After 53 days, Mother resumes her manifestations with this vision, and tells me to write it in this book. I was overcome with joy. To see Mary, in fact, is to possess Joy.
Thus, I see the little garden of Nazareth. Mary is spinning in the shade of a very stupid apple tree full of fruits, which are already beginning to turn red and which look, with their roundness and pink color, like the cheeks of a child.
However, Maria is by no means that color. She has lost the beautiful coloring that, in Hebron, enlivened her face. In the ivory pallor of her face, only her lips trace a pale coral curve. Under the half-closed eyelids there are two dark shadows and the rims of the eyes are swollen as in those who have wept. I do not see the eyes,
for she is with her head rather bent down, intent on her work and, above all, on a thought of her own, which must afflict her, for I hear her sigh as if she had a sorrow in her heart.
She is all dressed in white, in white linen; it is very hot, although the freshness of the flowers, still intact, tells me that it is morning. Her head is uncovered, and the sun, which plays with the apple tree's fronds, moved by a very light wind, and
a very light wind, and filters with needles of light until it touches the dark earth of the flowerbeds, deposits on her blond head little rings of light in which the hair seems coppery gold.
No noise comes from the house, nor from nearby places. We only hear the murmur of the little watering can that goes to a basin at the back of the orchard.
Maria shudders when she hears a resolute knock on the door of the house. She puts down her distaff and spindle and gets up to open the door. Although her dress is loose and ample, it does not completely hide the roundness of her pelvis.
She finds herself facing Joseph. Mary pales, even at the lips. Now her face looks like a wafer because of how pale it is. Mary looks with eyes that scrutinize sadly; Joseph, with eyes that seem to plead. They remain silent, looking at each other. Mary breaks the silence:
-At this hour, Joseph, do you need something? What do you want to tell me? Come in.
Joseph enters and closes the door. He is still silent.
- Speak, Joseph. What do you want from me?
- Your forgiveness - Joseph bends as if he wanted to kneel down. But Mary, always so reserved in touching him, grabs him resolutely by the shoulders and prevents him.
The color comes and goes from Mary's face, sometimes completely red, sometimes snowy as before.
-My forgiveness? I have nothing to forgive you for, Joseph. I must thank you once again for everything you have done in here, in my absence, and for the love you have for me.
José looks at her. I see two thick drops form in the hollow of his deep-set eyes, linger as if on the rim of a bowl, then slide down his cheeks and into his beard.
- Forgive me, Maria. I have mistrusted you. Now I see. I am unworthy to possess such a great treasure. I have failed in charity, I have accused you in my heart, I have accused you unjustly because I had not asked you the truth. I have failed against the law of God by not loving you as I would have loved myself.....
-Oh, no, you have not sinned!
- Yes, Mary. If I had been accused of such a crime, I would have defended myself. You... I would not allow you to defend yourself, because I was already going to make decisions without asking you first. I have offended you by offending you with a suspicion. The mere fact of suspicion is already an offense, Maria. He who suspects does not know. I have not known you as I should have. But for the pain I have suffered... three days of torture... forgive me, Maria.
- I have nothing to forgive you for. What's more, I ask your forgiveness for the pain I caused you.
-Oh, what a pain it was! What a pain! Look, this morning I was told that my temples are gray and my face is wrinkled. These days have meant more than ten years of life! But, Mary, why have you been so humble as to be jealous of me, your husband, your glory, and allow me to suspect you?
Joseph is not on his knees, but so bent that it is as if he were. Mary puts her hand on his head, and smiles.
It looks as if she absolves him. She says:
- If I had not been perfect, I would not have deserved to conceive the Expected One, who comes to cancel the guilt of pride that has destroyed man. And I have done nothing but obey.... God asked me for this obedience... It cost me a lot, for your sake, because of the pain it would cause you... but I had to obey. I am the handmaid of God, and servants do not dispute the orders they receive; they carry them out, Joseph, even if they provoke tears of blood.
Mary, as she says this, weeps silently, so silently that Joseph, crouching as he is, does not notice it until a tear falls to the ground. Then he raises his head and - this is the first time I have ever seen him make this gesture - squeezes Maria's hands between his own, dark and strong, and kisses the tips of her pink, slender fingers, those fingers that protrude from the ring of her hands like peach buds.
- Now it will be necessary to take the necessary measures so that.... - Joseph does not continue; he looks at Mary's body, and she becomes like purple, and sits up suddenly to turn her forms away from the gaze that observes her - We will have to act quickly. I will come here... We'll perform the wedding ceremony... Next week. Is that okay with you?
- Everything you do is right, José. You're the head of the house; I'm your servant.
- No. I am your servant. I am the devoted servant of my Lord who grows in your bosom. Blessed art thou among all the women of Israel. This evening I will notify the relatives. And then... while I am already here, we will devote ourselves to prepare everything to receive... Oh..,
How can I receive God in my house, God in my arms? I shall die for joy... I shall never dare to touch him! ....
- You can, like me, by the grace of God.
- But you are you. I am a poor man, the poorest of God's children! ....
- Jesus comes for us, the poor, to make us rich in God; he comes to both of us because we are the poorest and we recognize that we are poor. Exult, Joseph. The line of David has its long-awaited King, and our house will be more splendid than Solomon's palace, for here will be Heaven, and we will share with God the secret of peace that men will know later. He will grow up between the two of us. Our arms will serve as a cradle for the Redeemer during his growth, and our labors will provide him with bread..... O Joseph! We shall hear God's voice calling us "Father and Mother!" Oh! ....
Mary weeps for joy; such a happy weeping...! And Joseph, kneeling now, at her feet, weeps, with his head almost hidden in Mary's ample dress that falls, forming folds, on the poor tiles of the cramped room.
The vision ends at this moment.
Maria says:
- Let no one misinterpret my pallor. It did not come from human fear. Humanly I could only hope for stoning. But I was not afraid for that. I suffered for Joseph's pain. And, as for the thought of his accusing me, I was not troubled
I was not disturbed for my sake either; the only thing that upset me was that he, by insisting on accusing me, might have been uncharitable. When I saw him, for this reason, my blood went all to my heart; it was the moment when a just man, by offending Charity, could have
offend Justice. And the fact that a just man had committed a fault - he, who never committed it - would have caused me supreme pain.
If I had not been humble to the extreme limit - as I said to Joseph - I would not have deserved to carry in me the One who, in order to erase pride in the race, being God, annihilated Himself to the humiliation of being man.
I have shown you this scene, which no Gospel has recorded, because I want to draw the attention of men, too much lost, to the essential conditions for pleasing God and for receiving His continual presence in their hearts.
Faith. Joseph believed blindly in the words of the heavenly envoy. He asked for nothing else but to believe, for he had the sincere conviction that God was good and that the Lord would not give him the pain of being a man betrayed, let down by his neighbor, a man to be mocked by his neighbor, for he hoped in the Lord. He asked nothing else but to believe in me, for, honest as he was, it was only with pain that he could think that another would not be honest. He lived the Law, and the Law says: 'Love thy neighbor as thyself." Our love for ourselves is so great that we think we are perfect even when we are not; and why, then, are we going to unlove our neighbor as ourselves?
why, then, should we unlove our neighbor, thinking him imperfect?
Absolute charity. Charity that knows how to forgive, that wants to forgive: to forgive beforehand, excusing in one's own heart the faults of one's neighbor; to forgive at the moment, granting all the mitigating factors to the guilty party.
Humility as absolute as charity. To know how to recognize that a fault has been committed even at the mere thought, and not to have that pride, which is more harmful than the antecedent guilt, of not wanting to say: "I have made a mistake". Except God, everyone makes mistakes
Who can say: "I never make mistakes"? And that even more difficult humility of knowing how to keep silent about the wonders of God in us - when giving him glory does not require proclaiming them - so that our neighbor, who does not have those special gifts from God, does not feel lesser. Oh, if God wills, if he wills, he will manifest himself in his servant! Elizabeth "saw" me as I was when the time came, and my husband knew what I really was when it was time for him to know.
Let it be the Lord's business to proclaim you His servants. He is in a loving haste to do so, because every creature raised to a special mission is a new glory to be added to His already infinite glory, because it is a testimony of what man is in the state in which God wanted him: a subordinate perfection that reflects its Author. Remain in the shadow and in silence, O you who are the favorites of Grace, so that you may hear the only words of "life" that exist, so that you may deserve to have upon you and in you the Sun that shines eternally!
O most blessed Light who art God, who art the joy of thy servants, shine upon these thy servants, and so let them exult in their humility, praising thee, thee alone, who scatterest the proud and instead elevate to the splendors of thy Kingdom the humble who love thee.