Jesus as a child

32.1 I see a couple of people departing from a very modest house. A very young mother comes down an outside staircase holding in her arms a child wrapped in a white cloth.

I recognise our Mother. She is always the same: pale and blonde, agile and so kind in Her behaviour. She is dressed in white, with a pale blue mantle and a white veil on Her head. She is carrying Her Child so carefully.

Joseph is waiting for Her at the foot of the steps with a little grey donkey. Joseph is dressed entirely in light brown: both his tunic and his mantle are the same colour. He looks at Mary and smiles at Her. When Mary arrives near the little donkey, Joseph places the animal’s bridle on his left arm, he takes for a moment the Child, Who is sleeping peacefully, and thus allows Mary to sit more comfortably on the donkey’s saddle. He then hands Jesus back to Her and they set off.

Joseph is walking beside Mary, holding the bridle all the time and ensuring that the donkey goes straight ahead without stumbling. Mary is holding Jesus in Her lap, and lest He might feel cold, She spreads the edge of Her mantle over Him. Joseph and Mary speak very little but they often smile at each other.

The road, which is not a model road, winds along a country made barren by the season of the year. Only a few other travellers meet them on the road or overtake them.

• Holy Family
• Jesus as a child
• Joseph of Jacob (Saint Joseph)
• The Virgin Mary

32.2 Then I see some houses and the walls around a town. They go in through a gate and start walking on the ground which is all broken up, and very irregular. Progress is now much more difficult, both because the traffic causes the donkey to stop very often and because the holes, where stones are missing, make the poor animal jerk continuously and thus Mary and the Child are also disturbed.

The road is not flat. It is uphill, although very slightly. It is a narrow road running between high houses with small narrow low doors and only a few windows on the road. High above, the sky can be seen peeping with many thin blue strips between the houses, or rather between the terraces. Down in the street there are many people and much shouting. They meet other people on foot or riding donkeys or leading loaded donkeys and a crowd following a cumbersome camel caravan. At a certain moment, a patrol of Roman legionaries passes by with a great noise of hooves and arms and they disappear beyond an arch built across a narrow stony road.

Joseph turns left along a wider and more pleasant road. I can see the embattled town walls, with which I am already familiar, at the end of the street.

Mary dismounts from the little donkey near a gate where there is a kind of stall for other donkeys. I say «stall» because it is a kind of shed, or better still, a kind of shed spread with straw; there are also some poles with rings to which the animals are tied.

Joseph gives some coins to a little man who has gone up to him and with them he buys some hay and he draws a pail of water from a rustic well in the corner. He then feeds the donkey. He joins Mary and they both enter the enclosure of the Temple.

At first they turn their steps towards an arcade where the merchants are, to whom Jesus later will give a good lashing: the vendors of lambs and doves and the money-changers. Joseph buys two little white pigeons. He does not change any money: he obviously has what is required.

They then make for a side door, with eight steps, as all the doors seem to have, because the centre of the Temple is raised above the surrounding ground. The door opens into a great hall like the doors of our houses in towns, to give you an idea, only this one is larger and more ornate. In the hall there are two kinds of altars on the right and on the left, that is two rectangular constructions, the purpose of which I do not understand at first. They are like low basins, because the internal part is lower than the external rim, which is a few centimetres higher.

A priest approaches them, I do not know whether he was called by Joseph or whether he did so of his own accord. Mary offers Her two little pigeons and since I know their fate, I turn my eyes elsewhere. I look at the decorations of the very heavy portal, of the ceiling and of the hall. But I get the impression, by a side glance, that the priest sprays Mary with some water. It must be water, because I do not see any stains on Her dress. Then Mary, Who had given the priest a handful of coins together with the two pigeons (I had forgotten to mention that), goes into the real Temple, in the company of the priest.

I am watching everything. It is a most ornate place. Sculptured angels’ heads, palms and decorations adorn the columns, the walls and the ceiling. Light comes in through strange long narrow windows, obviously without panes, cut diagonally compared to the walls. I suppose the idea is to keep the rain out.

32.4 Mary moves forward to a certain point. She then stops. A few metres from Her, there are more steps on top of which there is a kind of altar, beyond which there is another construction.

I now realise that I thought I was in the Temple, instead I was in the part surrounding the real Temple, that is the Holy, beyond which no one can proceed, apparently, except the priests. What I therefore thought was the Temple, is but an enclosed vestibule, which on three sides encircles the Temple, in which the Tabernacle is enclosed. I do not know whether I have made myself understood. But I am neither an architect nor an engineer.

Mary offers the Child, Who has woken up and is turning His innocent eyes towards the priest, with the astonished look of infants a few days old. The priest takes Him in his arms and raises Him, with arms fully stretched out, towards the Temple, standing against the kind of altar placed on top of the steps. The rite is over. The Child is handed back to His Mother and the priest goes away.

• Holy Family
• Jesus as a child
• Jewish purification - Presentation of a newborn child at the Temple
• Joseph of Jacob (Saint Joseph)
• The Virgin Mary

There is a group of onlookers. Amongst them a little old man, bent with age and limping, makes his way leaning on a stick. He must be very old, I would say over eighty. He goes near Mary and asks Her to give him the Child for one moment. Mary satisfies him, smiling.

Simeon, whom I always thought belonged to the sacerdotal class, and is instead a simple believer, at least according to his garments, takes the Child and kisses Him. Jesus smiles at him with the typical smile of sucklings. He seems to watch him inquisitively, because the old man is crying and laughing at the same time and his tears form a sparkling embroidery running along his wrinkles and beading his long white beard, towards which Jesus stretches His little hands. He is Jesus, but still a child, and whatever moves in front of Him, draws His attention so that He wants to get hold of it to see what it is. Mary and Joseph smile and so do all the others who praise the beauty of the Child.

I hear the words[1] of the holy old man and I see the astonished gaze of Joseph, the deeply moved look of Mary as well as the glances of the little crowd, partly surprised and moved, partly laughing at the words of the old man. Amongst the latter there are some bearded and conceited members of the Sanhedrin, who shake their heads giving Simeon an ironic pitying look. They must think he is mad due to his old age.

32.6 Mary’s smile fades into paleness when Simeon mentions sorrow. Although She knows, that word pierces Her soul. She goes closer to Joseph, to be comforted, She presses Her Child to Her breast passionately and like a thirsty soul, She takes in the words of Anna of Phanuel, who being a woman, has mercy on Her suffering and promises Her that the Eternal Father will soothe the hour of sorrow with a supernatural strength. «Woman, He Who gave a Saviour to His people, will not lack the power to send His angel to console Your tears. The great women of Israel never lacked the help of the Lord and You are far greater than Judith and Jael. Our God will give You a heart of the most pure gold to withstand the storm of sorrow, so that You will be the greatest woman in Creation: the Mother. And You, Child, remember me in the hour of Your mission.»

And the vision ends here.

• Anne de Phanuël (mistress of the Virgin Mary in the Temple)
• Jesus as a child
• Joseph of Jacob (Saint Joseph)
• Suffering and pain of the Virgin Mary
• Symeon (Jerusalem prophet)
• The Virgin Mary

32.7 Jesus says:

«Two teachings, applicable to everybody, derive from the description given by you.

The former: truth is not revealed to a priest engrossed in rites, but absent with his spirit, it is instead revealed to a simple believer.

The priest, always in contact with Divinity, devoted to what concerns God and to everything that is above the flesh, should have realised at once who the Child was Who was being offered that morning in the Temple. But it was necessary for him to have a living spirit, in order to realise it. A mere robe covering a drowsy spirit, if not a dead spirit, was not sufficient.

The Spirit of God can thunder if It wants, and rouse like a thunderbolt and shake like an earthquake the dullest spirit. It can. But generally, as It is an orderly Spirit, as God is Order in each Person and way of acting, It inspires and speaks, not where there is sufficient merit to deserve its effusion — in which case Its effusions would be most rare and not even you would know their light — but where It sees the ‘goodwill’ to deserve such effusion.

How is such will exerted? With a life devoted, as far as possible, entirely to God: in faith, obedience, purity, charity, generosity and in prayer. Not in practices: in prayer. There is less difference between night and day than there is between practices and prayer. The latter is communion of the spirit with God, from which you emerge with fresh strength and a decision to belong more and more to God. The former are common habit exerted for various purposes, which are always selfish, and they leave you exactly as you were, on the contrary, they aggravate your burden with the faults of falsehood and sluggishness.

32.8 Simeon had such goodwill. He had not been spared troubles and trials in his life. But he had not lost his goodwill. Age and misfortunes had not impaired or shaken his faith in the Lord and in His promises, neither did his goodwill to be more and more worthy of God tire or falter. And God sent Him the ray of the Spirit to guide him to the Temple, that he might see the Light that had come to the world, before his eyes of a faithful servant closed to the light of the sun, awaiting to be reopened to the Sun of God glowing in the Heavens, which I had reopened when I ascended after my Martyrdom.

‘Prompted by the Holy Spirit’ says the Gospel. Oh! If men only knew what a perfect Friend the Holy Spirit is! What Guide, what Teacher! If they only loved and invoked Him, this love of the Most Holy Trinity, this Light of Light, this Fire of Fire, this Intelligence, this Wisdom! How much more they would know of what is necessary to know!

Look, Mary; listen, My children. Simeon waited all his long life before ‘seeing the Light’ and before knowing that God’s promise was fulfilled. But he never doubted. He never said to himself: ‘It is useless to persevere in hoping and praying’. He just persevered. And he deserved ‘to see’ what neither the priest nor the proud and dull members of the Sanhedrin saw: the Son of God, the Messiah, the Saviour in the flesh of a Child Who warmed him and smiled at him.

• Jesus as a child
• Symeon (Jerusalem prophet)

32.9 The other lesson: the words of Anna. She too, a prophetess, saw in Me, a new-born Baby, the Messiah. And this is quite natural, considering her prophetic prerogative. But listen to what she says to My Mother, moved by faith and charity. And use her words as a light for your souls that quiver in these days of darkness and in this Feast of Light. ‘He who gave a Saviour will not lack the power to send His angel to console Your tears’.

Consider that God gave Himself to obliterate Satan’s work in your souls. And will He not be able now to defeat the satans that torture you? Will He not be able to wipe your tears routing these satans and sending you once again the peace of His Christ? Why do you not ask Him with faith? A real overbearing faith, a faith before which the rigour of God, indignant at your many faults, may turn into a smile and He may grant you His forgiveness, which is relief, and His blessing which will be a rainbow in this world submerged in a deluge of blood which you wanted yourselves.

Remember: the Father, after punishing men with the storm, said to Himself and to His Patriarch: ‘Never again will I curse the earth because of man, because his heart contrives evil from his infancy. Never again will I strike down every living thing as I have done’. And He has been faithful to His word. He has not sent a storm again. But how many times have you said to yourselves and to God: ‘If we are spared this time, if You save us, we shall never make wars again, never again’, and after, you have always made more terrifying ones? How many times, o false men, who have no respect either for God or for your own word? And yet God would help you once again, only if the large mass of the faithful would invoke Him with faith and ardent love.

Lay your worries at the feet of God: you who are too few to counterbalance the many who keep God’s rigour alive, you who have remained devoted to Him, notwithstanding the dreadful times which are increasing from day to day. He will send you His angel, as He sent the Saviour to the world. Do not be afraid. Be united to the Cross. It has always defeated the snares of the demon, who with the cruelties of men and the sadness of life endeavours to drive to desperation, that is, to separation from God, the hearts he cannot conquer in any other way.

• Anne de Phanuël (mistress of the Virgin Mary in the Temple)
• Jesus as a child
• Seven Sorrows of the Virgin Mary

• Jesus as a child
• Locations - Bethlehem of Judea
• Summary of EMV
• The Virgin Mary

33.1 This morning I had a very gentle awakening. I was still dozing when I heard the most pure voice I have ever heard sing a slow lullaby very sweetly. The song was so slow and archaic that it sounded like a Christmas pastoral. I followed the melody and the voice, enjoying them more and more until I awoke completely. I then fully understood what was taking place, and I said: «Hail, Mary, full of Grace!» because it was Mother singing. And She raised Her voice after saying to me: «I greet you, too. Come and be happy!»

And I saw Her… in the house in Bethlehem, in Her room, intent on lulling Jesus to sleep. In the room, there were Mary’s loom and some needlework. I think Mary had stopped working to give the Child suck and change His swaddling bands, — I should say His clothes, because He was already a few months old. I would say six, or eight months at the most. Perhaps Mary was thinking of resuming Her work after the Child had fallen asleep.

It was evening. The sun was setting and there were many small golden clouds in the clear sky. Some herds were going back to their folds, browsing on the last grass of a flowery meadow and bleating with their heads uplifted.

The Child was about to fall asleep. He seemed a little restless, as if He had teething trouble, or some other minor pain of childhood.

33.2 I wrote the song on a piece of paper as best as I could, in the dim light of a very early morning, and I will now copy it.

«Little golden clouds — seem the herds of the Lord

On the meadow full of flowers — another herd is watching.

But if I had all the herds — that exist in the world,

The lambkin dearest to Me — You would always be.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

Many glittering stars — are twinkling in the sky.

May Your sweet gentle eyes — shed no more tears.

Your eyes of sapphire — are the stars of My heart.

Your tears make Me cry — oh! cry no more.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

All the sparkling angels — that are in Heaven,

Form a wreath around You, innocent Child — enraptured by Your face.

But You’re crying for Your Mummy — Mummy, Mummy, Mum.

To sing Your lullaby — lulla, lulla, lu.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

The sky will soon be pink — and dawn will soon be back,

And Mummy had no rest — to ensure You do not cry.

“Mamma” when awake You’ll call Me — “Son” I will reply.

A kiss of love and life — I’ll give you with My breast.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

You do need Your Mummy — also if You dream of Heaven.

Come, do come! Under My veil — I will make You sleep.

My breast is Your pillow — Your cradle My arms,

Do not fear, My dear — I’m here with You…

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

I’ll always be with You — You’re the life of My heart…

He is sleeping… like a flower — Resting on My breast…

He is sleeping… Be quiet! — His Father perhaps He sees,

And the sight wipes the tears — Of my sweet Jesus.

He Sleeps, sleeps, sleeps, sleeps,

And He cries no more…»

33.3 It is impossible to describe the graceful charm of the scene. It is only a mother lulling Her little one. But she is that Mother, and He is that Little One! You can therefore imagine what gracefulness, what love, what purity, what Paradise is in this little, great, sweet scene, the memory of which makes me so happy and is confirmed by the melody I continuously sing, so that you may also hear it. But I do not have the most pure silvery voice of Mary, the virginal voice of the Virgin!… And I will sound like a broken organ. It does not matter. I will do my best. What a beautiful pastoral it would be, to be sung round the Crib at Christmas!

Mary at first rocked the wooden cradle very slowly. Afterwards, when She saw that Jesus was not calming down, She took Him in Her arms, sitting near the open window, with the cradle beside Her and swinging lightly to the rhythm of the song, She repeated the lullaby twice, until Jesus closed His little eyes, He turned His head round on to His Mother’s breast and fell asleep thus, His little face resting on the cosy warmth of His Mother’s breast, one hand on Her breast near His rosy cheek, the other one relaxed on Her lap. Mary’s veil shaded Her Holy Creature.

Then Mary got up most carefully and laid Jesus in the cradle, She covered Him with small linens, She spread a veil to protect Him from flies and the fresh air, and She remained contemplating Her sleeping Treasure. She held one hand over Her heart, while the other was leaning on the cradle, ready to rock it if necessary, and She smiled happily, slightly bent while darkness and silence were falling on the earth and were invading Her little virginal room.

What peace! What beauty! I am so happy!

33.4 It is not a grand vision and it may be considered quite useless, if compared with the other visions, as it does not reveal anything special. I know. But it is a real grace to me and I consider it such, because it makes my spirit placid, pure, loving, as if it were created again by Mother’s hands. I think that you will like it as well, in that sense. We are «little children». Better thus! Jesus likes us. Let the others, who are learned and complicated, think what they like and let them say that we are «childish». We do not mind, do we?

• Jesus as a child
• Lullaby of the Virgin Mary
• The Virgin Mary

• Anne of Bethlehem
• Herod the Great
• Jesus as a child
• Joseph of Jacob (Saint Joseph)
• Locations - Anne of Bethlehem Hospital House
• Locations - Bethlehem of Judea
• Summary of EMV
• The Virgin Mary
• Three Kings (Epiphany)

34.6 Mary is sitting with the Child in Her lap and Joseph is standing near Her. But She also gets up and bows when She sees the Magi entering. She is all dressed in white. She is so beautiful in Her plain white dress which covers Her from Her neck down to Her feet, from Her shoulders to Her slender wrists. She is so beautiful with Her head crowned with Her blond plaits, Her face more rosy due to the emotion, with Her eyes smiling so sweetly while Her mouth gives a greeting: «May God be with you», that the three Magi stop for a moment, completely astonished. They then proceed and prostrate themselves at Her feet. And they ask Her to sit down.

They do not sit down, although She asks them to do so. They remain kneeling, relaxing on their heels. Behind them, also on their knees, are the three servants. They are immediately after the threshold. They have placed the three gifts they were carrying in front of the Magi, and now they are waiting.

The three Wise Men contemplate the Child, Who I think must be nine to twelve months old, He is so lively and strong. He is sitting on His Mother’s lap and smiles and prattles with a shrill voice like a little bird. He is all dressed in white like His Mother, with tiny sandals on His little feet. His dress is a very simple one: a small tunic, from which His restless feet protrude, and His plump little hands which would like to get hold of everything, and above all, a most beautiful little face in which two dark blue eyes shine, and a pretty mouth with dimples at the sides shows its first tiny teeth when it smiles. His pretty little curls are so bright and soft that they seem gold dust.

• Jesus as a child
• Joseph of Jacob (Saint Joseph)
• The Virgin Mary
• Three Kings (Epiphany)

The oldest of the Magi speaks on behalf of them all. He explains to Mary that one night the previous December, they saw a new star of an unusual brightness appear in the sky. The maps of the sky had never shown or mentioned such a star. Its name was unknown because it had no name. Born out of the bosom of God, it had flourished to tell men a blessed truth, a secret of God. But men had not paid any attention to it, because their souls were steeped in mud. They did not lift their eyes to God neither could they read the words that He writes with stars of fire in the vault of Heaven. May He be blessed forever.

They had seen it and had striven to understand its meaning. They were happy to give up the little sleep they usually granted themselves and forgetting even their food, they devoted themselves entirely to studying the zodiac. And the conjunctions of the stars, the time, the season, the calculation of the hours passed and of the astronomic combinations had told them the name and the secret of the star. Its name: «Messiah». Its secret: «The Messiah had come to our world». And they had set out to worship Him. Each of them unknown to the others. Over mountains, across deserts, along valleys and rivers, travelling by night they had come towards Palestine, because the star was moving in that direction. For each of them, from three different points on the earth, it was going in that direction. And then they met beyond the Dead Sea. God’s will had gathered them there, and they then proceeded together, understanding one another, despite the fact that each spoke his own language: by a miracle of the Eternal Father they were able to understand and speak the language of each country.

They had gone together to Jerusalem, because the Messiah was to be the King of Jerusalem, the King of the Jews. But over the sky of that city, the star had concealed itself and they felt their hearts breaking with pain and had examined themselves to understand whether they had failed to deserve God. But when their consciences reassured them, they had turned to king Herod and had asked him in which royal palace the King of the Jews was born because they had come to adore Him. And the king had gathered the chief priests and the scribes and had asked them where the Messiah might be born. And they had replied: «In Bethlehem, in Judah.»

And they had come towards Bethlehem and as soon as they left the Holy City, the star had reappeared to them, and the night before their arrival in Bethlehem its brightness had increased; the whole sky was ablaze. Then the star had stopped above this house engulfing all the light of the other stars in its ray. And they had understood that the Divine New-Born Baby was there. And now they were worshipping Him, offering their gifts, and above all, their hearts, which never cease thanking God for the grace granted to them; neither would they ever stop loving His Son Whose holy human body they had now seen. Later they intended to go back to king Herod, because he also wanted to adore Him.

34.8

«In the meantime, here is the gold which befits a king to possess, here is the incense which befits a God, and here, Mother, here is the myrrh because Your Child is a Man as well as God and He will experience the bitterness of the flesh and of human life as well as the inevitable law of death. Our souls, full as they are of love, would prefer not to utter those words and we would rather think that His flesh is also eternal as His Spirit. But, Woman, if our writings and above all our souls are right, He is Your Son, the Saviour, the Christ of God and consequently, to save the world, He will have to take upon Himself the evil of the world, of which one of the punishments is death. This myrrh is for that hour. That His holy flesh may not be subject to the rot of putrefaction, but may preserve its integrity until its resurrection. And on account of this gift, may He remember us and save His servants by allowing them to enter His Kingdom. In the meantime that we may be sanctified, will You, Mother, trust Your Little One to our love. That His heavenly blessing may descend upon us, while we kiss His feet.»

Mary, Who has overcome the fright caused by the words of the Wise Man, and has hidden with a smile the sadness of the doleful allusion, offers the Child. She lays Him in the arms of the oldest one, who kisses Him and receives His caress, and he then hands Him over to the other two.

Jesus smiles and plays with the little chains and fringes of the robes of the three Magi and He looks curiously at the open coffer, full of a yellow sparkling substance, and He smiles at the rainbow produced by the sun shining on the brilliant top of the lid of the myrrh.

• Jesus as a child
• The Virgin Mary
• Three Kings (Epiphany)