Last month I had the joy of being able to return to Egypt. Many had told me: “Don’t go, it’s dangerous!” But where is the danger these days? Isn’t there just as much danger in Paris, Nice, or Brussels, where we had bombings lately? The real danger is not being where God calls us!
In her March 2nd message, Mary told us twice that she comes to help us. That reminds me of what I learned while visiting a small church hidden in the narrow, crowded streets, in the oldest part of Cairo. That Church is where one of the three icons, of the Blessed Virgin Mary, painted by the Apostle Luke, is kept. This icon of the Blessed Mother is called “El Ezbaweya”. (Two other paintings of St. Luke are located in Rome, and Jerusalem.)
This is a miraculous icon. Many Christians and non-Christians come here to honor the Mother of God who is shown with the child Jesus. Some spend hours in front of her, seated on the floor, mumbling a mix of praise and supplications. Among the many miracles that have occurred in this place, one of them, narrated by the Coptic priest in charge of this shrine, really touched me.
In the 1940s, during World War II, a woman of Greek nationality came to Cairo, and for 12 days she stood at the feet of the Blessed Virgin, tearfully praying and pleading with her. Every day, she would make a new offering. What happened was that her son had joined the British army and was then sent to Lebanon. He sent letters to his mother regularly, but in his latest letter he had told her that he was sick. After that…she received not one word from him! Complete silence! She was not receiving any more news, so that this poor mother was afraid that something bad had happened to her son, perhaps even that he had died. So she had come from very far to implore the assistance of El Ezbaweya, begging her to look after her son over there in Lebanon, to keep him healthy and bring him back.
One day, the priest found her very early in the morning standing in front of the door of the Church, radiant with joy. She told him that she had received a letter from her son. He thanked his mother saying: “Mom, thank you for the lady you sent me! I was very sick, but this lady came to me and she brought me some medicine. She told me: ‘Your mother sent me to you!’ The medication she brought me is what healed me. I took it and I am healed!’ I asked her to tell me her name, and she said: ‘My name is El Ezbaweya’.” (Her son did not know this name at all).
The priest concluded: “The Lady El Ezbaweya has replied to the prayers, the tears and the praises of a mother!”
Sister Emmanuel