"In the other Eucharistic encounter I made you see what the Eucharist is. Today I will show you another Eucharistic truth. If the Eucharist is the Heart of God, Mary is the tabernacle of that Heart.
Look at my Mother, eternal living tabernacle in which the Bread that comes from Heaven descends. Whoever wants to find Me, but to find Me with the fullness of gifts, must seek My Majesty and Power, My Divinity, in the sweetness, in the purity, in the charity of Mary. It is she who from her heart makes the tabernacle for the heart of her God and yours.
The Body of the Lord has become body in Mary's womb, and it is my Mother who with her smile offers it to you as if she were offering you her most beloved Child laid in the cradle of her most pure maternal heart. It is Mary's joy, in Heaven, to give you her Creature and to give you her Lord. With the Son she gives you her spotless heart, a heart that has loved and suffered in infinite measure.
It is a widespread opinion that my Mother suffered only morally. No. The Mother of mortals has known every kind of pain. Not because she deserved it. She was immaculate and the painful inheritance of Adam was not in Her. But because, being Coredemptrix and Mother of the whole human race, she had to consummate the sacrifice to the end and in every way. Therefore, as a woman, She suffered the inevitable sufferings of a woman who conceives a creature, She suffered the fatigue of flesh heavy with My weight, She suffered in giving birth to Me, She suffered in the hasty flight, She suffered lack of food, She suffered heat, ice, thirst, hunger, poverty, fatigue. Why should She not have suffered if I, the Son of God, submitted Myself to the sufferings proper to humanity?
To be saints does not mean to be exempt from the miseries of matter. To be redeemers, then, means to be particularly subject to the miseries of the flesh, which has a painful sensibility. Holiness and redemption are explained and achieved in all ways, even with toothaches, for example. It is enough that from the carnal miseries the creature makes a weapon of merit and not of sin.
Mary and I have made of the miseries of human nature many coins of redemption for you. Even now my Mother suffers when She sees you so deaf to grace, rebellious to Me. Holiness, I repeat, does not mean exclusion of pain, but rather' it means imposition of pain.
So thank Mary, who gives you to Me with a motherly smile, for all the pain that being My Mother has brought her. You never think of saying thank you to Mary in whose womb I became flesh! That flesh that I now give you to nourish you for eternal life.
Enough. Behold and adore Me radiant in the Eucharist, on the living throne which is the womb of Mary, My most pure Mother and yours."
Now I explain. On Sunday, no, on Friday, it seemed to me that I saw Jesus at my bedside, I told you. But I did nothing. On Sunday 20, before you came, while you were there and after you came for Communion, I seemed to see Jesus, no longer at my bedside, but at the back, and He gave me the host. But He did not have the ciborium in His hand: He had His Heart and He gave me His Heart as a host, taking it from His breast. It was of infinite majesty and sweetness. Later, he explained to me the meaning of the vision. He must have found it in the notebook dated June 20.
This morning I see Our Lady. She seems seated, smiling with love, but melancholy. She has the dark mantle that descends from her head, open over the dark dress, also dark, it looks brown. At the waist she has a dark belt. It looks like three shades of brown. On her head, under the cloak, she must have a white veil because I can see a slight edge.
In the middle of his chest radiates a very large and beautiful Host. And - what constitutes the admirable thing of the vision - it seems that through the Species (which here appear as a very beautiful quartz: they are bread, but they look like shining crystal) appears a very beautiful child. The Child God made flesh.
The Virgin, who has her arms open to keep her mantle open, looks at me and then bends her face and gaze adoringly on the Host that sparkles on her breast. On her breast, not on the breast. It is as if, by mystical X-rays, I could see into Mary's chest, or rather it is as if the X-rays made appear outside what is inside Mary. As if it were from a non-opaque body. I do not know how to explain it.
Anyway, I see this and Jesus explains it to me. Our Lady does not speak. She only smiles. But her smile is as eloquent as a thousand words and even more.
How I would like to know how to paint in order to make a copy and show it to you, and above all I would like to show you the different luminosities. There are three: one, of a gentle softness, constituted by the body of Mary, is the external and protective envelope of the second, radiant and lively luminosity constituted by the great Host. A victorious light, I would say, to use a human word, that makes the inner envelope of the divine Jewel that shines like liquid fire of a beauty that cannot be described and that is, in its infinite beauty, infinitely sweet, and it is the little Jesus who smiles with all his tender and innocent flesh for his nature of God and for his infantile age.
It is a radiance, this third one, under the veils of the other two radiances, that there is no paragon to describe it. It is necessary to think of the sun, of the moon, of the stars, to take the different lights of all the stars, to make a single vortex of light that is molten gold, molten diamond, and this gives a pale likeness of what my heart sees in this blessed hour.What will Paradise be enveloped by that light?
In the same way, there is no apt paragon to explain the sweetness of Mary's smile. Real, holy, chaste, loving, melancholic, inviting, comfortable... are words that say one and should say a thousand to approach what that virginal, maternal, celestial smile is.
MARIA VALTORTA. NOTEBOOKS OF 1943