26th August 1944.
I see Anne coming out of the garden. She is leaning on the arm of a relative, who is like her. She is obviously several months pregnant and she looks tired and her fatigue is not alleviated by the sultriness, just as this present heat is exhausting me.
Although the garden is shady, it is very hot and close. The air can be cut like a soft warm dough, it is so heavy. The sun's rays descend from a merciless blue sky and there is some dust making the atmosphere slightly dull. The weather must have been dry for a long time, because where there is no irrigation, the land is literally reduced to a very fine, almost white dust. Out in the open this shade of white is slightly pink, whereas it is a dark red-brown under the trees, where the soil is damp. Likewise the ground is moist along the small flower-beds, where rows of vegetables are growing, and around the rose bushes, the jasmines and other flowers, and particularly in the front of and along the beautiful pergola, which divides the orchard in two, up to the beginning of the fields, now stripped of their crops. The grass of the meadow, which marks the boundary of the property, is parched and thin. Only at its border, where there is a hedge of wild hawthorn, already completely studded with the rubies of its little fruits, is the grass greener and thicker. There are some sheep thereabouts with a young shepherd seeking pasture and shade.
Joachim is working around the rows of vines and olive-trees. There are two men with him, helping him. Although an elderly man he is quick and works eagerly. They are opening little channels at the end of a field to give water to the dry plants, and this water makes its way gurgling between the grass and the dry land. The flow forms circles that for one moment resemble a yellowish crystal and seconds later are only rings of wet soil, around the overloaded vine branches and the olive-trees.
Along the shady pergola, under which golden bees are buzzing, greedy for the sugar of the golden grapes, Anne moves slowly towards Joachim, who hastens towards her as soon as he sees her.
« You came so far? »
« The house is as hot as an oven. »
« And you suffer from it. »
« The only suffering of this last hour is that of a pregnant woman. The natural suffering of everybody: man and beast. Don't get too warm, Joachim. »
« The water we have been hoping for, for such a long time, and that for fully three days seemed so close, has not yet come and the country is parched. We are lucky to have a spring so near and so rich in water. I have opened the channels. It is a measure of relief for the plants which have withering leaves and are covered with dust: just enough to keep them alive. If it would only rain...» Joachim, with the eagerness of all farmers, looks at the sky, while Anne, tired, cools herself with a fan that seems to be made of the dry leaf of a palm interwoven with many-coloured threads keeping it firm.
Anne's companion interrupts: « Over there, beyond the Great Hermon, fast clouds are arising. There is a northern wind. It will refreshen and perhaps bring rain. »
« The breeze has risen for three days and then it sets when the moon rises. It will do the same again. » Joachim is discouraged.
« Let us go back home. Even here one can hardly breathe, and in any case I think it is better to go back...» says Anne, who looks more olive-hued than usual, owing to a paleness which has come over her face.
« Are you in pain? »
« No. But I can feel the great peace that I experienced in the Temple when I was granted the grace, and which I felt once again when I knew I was pregnant. It is like an ecstasy, a sweet sleep of the body while the soul rejoices and calms itself in a peace that has no bodily parallel. I have loved and still do love you, Joachim, and when I entered your house and I said to myself: “I am the wife of a just man”, I had peace: and I felt the same every time your provident love took care of your Anne. But this peace is different. Understand: I think that the soul of our father Jacob was invaded by a similar peace, like the soothing given by oil that spreads and appeases, after he dreamt of the angels. And, possibly more accurately, it is like the joyful peace of the Tobiahs after Raphael appeared to them. If I absorb myself in this feeling, it grows more and more in strength while I enjoy it. It is as if I were ascending into the blue spaces of the sky... And furthermore, I don't know the reason for it, but since I have had this peaceful joy in me, I have a song in my heart: old Tobiah's song. I think it was written for this hour... for this joy... for the land of Israel that receives it... for Jerusalem-sinner and now forgiven... But do not laugh at the frenzy of a mother... but when I say: “Thank the Lord for your wealth and bless the God of centuries, that He may rebuild His Tabernacle in you”, I think that He Who will rebuild the Tabernacle of the true God in Jerusalem will be This One who is about to be born... And I also think that the destiny of my creature was prophesied and not the fate of the Holy City, when the song says: “You shall shine with a bright light: all the peoples of the world will prostrate themselves before you: the nations will come bringing gifts: they will worship the Lord in you and will hold your land as sacred, because within you they invoke the Great Name. You will be happy on account of your children, because they will all be blessed and they will gather near the Lord. Blessed are those who love you and rejoice in your peace...” And I am the first to rejoice, her happy mother... » Anne changes colour, when saying these words and she lights up like something brought from the paleness of moonlight to the brightness of a great fire and vice versa. Sweet tears, of which she is unaware, run down her cheeks and she smiles in her joy. And in the meantime she moves towards the house, walking between her husband and her relative, who listen and, deeply moved, are silent.
They make haste because clouds driven by a strong wind, rush across and gather in the sky, while the plain darkens and shudders at the warning of a storm. When they reach the threshold of the dwelling, a first livid flash of lightning crosses the sky and the rumble of the first peal of thunder sounds like the roll of a huge drum that mingles with the arpeggio (1) of the first drops on the parched leaves.
(1) Arpeggio: the sounding of notes in rapid succession.
They all go in and Anne withdraws, while Joachim, standing at the door, talks with the workers, who have in the meantime joined him: the conversation is about the longed for water which is a blessing for the parched land. But their joy turns into fear because a very violent storm is approaching with lightening and clouds threatening hail. « If the cloud bursts, it will crush the grapes and the olives like a millstone. Poor me! »
Joachim is also anxious for his wife, whose time has come to give birth to her child. His relative reassures him that Anne is not suffering at all. But he is agitated, and every time his relative or any other woman, amongst whom is Alphaeus' mother, comes out of Anne's room and goes back in again with hot water and basins and linens dried near the blazing fireplace in the large kitchen, he goes and makes enquiries, but he does not calm down despite their reassurances. Also the lack of cries from Anne worries him. He says: « I am a man and I have never seen a child being born. But I remember hearing that the absence of throes is fatal. »
It is growing dark and the evening is preceded by a furious and very violent storm: it brings torrential rain, wind, lightning, everything, except hail, which has fallen elsewhere.
One of the workers notices the ferocity of the gale: « It looks as if Satan has come out of Gehenna with his demons. Look at those black clouds! You can smell sulphur in the air and you can hear whistling and hisses, and wailing and cursing voices. If it is him, he is furious this evening! »
The other worker laughs and scoffs: « A great prey must have escaped him, or Michael has struck him with a new thunderbolt from God, and he has had his horns and tail clipped and burnt. »
A woman passes by and shouts: « Joachim! It is coming. And it is happening quickly and well!» and she disappears with a small amphora in her hands.
The storm drops suddenly, after one last thunderbolt that is so violent that it throws the three men against the side wall; and in front of the house, in the garden, a black smoky cavity remains as its memory! Meanwhile a cry, one resembling the tiny plea of a little turtle-dove that for the very first time no longer peeps but cooes, is heard from beyond Anne's door. And at the same time a huge rainbow stretches its semicircle across the sky. It rises, or seems to rise, from the top of Hermon, which kissed by the sun, looks like a most delicate pinkish alabaster: it rises up in the clear September sky and through an atmosphere cleaned of all impurities, it crosses over the hills of Galilee and the plain to the south, and over another mountain, and seems to rest the other end on the distant horizon, where it drops from view behind a chain of high mountains.
« We have never seen anything like this! »
« Look, look! »
« It seems to enclose in a circle the whole of the land of Israel. And look! there is already a star in the sky while the sun has not yet set. What a star! It is shining like a huge diamond!...»
« And the moon, over there, is a full moon, three days early. But look how she is shining! »
The women arrive jubilant with a plump little baby wrapped in plain linens.
It is Mary, the Mother. A very tiny Mary, who could sleep in the arms of a child, a Mary as long, at most, as an arm, with a little head of ivory dyed pale pink. Her tiny car mine lips no longer cry but are set in the instinctive act of sucking: they are so small that one cannot understand how they will be able to take a teat. Her pretty little nose is between two tiny round cheeks, and when they get Her to open Her eyes, by teasing Her, they see two small parts of the sky, two innocent blue points that look but cannot see, between thin fair eyelashes. Also Her hair on Her little round head is a pinkish blond, like the colour of certain honeys which are almost white.
Her ears are two small shells, transparent, perfect. Her tiny hands... what are those two little things groping in the air and ending up in Her mouth? Closed, as they are now, they are two rose buds that split the green of their sepals and show their silk within. When they are open, as now, they are two ivory jewels, made of pink ivory and alabaster with five pale garnets as nails. How will those two tiny hands be able to dry so many tears?
And Her little feet? Where are they? For the time being they are just kicking, hidden in the linens. But now the relative sits down and uncovers Her... Oh, the little feet! They are about four centimetres long. Each sole is a coral shell, with a snow white top veined in blue. Her toes are masterpieces of Lilliputian sculpture: they, too, are crowned with small scales of pale garnet. But where will they find small sandals, when those little feet of a doll will take their first steps, sandals small enough to fit such tiny feet? And how will those little feet be able to go such a long way and bear so much pain under the cross?
But that for the time being is not known, and the onlookers smile and laugh at her kicking, at Her well shaped legs, at Her minute plumpish thighs that form dimples and rings, at Her little tummy, a cup turned upside-down, at Her tiny perfect chest. Under the skin of Her breast, as soft as fine silk, the movement of Her breathing can be seen and the beating of Her little heart can be heard, if, as Her happy father is doing now, one lays one's lips there for a kiss... This is the most beautiful little heart the world will ever know: the only immaculate heart of a human being.
And Her back? They are now turning Her over and they can see the curve of Her kidneys and then the plump shoulders and the pink nape of Her neck, which is so strong that the little head lifts itself up on the arch of the minute vertebrae. It looks like the little head of a bird that scans the new world that it views. She, the Pure and Chaste One, protests with a little cry at being thus exposed to the eyes of so many, She, Entirely Virgin, the Holy and Immaculate, Whom no man will ever see nude again, protests.
Cover, do cover this bud of a lily which will never be opened on earth and which, still remaining a bud, will bear its Flower, even more beautiful than Herself. Only in Heaven the Lily of the Trine Lord will open all its petals. Because up there, there is no particle of fault that may unwillingly profane its spotlessness. Because up there the Trine God is to be received, in the presence of the whole Empyrean, the Trine God that within a few years, hidden in a faultless heart, will be in Her: Father, Son, Spouse.
Here She is again, in Her linens, in the arms of Her earthly father, whom She resembles. Not at the moment. Now She is just a little human baby. I mean that She will be like him when She has grown into a woman. She has nothing of Her mother. She has Her father's colour of complexion and eyes and certainly also his hair. His hair is now white, but when he was young it was certainly fair, as one can tell from his eyebrows. She has Her father's features, made more perfect and gentle, being a woman, but that special Woman. She has also the smile, the glance, the way of moving and height of Her father. Thinking of Jesus, as I see Him, I find Anne has given her height to her Grandson and her deep ivory colour to His skin. Mary, instead, has not the stateliness of Her mother: a tall and supple palm-tree, but She has the kindness of Her father.
Also the women are speaking of the storm and the unusual state of the moon, of the presence of the star and the rainbow. Along with Joachim they enter the happy mother's room and give her her baby.
Anne smiles at one of her thoughts: « She is the Star » she says. « Her sign is in Heaven. Mary, arch of peace! Mary, my Star! Mary, pure moon! Mary, our pearl! »
« Are you calling Her Mary? »
« Yes. Mary, star and pearl and light and peace... »
« But it means also bitterness... Are you not afraid of bringing Her misfortune? »
« God is with Her. She belongs to Him before She existed. He will lead Her along His ways and all bitterness will turn into heavenly honey. Now be of Your mummy... for a little longer, before being all of God...»
And the vision ends on the first sleep of Anne, a mother, and Mary, an infant.
27th August 1944.
« Rise and make haste, My little friend. I am longing to take you with Me on the heavenly contemplation of Mary's Virginity. You will emerge from this experience with your soul as fresh as if you too were created at the moment by the Father, a little Eve not yet aware of the flesh. You will emerge with your soul filled with light, because you will plunge into God's masterpiece. You will emerge with your whole being saturated in love, because you will, have understood the degree to which God can love. To speak of the conception of Mary, the Immaculate, means to penetrate the sky, light, love.
Come and read Her glories in the Book of the Ancestor. “God possessed me at the beginning of His works, from the beginning, before the Creation. From everlasting I was firmly set, in the beginning, before earth came into being, the deep did not yet exist and I was already conceived. The springs did not yet gush with water and the mountains had not yet risen in their huge masses, neither were the hills jewels in the sun, when I came to birth. God had not yet made the earth, the rivers and the foundation of the world, and I was there. When He prepared the Heavens I was present, when with immutable laws He enclosed the deep under the surface, when He fixed the Heavens firm and He suspended there the springs of water, when He assigned the sea its boundaries and gave laws to the waters, when He ordered the waters not to invade the shore, when He laid down the foundations of the earth, I was with Him arranging everything. I always played joyfully in His presence, I played in the universe...” You applied these words to Wisdom, but they speak of Her: the beautiful Mother, the holy Mother, the Virgin Mother of Wisdom that I am, Who am now speaking to you.
I wanted you to write the first line of the song at the top of the book that speaks of Her, that She might be contemplated and the consolation and joy of God might be known; the reason for the constant, perfect, intimate delight of this God One and Trine, Who rules and loves you and Who received from man so many reasons for being sad; the reason why He perpetuated the human race, even when, at the first test, humanity deserved to be destroyed; the reason for the forgiveness you have received.
To have Mary that loved Him! Oh! It was well worth while creating Man and allowing him to exist and decreeing to forgive him, to have the Beautiful Virgin, the Holy Virgin, the Immaculate Virgin, the Loving Virgin, the Beloved Daughter, the Most Pure Mother, the Loving Spouse! God has given you so much and would have given you even more to possess the Creature of His delight, the Sun of His sun, the Flower of His garden. And He continues to give you so much on account of Her, at Her request, for Her joy, because Her joy flows into the joy of God and increases it with flashes that fill the light, the great light of Paradise with brilliant sparkles and every sparkle is a grace to the universe, to mankind, to the blessed souls who reply with a jubilant cry of alleluia to each generation of divine miracle, created by the desire of the Blessed Trinity to see the sparkling smile of joy of the Virgin.
God desired to put a king in the universe that He had created out of nothing. A king, who by the nature of matter should be the first amongst all the creatures created with matter and endowed with matter. A king, who by nature of the spirit should be little less than divine, united to Grace as he was in his first innocent day. But the Supreme Mind, to Whom all the most remote events in centuries are known, incessantly sees what was, is and will be; and while It contemplates the past, and observes the present, It penetrates deeply with Its foresight into the most distant future and knows in every detail how the last man will die. Without confusion or discontinuity the Supreme Mind has always known that the king created to be demigod at Its side in Heaven, heir of the Father, would arrive adult in His Kingdom, after living in the house of his mother - the earth, with which he was made - during his childhood, as child of the Eternal Father for his day on earth. The Supreme Mind has always known that man would have committed against himself the crime of killing Grace in himself and the theft of robbing himself of Heaven.
Why then did He create him? Certainly many ask themselves why. Would you have preferred not to exist? Does this day not deserve, in itself, to be lived, although so poor and bare, and rendered harsh by your wickedness, so that you may know and admire the infinite Beauty that the hand of God has sown in the universe?
For whom would He have created the stars and planets that fly like thunderbolts and arrows, furrowing the vault of Heaven, or dash majestically in their rush of meteors, and yet seem slow, presenting you with light and seasons, eternally immutable and yet always mutable. They give you a new page to read on the sky, every evening, every month, every year, as if they wished to say: “Forget your restriction, forsake your printed matter which is full of obscure, putrid, dirty, poisonous, false, swearing, corrupting material and rise, at least with your eyes, to the unlimited freedom of the firmament, make your souls bright looking at so clear a sky. Build up a supply of light to take to your dark prison. Read the word that we write singing our sidereal chorus, which is more harmonious than the one drawn from a cathedral organ. The word that we write while shining, the word that we write while loving, because we always bear in mind Him Who gave us the joy of existing. And we love Him for giving us our existence, our brightness, our movement, our freedom, our beauty in the midst of the gentle azure, beyond which we can see an even more sublime blue: Paradise. And we fulfill the second part of His commandment of love, by loving you, our universal neighbours, loving you by giving you guidance and light, warmth and beauty. Read the word we say, the one on which we modulate our singing, our brightness, our smile: God!”
For whom would He have made the blue sea, the mirror of the sky, the way to the land, the smile of waters, the voice of waves? The sea itself is a word that with the rustling of silk, with the smiles of happy girls, with the sighs of old people who remember and weep, with the clamour of violence, with clashes and roars always speaks and says: “God”. The sea is for you, as the sky and the stars are. And with the sea, the lakes and the rivers, the ponds and the streams, the pure springs, all of which serve to nourish you, to quench your thirst, to clean you: and they serve you serving their Creator, without submerging you, as you deserve.
For whom would He have made the countless families of animals, the beautifully coloured birds, that fly singing, and other animals that like servants, run, work, nourish you and succour you, their kings?
For whom would He have created the countless families of plants and flowers that look like butterflies, like gems and motionless birds, and the families of fruits that are like jewels or jewels cases and are a carpet for your feet and the trees that form shelters for your heads, a welcome relaxation and joy to your minds, your limbs, your sight and smell?
For whom would He have made the minerals in the bowels of the earth and the salts dissolved in cold and boiling springs, the iodines and the bromines, unless one should enjoy them, one who was not God, but the son of God? One: man.
The joy of God lacked nothing: God had no need. He is sufficient in Himself. He has only to contemplate Himself to rejoice, to nourish Himself, to live, to rest. The whole creation has not increased by one atom His infinite joy, beauty, life, power. He made everything for the creature that He wanted to place as king in the work made by Him: that creature is man.
It is worth while living to see such a work of God and to be grateful to His power that gives you the opportunity. And you must be grateful to be alive. You should have been grateful even if you had to wait till Doomsday to be redeemed, because you have been prevaricators, proud, lascivious and murderers in your First Parents and you are still so individually. Yet God allows you to enjoy the beauty of the universe, the goodness of the universe: and He treats you as if you were good children, who are taught and granted everything so that their lives might be happier and more pleasant. What you know, you know by the light of God. What you discover, you discover through the guidance of God. In Goodness. Other knowledge and discoveries that bear the mark of evil, come from the Supreme Evil: Satan.
The Supreme Mind, that knows everything, before man existed, knew that man would be a thief and self murderer. And as the Eternal Goodness has no limits in being good, before Guilt existed, He thought of the means to obliterate Guilt. The means: I, the Word. The instrument to render the means an efficient instrument: Mary. And the Virgin was created in the sublime mind of God.
Everything was created for Me, beloved Son of the Father. I-King should have had under my Divine Royal feet carpets and jewels such as no royal palace had, and songs and voices and servants and ministers around me as no sovereign ever possessed, and flowers and gems, all the sublime, the greatness, the kindness that may derive from the thought of a God.
But I was to be Flesh as well as Spirit. Flesh to save the flesh. Flesh to sublime the flesh, taking it to Heaven many centuries before its time. Because the flesh inhabited by the spirit is God's masterpiece and Heaven had already been made for it. In order to become flesh I needed a Mother. To be God it was necessary that the Father was God.
Then God created His Spouse and said to Her: “Come with Me. At My side see what I am doing for our Son. Look and rejoice, eternal Virgin, eternal Maiden and may Your smile fill this Empyrean and give the angels their starting note and teach Paradise celestial harmony. I am looking at You. And I see You as You will be, Immaculate Woman, Who are now only a spirit: the spirit in which I rejoice. I am looking at You and I give the sea and the firmament the blue of Your eyes, the holy corn the colour of Your hair, whiteness to the lily and a rosy colour to the rose, like Your silky skin. I copy the pearls from Your minute teeth, I make the sweet strawberries watching Your mouth and I give the nightingale Your notes and the turtle-doves Your weeping. And reading Your future thoughts and listening to the throbs of Your heart, I have the motive of guidance in creating. Come, My joy, have the worlds as a plaything as long as You will be the dancing light of My thought; have the worlds for Your smile, have wreaths and necklaces of stars; place the moon under Your gentle feet; make Galatea Your stellar scarf. The stars and planets are for You. Come and enjoy looking at the flowers that will be a childish joy for Your Baby and a pillow for the Son of Your womb. Come and see sheep and lambs, eagles and doves being created. Stay beside Me when I make the hollows of the seas and grooves of the rivers and I raise the mountains and I adorn them with snow and forests. Stay here while I sow fudders and trees and vines, and I make the olive-tree for You, My Peaceful One, and the vine for You, My Vine branch who will bear the Eucharistic Bunch of grapes. Run, fly, rejoice, My Beauty. And may the universe which is created hour by hour learn from You to love Me, My Love, and may it become more beautiful owing to Your smile, Mother of My Son, Queen of My Paradise, Love of Your God.” And again, seeing the Fault and admiring the Faultless One: “Come to Me, You Who wipe out the bitterness of human disobedience, of human fornication with Satan and of human ingratitude. I will take with You My revenge over Satan.”
God, the Father Creator, had created man and woman with such a perfect law of love that you cannot even understand its perfection any longer. And you become lost in wondering how the human species would have come to be, if man had not been taught by Satan how to obtain it.
Look at the fruit and seed plants. Do they produce seed and fruit by means of fornication, by means of one fecundation out of one hundred copulations? No. The pollen emerges from the male flower and driven by a complex of meteoric and magnetic laws it proceeds to the ovary of the female flower. The latter opens, receives it and produces. It does not pollute itself and then refuse it, as you do, to enjoy the same sensation the following day. It produces and until the new season, it does not get pollinated and when it does, it is only to produce.
Look at the animals. All of them. Have you ever seen a male animal and a female one approach each other for a sterile embrace and lascivious dealings? No. From near or far, they fly, crawl, jump or run, they go, when it is time, to the fecundation rite. Neither do they evade stopping at the pleasure, but they go further, to the serious and holy consequences of the offspring, the only reason that should cause a man, a demigod by his origin of Grace which I have made complete, to accept the animality of the act, necessary since you descended by one degree towards animals.
You do not act as plants and animals do. You had as your teacher Satan. You wanted him as your teacher and you still want him. And the works you do are what one would expect of the teacher you wanted. Had you been faithful to God, you would have had the joy of children, in a holy way, without pain, without exhausting yourselves in obscene and shameful intercourses, which even beasts are unacquainted with, although beasts are without a reasoning and spiritual soul.
To man and woman, corrupted by Satan, God decided to oppose the Man born of a Woman, Whom God had super-sublimed to such an extent that She generated without knowing man: a Flower that generates a Flower, without the need of seed, by a unique kiss of the Sun on the inviolated chalice of the Lily-Mary.
The revenge of God!
Hiss, O Satan, your hatred while She comes into the world! This Child has beaten you! Before you were the Rebel, the Twister, the Corruptor, you were already beaten and She was your Conqueror. One thousand assembled armies are of no avail against your power, the arms of men fall before your scales, o Perennial One, and there is no wind capable of dispersing the stench of your breath. And yet, the heel of this Child, which is so rosy as to look like the inside of a rosy camellia, and is so smooth and soft that silk seems coarse in comparison, and is so small that it could enter the chalice of a tulip and make itself a tiny shoe with that vegetable satin, that heel is crushing your head without any fear and relegates you to your den. And Her cry causes you to flee away, although you are not afraid of armies. And Her breath purifies the world of your foul smell. You are defeated. Her name, Her look, Her purity are a lance, a thunderbolt that pierces you and demolishes you and imprisons you in your den in Hell, o Cursed One, who deprived God of the joy of being the Father of all men created!
In vain you have corrupted them, who had been created innocent, leading them to knowledge and conception by means of the sensuousness of lust, depriving God, in His beloved creature, of being the benefactor of the children according to rules, which, had they been respected, would have kept a balance on earth between sexes and races, a balance capable of averting wars between peoples and calamities between families.
By obeying, they would have also known love. Nay, only by obeying they would have known love and possessed it. A complete and peaceful possession of this gift from God, Who from the supernatural descends to the inferior, so that also the flesh may rejoice devoutly, since it is united to the spirit and created by Him Who created the spirit.
Now, men, what is your love, what are your loves? Either lewdness disguised as love or an incurable fear of losing the love of your partner through her or other people's lewdness. You are never sure of possessing the heart of your husband or wife, since lust entered the world. And you tremble and cry and become overwrought with jealousy, sometimes you kill to avenge a betrayal, sometimes you despair, and sometimes you lack will or even become insane.
This is what you have done, Satan, to the children of God. Those whom you have corrupted, would have known the joy of having children without suffering any pain and would have experienced the joy of being born without fear of dying. But now you are beaten in a Woman and by a Woman. From now on, whoever loves Her will become once again God's own, overcoming your temptations, to be able to look at Her immaculate purity. From now on mothers, though not able to conceive without pain, will find comfort in her. From now on She will be the guide of married women and the Mother of dying people, so that it will be sweet to die resting on that breast which is a shield against you, you Cursed One, and against the wrath of God.
Mary, little voice, you have seen the birth of the Virgin's Son and the assumption of the Virgin to Heaven. You have therefore seen that the faultless ones are unaware of the pain in giving birth as well as of the pain in dying. But if the Most Innocent Mother of God was granted the perfection of celestial gifts, all those who in the First Parents had remained innocent and sons of God, would have generated without throes as it was fair, having conceived without lust, and they would have died without anxiety.
The sublime victory of God over Satan's revenge was to raise the perfection of the beloved creature to a super-perfection that should annul at least in one person all recollection of humanity, liable to Satan's poison, so that the Son should be generated not by a man's chaste embrace, but by a divine embrace that causes the spirit to change colour in the ecstasy of the Fire.
The Virgin's Virginity!...
Come. Contemplate this deep virginity that gives ecstatic dizziness in its contemplation! What is the poor enforced virginity of a woman that no man married? Less than nothing. What is the virginity of a woman who wanted to be a virgin to belong to God, but is so in her body and not in her spirit, where she allows alien thoughts to enter and entertains allurements of human thoughts? It is a sham virginity. But still very little. What is the virginity of a cloistered nun who lives only for God? Very much. But it is never the perfect virginity when compared with My Mother's.
There has always been an association, also in the most holy one. The original association between spirit and fault. The one that only Baptism dissolves. It dissolves it, but as in the case of a woman separated from her husband by his death, it does not render virginity complete such as it was in the First Parents before Sin. A scar remains and hurts causing one to remember it, and it is always ready to become a sore like certain diseases that periodically are made worse by their virus. In the Virgin there is no sign of this dissolved association with the Fault. Her soul appears beautiful and intact as when the Father conceived Her, gathering all graces in Her.
She is the Virgin. She is the Only One. She is the Perfect One. The Complete One. Conceived as such. Generated as such. Remained such. Crowned such. Eternally such. She is the Virgin. She is the acme of intangibility, of purity, of grace that is lost in the Abyss from which it emerged: in God: most perfect Intangibility, Purity, Grace.
That is the revenge of the God Trine and One. Against creatures desecrated He raises this Star to perfection. Against pernicious curiosity He raises this Coy Virgin, contented only with loving God. Against the science of evil, this sublime Innocent Virgin. In Her there is not only no knowledge of dejected love: there is not only non-acquaintance with the love that God had given to married people. Much more. In Her there is the absence of incentives, the inheritance of Sin. In Her there is only the icy and white-hot wisdom of divine love. A fire that strengthens the flesh with ice, so that it may be a transparent mirror at the altar where God married a Virgin and does not lower Himself because His perfection embraces Her perfection, which, as it becomes a bride, is only inferior to His by one point, subject to Him as a Woman, but without fault as He is. »