22nd February 1944.
I always see the room where Mary lives. The signs of the Passion have disappeared.
The Virgin is sitting and reading. They must be holy books, because She certainly does not read anything else in the scroll She is holding in Her hands. She is no longer tortured. Her face is more grave than before the Passion, more mature. But it is no longer that tragical face. It is stately but serene.
It seems to be morning, because the sun is already shining brightly and through the open window it illuminates the quiet room, but one can see that the garden, surrounded by high walls and on to which the window opens, is still all fresh with dew.
Jesus goes in. He is still wearing the wonderful garment of the morning of the Resurrection. His face sheds brightness and His wounds are like small suns.
Mary kneels down smiling, then She stands up and kisses His right Hand. Jesus presses Her to His Heart and kisses Her forehead, smiling, and asks Her for a kiss, which She also gives Him on His Forehead.
« Mother. The time of My stay on the earth is over. I am ascending to My Father. I have come to say a special farewell to You and to show Myself to You once again as I shall be in Heaven. It was not possible for Me to show Myself to men in this splendid garment. They would not have been able to bear the beauty of My glorified Body. It exceeds by far their possibilities. But to You, yes, Mother. And I have come to gladden You once again with it. Kiss My Wounds, so that in Heaven I may smell the perfume of Your lips and the sweetness of My Blood may remain on them for You.
But be sure, Mother, that I will never leave You. I will come out of Your heart only those few moments necessary for the consecration of the Bread and of the Wine, to return there, after getting detached from You with difficulty, with an eagerness of love like Your own, o My living Heaven of which I am the Heaven. We shall never be so united as from now on. Previously there was My embryonal inability, then My childhood, then the struggle of life and of work, then My mission, and then the Cross and the Sepulchre to keep Me away and to prevent Me from telling You how much I love You. But now I shall be in You no longer as a creature that is being formed, no longer near You among the obstacles of the world that forbids the fusion of two who love each other. Now I shall be in You as God, and nothing, nothing on Earth and in Heaven will be able to separate Me from You, You from Me, Holy Mother. I will speak words of ineffable love to You, I will give You caresses of inexpressible kindness. And you will love Me for those who do not love Me.
Oh! Mother, with Your perfect love, You fill the measure of love that the world will not give the Christ. So, rather than a farewell, Mine is the greeting of one who goes out for a moment, as if I were going to pick roses and lilies in this flowery garden. But from Heaven I will bring You other roses and other lilies, more beautiful than these that have bloomed here. I will fill Your heart with them, Mother, to make You forget the stench of the Earth, that does not want to be holy, and to give You in advance the air of the blissful Paradise, where You are expected with so much love.
And the Love, Who cannot wait, will come upon You in ten days' time. Make Yourself beautiful with Your most beautiful joy, o Virgin Mother, because Your Spouse is coming. Winter is over... the vineyards in blossom shed their scent, and He sings: “Rise, o most beautiful one. Come, My Bride, you will be crowned.” With His Fire He will crown You, o Holy Mother, and will make You happy with His spirit, which will be infused into You with all its magnificence, o Queen of Wisdom, His Queen, Who understood Him since the dawn of Your life and loved Him as no creature in the world ever loved.
Mother. I am ascending to Our Father. Upon You, Blessed Mother, the blessing of Your Son. »
Mary beams with joy in Her ecstasy, in the room that is still bright in the light of Christ.
« Do not discuss, men, whether it was or was not possible for Me to change garment. I no longer was the Man bound to the necessities of man. I had the Universe as My footstool and all the powers as My obedient servants. And if, while I was the Evangelizer, I was able to become transfigured on the Tabor, should I have not been able to become transfigured for My Mother, when I became the glorious Christ? Or rather, change Myself for men and appear to Her as I was by now, divine, glorious, transfigured, from Man as I showed Myself to everybody in What I really was? And yet She had seen Me, poor Mother, transfigured by tortures. It was fair that She should see Me transfigured by Glory.
Do not discuss whether I could really be in Mary. If you say that God is in Heaven and on the earth and everywhere, why can you doubt whether at the same time I could be in Heaven and in the Heart of Mary, Who was a living Heaven? If you believe that I am in the Blessed Sacrament and enclosed in your ciboria, why can you doubt whether I was in that most pure and ardent Ciborium that was the Heart of My Mother?
What is the Eucharist? It is My Body and My Blood united to My Soul and to My Divinity. Well, when She was pregnant with Me, what else had She in Her womb? Did She not have the Son of God, the Word of the Father with His Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity? Do you, perhaps, not have Me because Mary had Me and She gave Me to you, after carrying Me for nine months? Well, as I left Heaven to dwell in Mary's womb, so, now that I was leaving the Earth, I was electing Mary's womb as My Ciborium. And which ciborium, in which cathedral, is more beautiful and holy than this one?
Holy Communion is a miracle of love that I worked for you, men. But at the summit of my thought of love, there was shining the thought of infinite love of being able to live with My Mother and make Her live with Me until we should be reunited in Heaven. I worked the first miracle for the joy of My Mother, at Cana in Galilee. The last miracle, or rather, the last miracles, for the consolation of Mary, in Jerusalem. The Eucharist and the veil of the veronica. The latter, to give a drop of honey to the bitterness of the Desolate Mother. The former, to prevent Her from feeling that Jesus was no longer on the Earth.
Everything, everything, everything, but try and understand this once and for all, you have through Mary! You ought to love and bless Her at each breath of yours.
The veil of veronica is also a goad to your skeptical souls. Since you, o rationalists, o tepid people vacillating in your faith, proceed through arid examinations, compare the face of the veronica with that of the Holy Shroud. One is the Face of a living person, the other of a dead one. But length, width, somatic types, form, distinctive features, are identical. Superimpose the images. You will see that they correspond. It is I. I Who wanted to remind you how I was and how I had become out of love for you. If you had not gone astray, if you were not blind, those two Faces should be enough to bring you to love, to repentance, to God.
The Son of God leaves you, blessing you with the Father and with the Holy Spirit. »