning of time, Our Lady has appeared many times and im many ways. This is what has been helping us. If the world is in bad shape today, it would be worse, had there not been cases of this sort. The power of God is great! We do not yet know what it is, but it will be something… God’s will be done.” Later he confessed, “I believed what the children said was true almost at once. Yes, I believed immediately. For I was thinking that the children had received no education, not the least. Were it not for the help of Providence, they would never even have thought of it. Did I think the children might be lying? Not at all! Francisco and Jacinta were too much opposed to untruths.” Some time later, when the Bishop of Leiria published his official decision on the matter, he did no more than develop the arguments advanced by Ti Marto over his bowl of soup. Finally, they all retired, taking the father’s advice that they should leave it in God’s hands.

When Jacinta’s mother saw the next morning some of her neighbors, she related with a smiling condescension the children’s secrets. The news caused such a sensation that in no time at all it spread all through the village, finally reaching Lucia’s family.

Maria dos Anjos was the first to hear the news. “Lucia,” she said to her sister, “I have heard people talking, saying that you saw Our Lady at the Cova da Iria. Is that true?”

“Who told you?” Lucia was so surprised that the news had gotten out. She stood there, thinking. Then, after a while, she mumbled, “And I had asked her so much not to tell anyone!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know if it is Our Lady. It was a most beautiful Lady.”

“And what did that Lady tell you?”

“She wanted us to go to the Cova da Iria for six months, without interruption, and then She would say who She is and what She wants.”

“Didn’t you ask Her who She was?”

“I asked Her where She was from; and She said to me, ‘I am from Heaven.’”

Lucia fell into great silence so that she would not have to tell anything, but Maria coaxed her so much that she told her more.

Lucia was very sad. At this point Francisco came along and confirmed Lucia’s suspicion that it was Jacinta who had wagged her tongue. Senhora Maria Rosa laughed at the whole thing. But when her eldest daughter told her was Lucia had said, she realized something serious was taking place. Calling Lucia immediately, she made her repeat the whole story. The gossip is true! She hated to believe it, but it was beginning to appear that her child was turning out to be a liar!

The afternoon of the fourteenth, the children went out as usual with their sheep. Lucia, frightened as she was by her mother’s unbelieving attitude, walked along in silence. Jacinta, too, was miserable, embarrassed because she had broken her promise to Lucia. The joy of the vision had been quickly destroyed by the ridicule and disbelief that had met their sincere account of the vision. Finally, they reached the Cova da Iria, and Jacinta sat on a rock silent, gloomy as could be. Lucia, feeling sorry at her little cousin’s grief, forced a smile and said, “Jacinta, let’s play.”

“I don’t want to play today!”

“Why?”

“Because I am thinking that the Lady told us to say the Rosary and make sacrifices for the conversion of sinners. Now, when we say the Rosary, we have to say every word in the Hail Mary and the Our Father.”

“Yes,” Lucia agreed, “but how are we going to make sacrifices?”

“We can give our lunch to the sheep,” Francisco suggested.

***

Part 3c to follow.

***

The following video, “The Miracle of Our Lady of Fatima - Part 03 of 10 /”, courtesy of You Tube.



###

Fatima: The True Story / Part 3a

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

—Author Unknown

***

As I’ve penned in the first post of "Fatima: The True Story,” I find myself wanting to retreat to a quieter place away from the mayhem.


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.

Again, as I post these excerpts, I ask that the Holy Spirit touches the hearts of many and delivers 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 have been personally checked by her.

***

...May, the month of flowers, follows the long April rains that wash the face of mother earth after her long winter sleep. Then God covers the world with jewels more beautiful than any precious stones. What can be more beautiful than the dainty, many-colored flowers of May?

On Sunday, the thirteenth of May, in the year of 1917, during the midst of the First World War, God sent to earth the loveliest flower of the ages. His own beautiful Mother, Mary, whom [Catholics] address as 'Queen of the May'. On that day, the children went to early Mass. “Heaven forbid,” Senhora Marto said, “that we should ever miss hearing Mass on Sundays, whether it rained or thundered or even if I were nursing my babies. Sometimes we had to go to Boleiros, Atouguia or Santa Catarina, almost six miles journey. I had to get up early and leave everything in my husband’s care. He would go to a later Mass. We could not take the babies with us when they were little, for then, neither we nor anyone else in church would have been able to hear Mass. Babies look like angels, but they don’t act like angels.” Returning from Mass, the mother packed the childrens lunches and sent them off with the sheep.

This day Lucia and her little cousins met as usual at the small bog, beyond the village, called the Barreiro, on the way to Gouveia, whence they proceeded to the Cova da Ira. Because the ground was rocky and filled with so much brush, they crossed it very slowly. It was almost noon before they reached their chosen spot. When they heard the church bells summoning the people to the last Mass they knew it was time for lunch. So they opened their bags and ate, as usual saving a little for later on. Their meal finished, they sped through their Rosary and then chased the sheep up the hill. Their game today would be building, making castles out of the rocks. Francisco was the mason and architect, Lucia and Jacinta gathered the stones.

While they were thus busily intent upon their building projects, a sudden bright shaft of light pierced the air. In their efforts to describe it they called it a flash of lightning*. Frightened**, they dropped their stones, looked first at each other, then at the sky which was very clear and bright without the least spot of a cloud. No breeze stirred the air, the sun was shining strong. Such perfect weather belied this flash of lightning, the forerunner of a storm. The children decided that they had better start for home before it rained. Quickly they gathered the sheep and started down the hill. Half way down, just as they were passing a tall oak tree, another shaft of light split the air. Panicky with fear, and as if led by some unknown power, they took a few steps, turned towards the right and there, standing over a foliage of a small holm oak, they saw a most beautiful lady.

“It was a Lady dressed all in white,” Lucia records, “more brilliant than the sun, shedding rays of light, clear and stronger than a crystal glass filled with the most sparkling water, pierced by the burning rays of the sun.”

“Fear not!” the Lady said, “I will not harm you.”

“Where are you from?” Lucia made bold to ask.

“I am from Heaven,” the beautiful Lady replied, gently raising Her hand towards the distant horizons.

“What do You want of me?” Lucia humbly asked.

“I come to ask you to come here for six consecutive months, on the thirteenth day, at this same hour. I will tell you later who I am and what I want. And I shall return here again a seventh time.”

“And I, am I, too, going to Heaven?” Lucia asked.

“Yes, you shall,” the Lady assured her.

“And Jacinta?”

“Yes.”

“And Francisco?”

“He too shall go, but he must say many Rosaries,” the Lady responded.

Lucia asked some more question of the Lady. Two girls who used to come to her house to learn sewing from her sisters recently died. Lucia wanted to find out about them too.

“And Maria de Rosario, daughter of Jose das Neves, is she in Heaven?”

“Yes,” the Lady replied.

“And Amelia?”

“She is still in Purgatory.”

Lucia’s eyes filled with tears. How sad, that her friend Amelia was suffering in the fires of Purgatory. Then the Lady said to the children:

“Do you want to offer yourselves to God to endure all the sufferings that He may choose to send you, as and act of reparation for the sins by which He is offended and as a supplication for the conversion of sinners?”

Promptly Lucia responded for all three, “Yes, we want to.”

“Then you are going to suffer a great deal,” the Lady promised, “but the grace of God will be your comfort.”

As She pronounced these words, the Lady opened Her hands and shed upon the children a highly intense light, that was as if it were a reflection shining from them. “This light penetrated us to the heart,” Lucia reported, “and its very recesses, and allowed us to see ourselves in God, Who was that light, more clearly than we see ourselves in a mirror. Then we were moved by an inward impulse, also communicated to us, to fall on our knees, while we repeated to ourselves:

“O Most Holy Trinity, I adore Thee; my God, my God, I love Thee in the Most Blessed Sacrament.”

Again the Lady spoke to them, “Say the Rosary every day to bring peace to the world and the end of the war.”

“She began then to elevate Herself serenely,” Lucia said, “going in the direction of the East until She disappeared in the immensity of space, still surrounded by a most brilliant light that seemed to open a path for Her through the myriad galaxies of stars.”

The children stood riveted to the spot for some time, their eyes fastened on the skies where they last saw the Lady. Gradually they returned to themselves, and looking around for the sheep, they found them grazing upon the sparse grass under the shade of the holm oaks. They noticed that the vegetables in the garden were not even touched. They were ever so happy, and grateful to the Lady for Her caring for the sheep, and thereby sparing them punishment at home; but their joy was supreme and beyond all description for having seen the exquisitely beautiful Mother of God. She was so wonderful, so lovely! They felt the same joy now as when the Angel visited them, only when the Angel came, they felt a sort of annihilation before his presence; whereas, with Our Lady, they received strength and courage. “Instead of bodily exhaustion, we felt a certain physical strength,” Lucia described her reaction. “In place of annihilation before the Divine Presence, we felt exultation and joy; in place of difficulty in speaking we felt a certain communicative enthusiasm.”

The children spent the rest of the afternoon in the fields, living over and over again the short visit of Our Lady. They were so supremely happy, though mixed with deep concern. Our Lady seemed unhappy over something and they tried to fathom the meaning of Her every word. Meanwhile, Francisco pressed the girls with questions to learn everything She had said. They told him everything. When they told him that Our lady promised that he would go to Heaven, bursting with joy, he folded his hands in front of his breast and exclaimed aloud, “O, My Lady, I will say all the Rosaries You want!”

Lucia thought it best for them to keep the vision secret. She was old enough to realize how incredulous people are about such things, and more, she had had previous and bitter experience when the girls who first saw the Angel spread the news through the neighborhood. Francisco and Jacinta both agreed to Lucia’s suggestion. Lucia, however doubted Jacinta’s ability to keep it secret , for the little girl’s face shone with joy and she would say so often, “Ai que Senhora tao bonita! Oh, such a beautiful Lady!”

“I just know you are going to tell it to everyone,” Lucia warned Jacinta.

“Honest, I will not tell anyone,: Jacinta assured her.

“You won’t breathe a word, even to your mother?”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“We’ll keep it a secret,” they all agreed.

But how could little Jacinta keep it a secret, when she had seen such a beautiful Lady?...

Part 3b to follow.
________________________________________________________________

* “it was not really lightning but the reflection of a light which approached little by little. In this light, we could see Our Lady only when She was above the holm oak. We could not explain the fact to ourselves and to avoid questioning was the reason that we sometimes said that we saw Our Lady coming, sometimes not. When we said that we saw Her coming, we were speaking of this light that we saw approaching which was afterward the Lady Herself. When we said we had not seen it come, we meant that we saw the Blessed Virgin only when She was nearer the hom oak.” (Memoirs of Lucia).

**”The fear which we experienced did not properly have to do with the Blessed Virgin but rather with the storm which we believed imminent and which we wished to escape. The apparition of Our Lady inspired neither fear nor dread but only surprise.” (Memoirs of Lucia).

***

The following video, “The Miracle of Our Lady of Fatima - Part 02 of 10 /Complete movie in English/”, courtesy of You Tube.

###

Fatima: The True Story / Part 2

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

—Author Unknown

***

As I’ve penned in the first post of Fatima: The True Story, I find myself wanting to retreat to a quieter place away from the mayhem.


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 again ask that the Holy Spirit touches the hearts of many and delivers 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 have been personally checked by her.

***

The eldest of the *three children to whom Our Lady was to appear at Fatima was Lucia de Jesus dos Santos. Born on March 28, 1907, she was the youngest of the seven children of Senor Antonio dos Santos and his wife, Maria Rosa. They lived in the hamlet of Aljustrel, which is situated as an oasis among the rocky hills of Aire, forming a part of the village of Fatima. Senhor dos Santos was a farmer whose small holdings where scattered about the hills of the vicinity. (*In photo, from left to right: Jacinta, Lucia and Francisco).

Lucia was always healthy and strong. Although her features, a rather flat nose and a heavy mouth, suggested a frown, her sweet disposition and keen mind were reflected in a pair of dark, beautiful eyes which glistened under their heavy lids, making her most attractive. She was particularly affectionate toward children and very early began to prove herself a help to mothers in minding their young ones. She was singularly gifted in holding the attention of the other children by her affection and resourcefulness. She is remembered also as being fond of dressing up. At the numerous religious festivals she was always among the most colorfully dressed of the girls. Moreover she loved these occasions for their gaity, and especially for the dancing.

Lucia’s father was like many a man of his class. He did his work, performed his religious duties, and spent his free time among his friends at the tavern, leaving the children completely in the care of his wife. And she was in every way equal to the task, even if perhaps a little strict in her discipline.

Devoutly religious, Senhora Maria Rosa was possessed of more than average common sense, and, unlike most of her neighbors, she could read. Thus she was able to instruct not only her own but her neighbors’ children in the catechism. Evenings she would read to the children from the Bible or other pious books, and sedulously she reminded them of their prayers, urging them particularly to remember the Rosary, traditionally the favorite devotion of the people of Portugal. It should not be surprising, therefore, that Lucia was able to receive her First Holy Communion at the age of six instead of ten, as the custom then dictated.

Francisco and Jancita, the other two principals, were Lucia’s first cousins, the eighth and ninth children, respectively, born of the marriage of Senhor Manuel Marot and Senhora Olimpia Jesus dos Santos. This marriage was the second for Olimpia, her first husband having died after giving her two children. Olimpia was the sister of Senhor dos Santos, Lucia’s father.

Francisco, their youngest boy, was born June 11, 1908. He grew to be a fine looking lad, in disposition much like his father, Ti Marto, as the parent was usually called. Lucia recalls particularly how calm and condescending Francisco was in contrast to the whimsical and light-hearted Jacinta. Though he loved to play games, it mattered little to him whether he won or lost. In fact, there were times when Lucia shunned his company because his apparent lack of temperament irritated her. At these times she would exert her will over him making him sit still by himself for a period of time; then feeling sorry for him she would bring him into the game they might be playing, and Francisco would remain apparently unaffected by the treatment.

“Yet for all this,” his father recalls, “he was sometimes wider and more active than his sister Jacinta. He could lose his patience and fuss like a young calf. He was absolutely fearless. He could go anywhere in the dark. He would play with lizards, and when he found a small snake he made it coil itself around his staff and he filled the holes in the rocks with ewe’s milk for the sankes to drink…”

Ti Marto, though illiterate, was a man of real wisdom and prudence. He had a remarkable sense of values, and he must have instilled into the mind and heart of Francisco a deep appreciation of the natural beauties of life. Young as the boy was, he loved to contemplate the world around him: the vastness of the skies, the wonder of the stars, and the myriad beauties of nature at sunrise and sunset. Francisco loved music too. He used to carry a reed flute with which he would accompany the singing and dancing of his companions, his sister Jacinta and his cousin Lucia.

Jacinta, born March 11, 1910, was nearly two years younger than her brother. She resembled Francisco in features, but differed sharply in temperament. Her round face was smooth-skinned, and she had bright, clear eyes and a small mouth with thin lips, but a somewhat chubby chin. She was well proportioned, but not as robust as Francisco. A quiet, untroublesome infant, she grew to be a lovable child, though not without an early tendency to selfishness. She too easily to a sense of piety, but was equally given to play. In fact, it seems to have been her idea sometime before the apparitions to reduce their daily Rosary to a repetition of only the first two worlds of the Hail Mary, a practice, which, of course, they hastily abandoned in due time.

Jacinta had a strong devotion to Lucia, and when it became the latter’s chore to take the sheep to the hills to graze, Jacinta pestered her mother until she was given a few sheep of her own so that she could accompany her cousin to the hills. Each morning before sunrise Senhora Olimpia would awaken Francisco and Jacinta. They would bless themselves as they got up and say a little prayer. Their mother, having prepared breakfast, usually a bowl of soup and some bread, would go to the barn to release the sheep, and then returning to the house, would prepare a lunch with whatever was at hand, probably bread with olives, codfish or sardines. By the time she had finished this, the children were ready to go to meet Lucia with her flock of sheep. Before the apparitions they used to meet with other children, but after the apparitions of the Angel these three stayed more or less by themselves.

Lucia would select the place for the day’s pasturing. Usually they went to the hill country, where Senhor dos Santos owned some property. Sometimes she took them out to the open country around Fatima. A favorite place in the summer, however, was the Cabeco, a grassy hill that also offered the shade of trees – olive, pine, and holm oak – as well as the Cave. It was much closer to home than the other pasturelands, and the children found it best for playing.

One of Lucia’s earlier companions recalls, “Lucia was a lot of fun and we loved to be with her because she was always so pleasant. We did whatever she told us to do. She was very wise, and she could sing and dance very well; and with her we could spend our whole day singing and dancing…”

And Lucia remembers, even today, all their beautiful, simple songs. When they heard the sound of the church bells, or when the height of the sun told them it was noon, they stopped their playing and dancing to recite the Angelus. After eating their lunch, they would say their Rosary and then go on with their playing. They would return home in the evening in time for supper, and, after their night prayers, they would go to bed.

***

The following video, Fatima Portugal 1917, courtesy of You Tube.



***

Part 3 to follow.

###

Fatima: The True Story / Part lb

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

—Author Unknown

***

As I’ve penned in the first post of Fatima: The True Story, I find myself wanting to retreat to a quieter place away from the mayhem.

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

Again, as I post these excerpts, I ask that the Holy Spirit touches the hearts of many 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.

***

...Children being children, the special fervor did wear off and it was not long before they went back to their daily round of playing, singing and dancing. One notable effect remained, however, which seemed to fit in with the events that followed. The three little cousins were content to spend all their time together.

When the summer months came, bringing with them the scorching heat of the sun, the children were awakened each dawn to take their sheep out to the fields while the grass was still covered with the morning’s dew. When the heat burned off the dew, and the sheep’s hunger was dulled, the children led them back again to the barn to stay there until evening when they would again to be led out to the fields. Meanwhile, the three cousins spent their days playing their games under the inviting shade of the fig trees. When they were tired, they relaxed at the well, under the lacy foliage of the olive and almond trees. It was while resting there, during one early afternoon, that the Angel visited them again. Lucia tells us what happened:

“What are you doing?” The Angel suddenly appeared at their side.

“Pray! Pray a great deal! The hearts of Jesus and Mary have designs of mercy for you! Offer unceasingly to the Most High prayers and sacrifices!”

“But how are we to sacrifice ourselves?” Lucia asked.

“Offer up everything within your power as a sacrifice to the Lord in an act of reparation for the sins by which He is offended; and of supplication for the conversion of sinners. Thus invoke peace upon your country. I am her Guardian Angel; the Angel of Portugal. Above all, accept and bear with submission the sufferings that the Lord may send you.”

Only Lucia and Jacinta heard the Angel’s words. Francisco only saw the Angel and knew that he was speaking to the girls. Burning with curiosity, he wanted to learn what was said.

“Jacinta, tell me what the Angel said!”

“I will tell you tomorrow, Francisco. I am not able to speak now.” The little girl go so overwhelmed that she lacked the strength to speak.

The next day, as soon as he got up, Francisco asked Jacinta, “Could you sleep last night? I was thinking of the Angel all night long trying to guess what he said to you.”

Lucia told him all the Angel said. The little lad could not grasp the meaning of the words of the Angel and kept interrupting, “What is the Most High? What does he mean, “The hearts of Jesus and Mary are attentive to the voice of your supplication?”

“When he learned the answers, he became thoughtful,” Lucia relates, “and then again started asking other questions. But my spirit was not yet entirely free. I told him to wait for the next day.

“Satisfied, he waited for a while, but he did not miss the first opportunity to ask new questions. It made Jacinta raise her voice, saying, “Take care! We must not speak much about these matters!”

“Every time we spoke of the Angel,” says Lucia, “I did not know what came over us. Jacinta used to say, ‘I don’t know what happens to me, but I cannot speak, play or sing; I don’t have the strength for the smallest thing,’ and Francisco would remark, ‘Neither can I. What does it matter? The Angel is more important. Let us think about him.”

In later years, Lucia revealed: “The words of the Angel were like a light that made us realize who God was, how He loved us and wanted to be loved; the value of sacrifice, to what degree it pleased Him, and how it was rewarded with the conversion of sinners. From that moment, we began to offer to the Lord everything that mortified us…repeating the prayer that the Angel had taught us.”

Autumn drew near. The children set out with the sheep to the hills for the whole day. They were due for another surprise visit.

We wandered from Pregueira to Lapa, going around the hill by the side of Aljustrel and Casa Velha,” Lucia continued her report. “We said the Rosary there an the prayer that the Angel had taught us in the first apparition. Then the Angel appeared to us for the third time. He was holding a chalice in his hand. A Host was over it, from which fell some drops of Blood into the chalice. Leaving the chalice and Host suspended in mid-air, he prostrated himself on the ground, repeating this prayer three times:

“Most Holy Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Ghost, I adore Thee profoundly, and I offer Thee the Most Precious Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of the same Son, Jesus Christ, present in the Tabernacles of the world, in reparation for all sacrileges, outrages and indifferences by which He Himself is offended. And by the infinite merits of His Most Sacred Heart and through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I beg of Thee the conversion of poor sinners.

The Angel then arose, and holding the chalice and the Host again, he gave the Host to Lucia, and the contents of the chalice of Jacinta and Francisco, while he said:

“Take and drink the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, horribly outraged by ungrateful men. Make reparation for their crimes and console your God.”

He prostrated himself again on the ground and again repeated with the children three times the prayer: “Most Holy Trinity…" Then he disappeared.

The full meaning of this vision unfolded slowly and astonishingly to their young minds. Their whole being became absorbed by a new, strange, yet happy feeling of the inward presence of God. They kept silence for some time. Francisco was the first to break it. He had not heard the Angel speak and was anxious to learn everything.

“Lucia,” he said, “I know that the Angel gave you Holy Communion. But what did he give Jacinta and me?”

“The same; it was Holy Communion,” Jacinta replied at once, overflowing with joy, :did you not see that it was the Blood that dropped from the Host?”

“I felt that God was within me," he agreed, “but did not know how."

The tree of them remained kneeling on the ground for a long while, repeating over and over again the inspired, heart-stirring prayer the Angel had taught them.

***

To be continued.

###

One Singular Sensation...

with every move that he makes...

[or so he thinks...]

just a bit of comedy relief before I resume posting Fatima's true story...

ahum, anyway, ready Maestro?

5-6-7-8: