Memoirs of a Spanish Country Priest (Chapter X)

CHAPTER X

The Angels at Garabandal

We find the first mention of an angel at Garabandal is Conchita’s diary when she tells it to us with a marvelous description: (June 18, 1961)

Suddenly a very beautiful figure appeared to me, shining brilliantly, without hurting my eyes.

Concerning June 24, 1961, Conchita wrote:

We never heard him speak.

That day we saw a banner underneath him. On the first line was written:

— It is necessary etc . . . And on the last line there were Roman numerals.

Then on July 1:

I come to announce to you a visit by the Virgin under the title of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, who will appear to you tomorrow, Sunday.

Very happy, we told him, “Let her come right away!”

He smiled, and we said to him, “What is the meaning of the inscription?”

“The Virgin will tell you.”

That day he talked to us about many things.

He recalled that on the first day Jacinta, Loli and Mari Cruz were about to call my mother, thinking I was having an attack . . .

He stayed two hours with us, and to us that seemed two seconds.

Then he told us, “I will return tomorrow with the Virgin.” And he left . . .

Here is the description that Conchita made of the Angel:

He was dressed in a long flowing tunic without a belt. His wings were rather long, very lovely, pink in color. His face was neither long nor round; his nose was handsome; his eyes dark; and the face tan. His hands were fine with short nails: his feet weren’t seen.

On July 2, a new mention of an angel. Another angel accompanies the Virgin, but the girls did not know who it was.

Sunday, July 2nd came. It was 6 o’clock in the evening. We were going to the Calleja to recite the rosary.

We had not arrived when the Virgin appeared to us.

Two Angels accompanied her. One was St. Michael; the other we did not know. He was dressed like St. Michael. They looked like twins.

On the right side of the Angel, at the same height as the Virgin, there was an eye of great size; it looked like the Eye of God.

We know very little about the second Angel. He only appeared one time during the first visit of the Virgin; no other mention was to be made. (In the summer of 1976 Jacinta told Father Eusebio García de Pesquera that the second angel was St. Gabriel.)

We know from Conchita herself, that the other angel was St. Michael. He appeared as an ambassador for the Virgin and later as a catechist for the visionaries, particularly for those things that related to the reception of Holy Communion, as we shall see later.

Memoirs of a Spanish Country Priest (Chapter IX)

CHAPTER IX

Noteworthy Ecstasies

Jacinta Points Out the Priest’s Presence

Among the people who went up one day with us to Garabandal was a Military Air Force Chaplain. He was wearing only the insignias of his rank of Captain and he asked the priests present not to tell the girls that he was also a priest. His desire was carefully respected.

That night Jacinta fell into ecstasy and the pastor, Father Valentín, as was his custom, asked her how many priests were present. The girl gave the correct number of those in cassocks and added, “And one of those who go by plane. This is his name.”

Returning home with us at 4 o’clock in the morning, the chaplain could not stop telling me of his astonishment and emotions.

Conchita and the Dedicated Photo

One day, during the month of September, 1961, I was in the grocery store of Primitiva González. Through the window that overlooked the street, I could distinguish Conchita in a group of people. I went over to the crowd and told the girl, when she was finished with the visitors, to come into the kitchen. She rejoined me right away.

I had in my hand 5 or 6 photographs of the girls that I had taken on my first trip to Garabandal on the preceding August 22, 1961.

— “Conchita, do you know these children?”

— “Yes,” she answered teasing, “They are some girls from Cosío.”

— “Since it is of you, you can keep them. And you can give one to Mari Cruz since she also is in the photograph.”

— “Thank you, Father.”

Then becoming suddenly excited, she excused herself, saying, “I have to go.”

And she disappeared. (At the time I still was unaware of the “calls.”)

***

Then I remembered that one of the pictures that I had given her was dedicated and addressed to a priest from Burgos whom I had accompanied to Garabandal on the previous August 22nd.

I asked the daughter of Primativa, if there was a way to send her child to find Conchita, in order to ask her to give back the dedicated picture in exchange for another one. But Conchita was already in ecstasy. Her mother had tried to take the 5 or 6 pictures from her hand and was able to take all except the one Conchita held in the same hand throughout the duration of the ecstasy.

When I learned that Conchita was in ecstasy, I went to find her in order to take some pictures. It was 5:30 in the afternoon. Not having a flash unit on my camera, I had no pictures of an ecstasy — at that time, those occurred during the night when I was in the village. I took some photos and when the film was used up, I sought a place in the shade to change rolls. When this was done, the visionary had returned to the normal state.

Someone came up to me.

— “Conchita is looking for you. The Virgin has given her a message for you.”

— “Where is she?”

She could not answer me.

I went then to her house and there I saw her surrounded by some of my parishioners who had accompanied me on that day. Leaving the crowd immediately, she came up to me.

— “Father, the Virgin told me to give you back this picture, since you gave it to me by mistake.”

My jaw dropped, not knowing what to answer her. Then I got a hold of myself.

— “I think that is just what I wanted to tell you myself.”

I gave her a gift of a similar picture that was not dedicated. And Conchita departed to go back to the crowd she had left.

Loli Photographs the Virgin

Here is an account of a photograph of which I was likewise an eyewitness. Permit me to recount the details for without knowing them some readers might be puzzled.

On the 12th of September, 1961, I was present in Conchita’s house during a very long ecstasy of Loli and Jacinta, lasting from midnight until four in the morning.

It is already known that among the spectators many were the men and women who gave the children (before the arrival of the Virgin) religious articles to be presented when the time came for them to be kissed by Her lips. I myself had confided all that I had at hand to be kissed and to this day I cannot explain what motivated me to give my camera to Conchita during the ecstasies of Loli and Jacinta.

(Notice that Conchita herself was not in the ecstatic state, and I repeat that one could not communicate with the visionaries in ecstasy unless it was through one of them who was not.)

***

Loli received the camera although Conchita did not tell her what it was.

Immediately, without hesitating, Loli placed the camera before her eyes and it was heard:

— “I am going to take your picture.”

Then there was reflection.

— “What a funny apparatus. I don’t see you.”

But right away, as if she had received instruction from the Vision:

— “Oh, I have to push a button?” (The camera was in its case)

She searched for the latch with her fingers and opened the case.

— “Now I see you good.”

It could be seen that she had received instructions again, since she stated,

— “Oh I have to push another button?”

(My camera was a pocket Kodak with a bellows. The bellows had to be pulled out to use the camera.)

She pushed the button, pulled out the bellows, and again brought the camera to eye level.

Everything was done without haste, very calmly. Her head held backwards, Loli kept her eyes fixed on the Vision, never looking at what her hands were doing. It was obvious that she was following mysterious instructions.

She spoke:

— “Oh, I must wind the spool?”

Her fingers searched on the right side, at the bottom of the camera for the film advance lever, and wound the film, unaware, obviously — for she knew absolutely nothing about cameras — that without this operation, there would be a double exposure.

After that came the instruction to lower the device in order to operate the camera. She did this, but not immediately. It can be seen that if all these operations were done correctly, she should have taken some time.

Everything finished, without forgetting to snap the shutter, she restarted the series of actions necessary to take two more pictures. This time, it was with greater dexterity and without receiving new instructions. Loli operated the camera rapidly, as if she knew it perfectly, like one accustomed to its use.

***

I did not pay much attention to these photos taken by Loli. It was sometime later that I sent the film to be developed. My first impression was, as would be expected, that there would not be a positive result. And that for two main reasons. First of all, Loli had taken the pictures inside Conchita’s house without a flash, with standard film, by the light of the small bulb that illuminated the kitchen. Besides, cameras are made only for filming things or persons naturally visible.

When the film was returned, I sent the pictures by letter to Loli, writing in jest, “Since you have taken the photographs yourself, when you see the Virgin, ask her why they didn’t come out better, since I see nothing there.”

Three months later, Loli admitted to me that she had never remembered to talk to the Virgin about the photos. Finally she did so. Here is what she stated:

— “The Virgin assured me that she was well-photographed and she showed me where she was on the picture. When I asked her why she could not be seen better, she answered, “Because, even if the picture had come out perfectly, they would still not believe.”

In regard to these pictures, I know a person who later made an experiment. In a pile of holy cards, she slipped in the one they had the custom of calling “The Virgin’s Photograph.” Obviously Loli knew nothing about it. She went into ecstasy, taking it together with the other articles, placed on the table by the spectators. She started to present the holy cards for the Virgin to kiss.

Coming, without knowing it, to “The Virgin’s Photograph,” she was seen to hesitate. The she spoke:

— “Oh it’s the picture where you found yourself?”

***

In my opinion, this story of the photograph has a special interest of technical character, one might say.

Before the episode in Conchita’s kitchen, Loli was absolutely incapable of using any camera, especially mine. And eight days after the brilliant result in that kitchen, she became absolutely incapable of repeating it in her normal state. I verified this myself at her home, in the presence of her father, Ceferino, by placing my camera in Loli’s hands. She no longer knew anything at all about it.

An experience of a technical character. Yes. On instructions from the Virgin.

The young girl — she was 12½ years old — had done everything exactly as she had to do it. The first time, with the length of time necessary to execute the instructions received; afterward she had worked with the rapidity of a professional.

Five operations in total: taking the camera out of the case, advancing the film, extending the bellows, cocking the shutter, and releasing the shutter.

Why had I handed my camera on that night to Conchita so that she could give it to Loli? I still do not know, I have said. On the other hand, I remember as if it were yesterday that on the very same night, Loli revealed to the spectators my complete identity. First of all, my last name, following that my first name, then my second name, while indicating that it comprised three words. She even added that my parish church was dedicated to Mary.

All of this was absolutely accurate. On that day in September, 1961, Loli could not talk about me that way through human knowledge.

Conchita and the Glass of Milk

One day Conchita was eating near the elevated kitchen fireplace on a small stool where she usually sat.

Suddenly Loli came inside in ecstasy and said to her:

— “Conchita, the Virgin says you should finish quickly, since she is going to come to see you.”

Conchita sped up her motions a little, and then as she lifted her glass of milk, to everyone’s surprise, she fell into ecstasy, the glass of milk in her hand. She came down slowly from the fireplace, and at the doorway of the house, she started running swiftly toward the church. She stopped abruptly in front of the portico. There they were able to take the celebrated glass of milk from her hand. To everyone’s surprise, not a drop had been lost.

I was present at this ecstasy in the kitchen, but I did not leave to follow the child to the church.

Loli Forces my Hand

After August, 1961 the children started to carry a crucifix with them.

From the first ‘call’ they went to their homes to get it and they hid it in their clothes. At the third ‘call’, the ecstasy very near, they put it in their hands. The ecstasy having begun, their first gesture was to offer it to the Virgin to kiss. Sometimes they themselves kissed it and then presented it to the lips of the spectators, not always to everyone. Furthermore it happened that they made the sign of the cross on one or another.

We were in Conchita’s kitchen and Loli was in ecstasy. Outside the open window, she held out a crucifix to be kissed by the persons who were outside of Anecita’s house. The owner of the crucifix, a woman, was with us in the kitchen. For her — it would not be understandable otherwise — it was a veritable relic, and above all she was afraid of losing it.

— “My crucifix. My crucifix,” she repeated like a spoiled child.

Conchita, who was not in ecstasy, got upset.

— “What an impertinent woman! Give it to her onc and for all.” And coming up to Loli, she carefully took the crucifix from her. Finally satisfied, the woman went away with her treasure.

Loli herself remained without a crucifix, facing the open window, her hands together on her chest, in front of those who were looking in from outside.

***

A few seconds later, she was heard to say:

— “Conchita, the Virgin says to ask something from Father.”

At that time I was the only priest present in the kitchen, near the entry door, my hands in my pockets.

My interior reaction was immediate, and I thought secretly;

— “Loli, if you yourself do not ask me for it, I will not give it to you. I require this proof from you. I am waiting for you.”

Here are some details which appear useful to comprehend what happened. I did not have the custom of carrying a crucifix on my person. By chance, on that day I had one in the right hand pocket of my cassock and I was holding it tightly clenched in my hand. It would be seen what was going to happen. In any case I waited as long as it was necessary, looking from afar at the visionary who had her back turned to all of us.

Had not Conchita heard or understood Loli’s question? Perhaps, since she did not ask anything from me.

Then Loli, still in ecstasy, turned herself half way around, came toward me and stopped in front of me. With an amazing motion of her right arm, with a astonishing suppleness and an unbelievable agility, she introduced her right hand into the right hand pocket of my cassock. She reached my hand firmly closed on my crucifix, opened it in spite of me, leaving my hand in my pocket and withdrawing the crucifix from its hiding place.

Another important detail: the opening to this pocket allows me to affirm that with my hand placed where it was, it was not humanly possible to introduce another hand, even as small as hers.

When I recall the scene, I believe the cinema has never filmed anything that could be compared to the superhuman beauty of Loli’s movements on that occasion. That beauty and superhuman strength of the child amazed me so that with my hand unclenched and my crucifix gone — overcome — I told her, “Take it. Take it. That’s enough proof for me.”

***

One last remark. At times the hands of the seers did not have their normal temperature. At the moment when Loli, in a naturally inexplicable way, put her hand into the pocket of my cassock, the temperature was normal.

Memoirs of a Spanish Country Priest (Chapter VIII)

CHAPTER VIII

The Nature of the Ecstasies

I have some letters from Conchita making illusion to a question that I had her ask the Virgin on the subject of the nature of the ecstasies at Garabandal.

She knew absolutely nothing of this question — and that was my entire wish. It will be seen that she was not alone in this matter. I am going to try to explain this clearly.

I adopted a terminology of my own invention, making use of a case that could be called classic. I only wanted that she would help me to resolve the problems I was posing to myself in using words that I was employing according to my personal conception of things. Neither Conchita nor any other person would be able to discover this.

Then I said to Conchita only these words:

— “Ask the Virgin if it is perfect or imperfect.”

She answered, “What do you want to say?”

— “Simply what these words mean.”

***

According to my opinion, but without pre-judging the decision of the Church in this matter, ecstasies of a supernatural divine type were taking place at Garabandal. Therefore, speaking then to Conchita, I used the words ‘perfect’ and ‘imperfect’ in making an abstraction of the supernaturality of the divine order of the events.

Furthermore, at that moment, I thought that the ecstasies that I was calling ‘perfect’ had to leave traces of pain with the ecstatic person.

I was considering on my part as ‘imperfect,’ the ecstasy that took place with or without total loss of the senses, and in both cases did not leave any trace of fatigue or illness in the bodies of the girls.

Then it was this ‘imperfect’ — according to the vocabulary that I had designed myself — that I would verify. Conchita should then respond on the part of the Virgin, “It is ‘imperfect.’”

Granted:

In the first place the ecstasies lasted an hour, sometimes several hours. Obviously the positions taken by the seers could not be maintained for such a length of time even by vigorous persons in the normal state, How could it be possible for children — healthy certainly — but still so young? Furthermore, on leaving the ecstasies they had an extraordinary freshness and were more vibrant than they had appeared before. Far from being exhausted, they went back to work, as if nothing had happened.

Although sleeping soundly at times, they ordinarily slept very little. Because some ecstasies lasted a long time and were repeated often; because most of them took place at night; because the children in order to see the Virgin, and also in the spirit of sacrifice, remained in the kitchens, sleeping completely dressed, leaning against the wall. Because those who were not in ecstasy even during the night accompanied their companions who were in ecstasy. On the contrary, on certain occasions, the eyelids closed, although for the most part, this was not observed. Usually their hands were perfectly rigid. At other times one could make their fingers move, before becoming immediately rigid. The ankles and the feet always had their normal play. As for the hands and face, sometimes they were warm, at other times they were not.

Due to my personal conception of things, and my terminology (which was at the least unusual) the two cases that I am going to describe gave me something to ponder and left me perplexed.

***

I will express myself in another way. If one wills, here is the same question like that employed in the words ‘perfect’ and ‘imperfect.’ The ecstasies were they of a major or minor level according to the supernatural order? Being understood that for me those of a major were identical to ‘perfect’ which would lead the ecstatic into painful residuals and leave them with vestiges of fatigue and illnesses (things they never showed).

***

One day Conchita wrote me: “The Virgin did not answer me on the subject of ‘perfect’ and ‘imperfect.’ She will tell me later.”

Another letter followed: “The other day, without my asking her, the Virgin told me concerning the matter of ‘perfect’ or ‘imperfect,’ it was ‘perfect.’”

On my return to Garabandal in the kitchen in front of Aniceta, I thought of the courtesy of Our Lady who answered on her own initiative, and I said:

— “Then, Conchita, the Virgin has really said it was ‘perfect’?”

— “Yes. The Virgin told me on the subject of ‘perfect’ and ‘imperfect,’ it was ‘perfect.’”

— “Good, Conchita. But this answer completely demolishes my idea because I had thought it was imperfect.”

Aniceta intervened instantly:

— “Conchita, didn’t I tell you that you should say ‘imperfect’?”

This was the answer of the child of 12 and a half years:

“I don’t know what this subject of perfect and imperfect is about. What I know is that the Virgin told me ‘perfect.’”

It remained then for me to secretly correct my conception of things and my made-up terminology by accepting the lesson of mystical theology the Virgin had given me. To admire also the absolute loyalty and exemplary firmness of Conchita, who without understanding either my thought or my terminology had remained — in spite of her mother Aniceta — a very faithful messenger of Our Lady of Mount Carmel.

***

I had previously mentioned that the children slept in the kitchen with their clothes on, so as not to miss the company of the Virgin. They were well aware that, after having said that she would come at night, if they were in bed, she would respect their sleep. And they ardently wanted to see her.

They knew also that after having said that she would come during the night, regardless of this, the Virgin wanted them to obey their parents if they ordered them to go to bed.

Memoirs of a Spanish Country Priest (Chapter VII)

CHAPTER VII

The Ecstasies Seen from the Exterior

I’ve witnessed numerous ecstasies: 200 or more. There were the four girls together, three at a time, two at a time, or one alone. The ecstatic walk was normal or was accomplished with great speed. The went forward or backward. Through the village, in all the little streets, often in the “Calleja” which ascended up to the Pines; they climbed up to the Pines or descended down from them.

I point out here the extreme astonishment of those who were witnesses of this descent from the Pines. They never took a good path.

It is known that there are no good paths for going down. Nevertheless, there are some that are better than others, although they all are bad. The little shepherds and their sheep know them well.

The visionaries descended by paths that no human, no animal would have taken, even goats. A person in good faith cannot pretend that these descents can be explained — in a natural way — especially when they were made backwards, even backwards on their knees. Especially if they were regarded in their posture — let us say uncomfortable — the figure straight and head bent backwards, the eyes fixed on their vision.

Who can dispute this “abnormal” and definitely real happening that can be studied and should be studied?

If an adversary of good faith exists, I propose to him to perform himself “the exercise” on the terrain, in the same way, under the same conditions, especially during the dark night, in the snow and on the ice. Not only one time, but almost every day, as at the time of the apparitions.

***

During the course of these ecstasies, in all the locations, I heard the children talk with their Vision. In a hushed voice, intimate at times, but intelligible. These conversations were perfect in the sense that it could be perfectly known that they were responding to questions from the Virgin or the Angel; or that they were asking them themselves. In the latter case, the young girls were never afraid of annoying Our Lady of Mount Carmel or St. Michael — they listened to the beloved voice with the most rapt attention.

It was evident to everyone that this was a dialogue perfectly coordinated, for the accurate convenience of the interlocutors of Heaven and earth.

On the visionaries’ side, their conversations were the most varied.

They talked about everything when their turn came. From the things that they did, to those that they had heard spoken about. They recounted what was happening in the village, at their homes, in the fields, in the pastures. They requested cures, conversions, miracles. “So that the people believe us,” they were heard to say. They confided to the Virgin messages written by the spectators and gave back responses to them in a clear voice in public or privately. Sometimes it was necessary to wait a more or less long time for them to obtain permission from Our Lady of Mount Carmel to repeat what they had heard at the time the questions were presented.

***

I have seen the little girls give rosaries, crucifixes, medals, scapulars, holy cards for the Vision to kiss.

One day in front of me at Conchita’s house, Loli put on the right hand of a woman the wedding ring that at the request of the woman herself, as was the custom, she had first presented to the lips of the Virgin. Then advised by the Virgin, I saw her remove the ring from that finger and put it on the ring finger of the other hand. The spectators thought the child had made a mistake. Not so. Filled with wonder and all in tears of joy, the person involved stated, “The Virgin knows well that in the region of Valencia where I came from, the wedding ring is worn on the left hand, contrary to the Spanish custom.”

Loli did not stop there. She told the wife the name of her husband, whose name was completely unknown to Loli prior to hearing it from the lips of Her who revealed it. This happened at Conchita’s home, and not at Loli’s, on the 12th of September, 1961, in my presence.

***

The entry into the ecstasies was always made in the same manner. The head was brusquely thrown backwards and did not return to its normal position until after the Apparition had left. They fell on their knees instantaneously. There was such force in their fall to the ground on the sharp or flat stones, that their kneecaps cracked as if they were broken. Spectators, and especially the mothers of the seers, were struck with fear. They entered into ecstasy as if they were struck by lightening — the word is not too strong. When they came out of it, also suddenly, they had neither a wrenched neck, nor a sore back, nor a broken bone. Not in the least fatigued, they smiled sweetly at the spectators.

***

The conversation with their Vision began while standing still or while marching. If they were caught up into ecstasy in their homes, they almost always went out into the village. They passed through the little streets, went around the church, went down to the cemetery, went up to the Pines, knocked at the villagers’ doors at all hours, greeted the sick — eventually also the well — knelt in front of the pictures of the departed while praying for them.

The ecstasies would seize them everywhere: at home, under the church portico, at the Cuadro, at the Pines, at the home of another visionary. It was the same when they returned to the normal state.

The ecstasies lasted from five minutes to one or several hours. There was one of seven hours.

It was marvelous to see the ease with which a young girl in ecstasy lifted up, without the least effort, one of her companions who was also in ecstasy. She would do it with a single hand, raising her companion above her shoulders, to have her kiss the Virgin when she was higher than usual. But, experimenting in the normal state, we have noticed that they were not able to lift another one up to half her height, even when using both hands at the cost of great effort.

***

When together in a group, they were aware that the others were walking, but each one thought that she herself was remaining immobile without taking part in the common walk.

If one of them was in ecstasy, she was seen by the others, even if they were not in the same place.

When two seers came from different places during their ecstasy, they showed their joy on meeting together, sometimes holding the other’s arm to follow the same path together. At other times, the meeting passed, each one followed her own path.

One would see sometimes a group of persons accompanying a single visionary and praying behind her, while another group did the same following another visionary.

***

During the ecstasies, the girls recited the Rosary very slowly, very piously. These moving prayers have been recorded on a tape recorder. Those who have had the occasion to hear them have been as surprised as favorably impressed.

The girls recited these rosaries while going to the Pines or the cemetery, while making a circle around the church, while visiting the houses, or while traversing the little streets.

If during the ecstasies, one of the girls lost a shoe or slipper, another of the girls would have to put the shoe back on, whether or not this other one was in ecstasy. If one of us tried to do it, the child would take the shoe off immediately.

***

At the beginning, the ecstasies took place at the Cuadro, that is to say, at the square, on the path that led to the Pines. The Cuadro was the name given to the place of the apparitions in the Calleja because the young people of the village had fenced it off in the form of a square, made from tree trunks to isolate the visionaries to protect them from the crowd.

On August 8, 1961, the ecstatic marches began. On that day, according to Father R. P. Royo-Marin O.P., who was present, the little girls seemed to have wings on their feet while making their way to the church.

***

At the beginning, the doctors and the priests made numerous experiments to test if the children were really in ecstasy; if, for example, they were sensitive to pain: burnings, pin pricks, etc.. They were never able to make them manifest any sensation of pain. Later, to avoid abuses, the young people surrounded and protected the children with their arms. As Ceferino, the father of Loli, said: “For the tests, that’s enough for now.”

***

While in ecstasy, they revealed the names of certain spectators. They knew and made known the exact number of priests who were in the village at the time. One day they disclosed that there was one more priest than was seen. The person concerned was convinced, admitting that he had dressed as a layman for the occasion. For myself, one day Loli revealed my name and surnames, adding that my parish was dedicated to the Virgin.

To other persons, the girls revealed facts from their past, without omitting certain secrets of conscience.

***

Generally the end of the ecstasies occurred in the following manner. As one could surmise from their gestures — the girls told about it later — the visionaries kissed the Holy Virgin on both cheeks. Then they made their extraordinary sign of the cross. They bowed their heads slightly and returned to the normal state, smiling gently. No other manifestation, or other unusual gesture. Immediately calm and always smiling, they answered the questions of the persons surrounding them.

Regardless of the length of the ecstasy — there were some very long ones that I am going to mention — the young girls always had the impression they only lasted a brief moment — “un poquitin” — as they repeated.

One could hear them say at the end to the Virgin, “Do not leave yet. Stay. Un poquitín más.” (a little bit longer)

Sometimes Conchita went even farther. I only noticed this at her home. She made the sign of the cross intentionally wrong. She restarted several times while smiling. Finally, she made the sign of the cross correctly and the Virgin left.

Truly, as Father Luis Andreu repeated before dying: “We have a very good mother in Heaven. We should not fear the supernatural. The children have taught us how we should comport ourselves toward her, having a child-like confidence in her.”

The end of the ecstasies was very beautiful. Even when one has seen it, one cannot describe it exactly.

Memoirs of a Spanish Country Priest (Chapter VI)

CHAPTER VI

The Children in the Normal State

I have studied closely, and at great length, the four children in their normal state, and I possess numerous and interesting motion pictures and photographs. My conclusions are definite: This affair does not in any way involve young girls who are sick or showing abnormal symptoms. I say this in all honesty, referring the reader to various doctors who have performed their profession on the site with impartiality.

I can speak with knowledge of their behavior at home, at the harvest, in the pastures, in the village, during play, on the way to school, at the church, at other places. My camera and my glance followed or caught them everywhere.

They play, run, jump, laugh, like the other young girls of the village. They love innocent jokes, especially Conchita, resembling in that way her mother Aniceta in her youth. However, two things make them markedly different: their retirement at church, even when they pray as rapidly as all the other people; and remarkable modesty. They wear skirts for their age, but always sit with striking reserve. One can never reproach them for the least indiscretion with regard to feminine purity. In this matter, their modesty was pushed to the extreme. They were molded to such virtue by the Virgin herself. It is sufficient to recall the ecstasies to remember how — in postures sometimes surprising to the observers not forewarned — they concerned themselves with the proper placement of their clothes.

The attentions and even the preferences that were shown to her three companions, and especially to Conchita, whom she liked so much to be with, caused — it seems — much harm to Mari Cruz. These gave her an inferiority complex and frustration which still remains. The gifts were for the others and especially for Conchita whom she liked very much. Did not the two of them line up two abreast from the start of the apparitions?

Why did the visitors always act this way with regard to Mari Cruz? Because she had less apparitions than the others? Because she had no more after September 11, 1962, as she still admits now at certain times. For other motives also? One day it will be known.

***

In any case, I repeat without hesitation: In their day-to-day life, the visionaries were simple, obedient, charitable — especially Mari Cruz who has remained that way — hardworking, humble, pure, worthy of example. If they acquired faults that they did not have at the start, the visitors are responsible; that’s my conviction.

Memoirs of a Spanish Country Priest (Chapter V)

CHAPTER V

August 23rd, 1961

Pastor for a Day at Garabandal

The next morning, while leaving the portico after celebrating Mass, I saw Father Valentín about 30 meters away, conversing near a small bridge that, at that time, crossed over a narrow creek. The dear pastor left Father Ramón Andreu and immediately came up to me.

— “By order of the Commission, you must leave the village.”

— “I know that already.” I responded calmly, “And I also know that you and Father Ramón have to leave, too.”

— “No?”

— “Yes. I heard it yesterday night from the mouth of one of your two confreres. Personally, I really regret having to leave, because I had the intention of staying a little longer here. I must say that I really like this place.”

Then Father Valentín rejoined Father Ramón and the two spoke for a few seconds. He returned to me:

— “Listen. We’ve considered something else. I consider it a duty to leave to make a report to the bishop about the events of these last days. Today you will take my place as pastor. Here is the key to the church of Garabandal.”

I was not only very happy to be able to stay another day longer, but before the trust of this priest, who did not know me, I felt a great peace come over my sacerdotal heart. Other impressions both very strong and very gentle — unforgettable — penetrated my soul.

Father Ramón — we also did not know each other — came near. I took the occasion to tell him:

— “Father, I’m disposed to writing directly to the Apostolic Administrator, Bishop Doroteo.”

— “Why?”

— “To inform him of the very poor impression that this Commission has made on me.”

— “I myself was in the church last night with five or six priests from outside the diocese. We saw and heard everything. We talked about the attitude of the Commission after its departure, and even while it was acting. You are right; follow your idea. It appears good to me.”

As I said previously, on returning to Barro, I did what I had planned.

***

I repeat again: this day of August 23rd, spent as an interim pastor in Garabandal, remains unforgettable for me.

At nightfall, Father Ramón took me aside:

— “Father Valentín is not coming up from Cosío today. However, he brought back from Santander a decision from the bishop: the church door should be kept closed during the children’s ecstasies. No more ecstasies in the church from now on. What are you going to do?”

— “I will obey.”

And so, without expecting it, it was I, a priest from the archdiocese of Oviedo, who for the first and last time closed the door of the house of God to the young girls in ecstasy. Yes, I had to forbid them never to enter when they were seeing the Virgin, the Mother of the Jesus really present in the Tabernacle. This also was part of my unforgettable memories.

***

Permit me to relate something which seems particularly important. Not only was I an eyewitness, but I participated actively in an event that I can recall as if it were yesterday.

It was still the 23rd of August, 1961. After the recitation of the rosary, as was the custom, the girls fell into ecstasy under the portico. Two by two, they went through the village. In accordance with the decision from Santander, I locked the door behind me, remaining in place, waiting for what would happen. After some time, Loli and Jacinta, in ecstasy, returned to the church to enter it and pray as usual. Suddenly, apparently due to a compelling command received from someone, they stopped — abruptly, I might say — in front of me.

I was then in front of the locked door, my back turned toward it. Loli and Jacinta were in front of me, five meters away, at the entry to the outside portico. They were completely unaware, by human knowledge, of what I had done, since it was known only by the Apostolic Administrator or the Diocese Commission who had given the order, Father Valentín, Father Ramón Andreu and I myself.

Loli began speaking very distinctly and furthermore, not in a the low voice, very low, that the visionaries always had in speaking to their Vision:

— “Why is the church closed to us? . . . But we are not coming to do anything bad . . . Well! If it is not open to us, we will not enter it any more . . . ”

Convinced that they certainly would not hear me, since I was not participating in their ecstasy, I responded nevertheless:

— “You are right my children, but it is necessary to obey . . .”

Loli and Jacinta, still in ecstasy, made a half turn in a docile manner, and I heard one of the persons who accompanied them:

— “Father, you are doing your duty.”

***

Everyone could observe that from that August 23, 1961, the seers, when they were in ecstasy, never again entered the church, strictly obeying the order from Santander, not knowing whether it came from Bishop Doroteo or the Commission alone. When their ecstatic journey brought them to the church, they went around the walls with those who were accompanying them while singing the Salve Regina or reciting their very stirring rosary. There was a time when they fell violently on their knees, risking breaking them on the threshold of the closed door. Then occurred the exquisite ceremony of the exchange of kisses with the Virgin and the end of the group ecstasy.

Then after this interdiction, Conchita and Loli, in ecstasy, never received Holy Communion in the church from the hand of the angel. He gave It to them under the portico.

I stayed another day, the third, at Garabandal. The hours didn’t just pass; I felt they flew.

After that Garabandal has always revived my spirits. At that time it was most unexpected and sudden as lightening in the sky.

Also after that I used all the opportunities that presented themselves to go up again to that cherished little village where I have passed, where I still pass, the best days of my priestly life.

Memoirs of a Spanish Country Priest (Chapter IV)

CHAPTER IV

Continuation of August 22nd, 1961

The Diocesan Commission

On this night of August 22^nd, 1961, several members of the Diocesan Commission had gone up to Garabandal, completely incognito. I was not aware of them, and it was only later that I learned their names. There were at least two clergy, a doctor anesthetist — not a psychiatrist as has been said mockingly — and an amateur photographer.

We are going to see them “operate,” I might say, and hear them also. And I do not hesitate to express my opinion, in stating clearly that it is absolutely objective since it was mine at the time of the facts, although I was completely unaware of the identity and especially the character of those involved.

They came into the church at the same time that the children were in ecstasy in front of the crowd.

One of them, a layman, (I was to learn that he was a doctor of anesthesiology, Dr. Pinal) without further ado, said in a very loud voice:

— “So, the comedy is continuing?”

At that very moment, kneeling in front of me, Dr. Celestino Ortiz, a distinguished pediatrician from Santander who had followed the matter from the beginning, was taking Conchita’s pulse. He wanted to see if the seer’s running through the village had changed the heartbeat more than at other times. Without raising his head, and continuing his important examination, Dr. Ortiz responded tartly:

— “If there’s a comedian here, it has to be you. The sanctuary of a church is not the place to speak like this, and still less in public.”

His work finished, Dr. Ortiz got up and the two doctors recognized each other.

— “Oh, it’s you Piñal?”

— “Ortiz, we must discuss some things in the sacristy.”

— “In the sacristy, agreed. There you can tell me what you think is proper.”

And the two doctors left the sanctuary.

And so on that day the medical study of the ecstasies by the doctor of the Commission ended. As I see it, I am inclined to think that the scientific work was finished before it began… How different from the professional conscientiousness of Dr. Ortiz, a prominent pediatrician, who I had just seen on his knees next to Conchita, whispering:

— “There are no more pulses than in the normal state.”

Now I understand the trust that everyone gives to his medical observations and his conclusions with regard to the apparitions.

***

Let us proceed, very objectively also, to the attitude of the two priests of whom, may I be allowed to insist, I knew neither the names nor the functions.

The first went up to the sanctuary. His back turned to the Blessed Sacrament, the visionaries at his feet in ecstasy, facing the crowd, in a loud voice, he resolved the problem in a definitive manner:

— “Whatever happens, I don’t believe in this.”

The second, also in the sanctuary, was speaking with a layman and telling him:

— “I have taught philosophy for five years and theology for ten!”

Undoubtedly he wished to convince the person with whom he was speaking that he had the knowledge necessary to be entitled to express his agreement with the incredible words of his comrade and colleague of the Commission. To myself I thought, “What kind of philosophy? What kind of theology? Had he also been by chance a professor, for example, in ascetic and mystic theology, the only one competent on that evening?”

The second priest retired and his companion greeted me with these words:

— “I am the photographer.”

&#— “Professional?”

— “No, not professional, amateur.”

My heart jumped since I use a camera and know something about it.

— “Oh, your camera’s automatic, with a flash and loaded with color film?”

— “Yes,” he answered.

— “Look then. You are going to miss a gorgeous picture! Look at Jacinta and Loli on their knees on the altar step. What grace, what an extraordinary pose!”

— “Father, I have finished my work, I’ve taken the pictures that are necessary.”

— “Really!”

— “Certainly.”

If I would have known then that this was the photographer from the Commission, perhaps I would have lost the interior composure that the circumstances required. Why? Because I would have had the same conviction that I have today. The Commission should have been accompanied by a professional photographer to take all the pictures that were important, useful, from all possible angles. How else could the study be objective, honest, and complete?

Today I am glad to have been unaware on that evening of the identity and the mission of the four persons who remain present in my memory, as if I were still in the sanctuary of the church at Garabandal.

What did I think at the time?

— Was the layman from Santander proclaiming the comedy a doctor?

And Ortiz then?

— The abrupt and closed judgment of the first priest?

It was inconceivable. It smacked of prejudice and the ridiculous.

— The second priest?

Was he conceited or worse?

— The photographer?

He surely did not know his trade or like it.

— My conclusion?

I was not in agreement, and I held my own personal opinion.

***

I stayed in the church until 11 o’clock, in front of the Blessed Sacrament. I prayed, I reflected, and I also listened very attentively from my place to all that I could hear. This was not difficult, since everything was said in a loud voice and nothing appeared to be secret.

It was then that I understood perfectly, for example, pronouncements from the mouth of one of the two priests:

— “We are going to close the church to this cult.”

— “We will give Father Valentín a month’s vacation. Since he is so upset now, he will gladly accept.”

— “We will give the Jesuit priest, (Father Ramón Andreu) the order to leave.”

— “We will forbid priests to come up to the village.”

— “And if this comes from God, it will make its own way.”

***

“Really!” I said to myself, “This is a fine way of proceeding and acting, when studying such important events! Is Pilate being resurrected? In any case, this is a new Praetorium and once again the washing of hands...”

***

During this time, the Bishop of Santander, would have thought his delegates were working at Garabandal as true men of the church, as true doctors, and as a real photographer should work with professional and religious conscientiousness. The various “Notas” have been dictated, relying on these disputable foundations, and I have every reason to believe no other more serious, more solid efforts have been made. The visionaries have told me many times:

— “The Commission came up here very seldom; it never concerned itself with us. It questioned only some persons from the village chosen from those who didn’t believe in the apparitions or doubted them.”

I did not think that these gentlemen were concerned with me personally. I was wrong. Exactly at 11 PM, Father Valentín came up to me:

— “The Commission has ordered me to tell you that it is time for you to leave the church.”

A slight consolation, nevertheless: at the door, two policemen, placed there to keep order in case they were needed, greeted me with a friendly smile.

Memoirs of a Spanish Country Priest (Chapter III)

CHAPTER III

August 22nd, 1961

My first visit to Garabandal was the consequence of a casual conversation with the Cure of San Claudio at Leon, Father Manuel Anton. He was taking his vacation at Barro where I had recently taken charge of the parish. He spoke to me about events which were taking place in a diocese near to Santander, 57 kilometers from my place. He told me that apparitions had started on the previous June 18, less than two months before my arrival at Barro on the following August 10. I questioned him briefly and the interview aroused my curiosity.

I set out with my father on a motorcycle on August 22, led on, I admit, by curiosity. As we were coming from Barro it was necessary to go up and descend until reaching Cosío, and from there climb 600 meters higher by a very bad road. At the last turn on this difficult climb Garabandal appeared, a little village of 270 people, humble, very plain, isolated to itself, but charming. In front of us, above the houses , about 200 meters higher, was a grove of 9 pine trees on the first ramp of the mountains. On the horizon at the left was Pena Sagra; we were on the foothills of the Picos de Europa.

My first question was not long in coming. “When will the apparitions take place?” Someone answered me, “Father, these strange happenings begin at nightfall. After the recitation of the rosary in the church, the children usually fall into ecstasy under the church portico.”

We had to stay longer than we thought since the motorcycle which had brought the two of us, worn down after Cosío, did not want to go on. My father, who had an appointment with his doctor on the following day at Oviedo, therefore left alone by taxi. I learned later of happenings on the trip that were truly providential.

While waiting for the rosary, I familiarized myself with the winding and rocky little alleys, talking with a priest from Burgos and observing the visionaries from afar. “Three of them are 12 years of age,” my companion said, “The fourth is 11; but all of them appear to have the education of 7 year old children from our cities.”

***

The first one that I encountered was Loli. She was running around a jeep parked in front of the door of the house where she lived. Afterwards Mari Cruz and Conchita, who were accustomed to go out together. Jacinta, I did not see until the evening while in ecstasy.

I took some photographs of Mari Cruz and Loli which I carefully keep with many others. Around the neck they wore rosaries and chains with medals. Some one informed me, “During their ecstasies they give them to the Vision to kiss. They belong to persons gathered in the village, brought there by curiosity or simple faith.”

“At the beginning,” someone added, “They presented — for the Vision to kiss — little stones which they had picked up from the streets and which they later gave to those around them. You won’t see them present these little stones anymore, for the visionaries have now gone on to religious articles.”

***

At nightfall, on this August 22, 1961, I returned to the church near the altar of the Blessed Sacrament in the sanctuary.

It seemed simple and welcoming to me, this small church of the mountain, dedicated to St. Sebastian, whose feast the parishioners had obtained permission to celebrate in the summer, following a solemn procession, on the 18th of July.

In the middle of the retable, above and behind the tabernacle, is the statue of the glorious martyr, commander of the Praetorian Guard of the Emperor Diocletien. On each side on a pedestal is a large statue: the one is the Sacred Heart of Jesus; the other is the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

At the entry to the church, at the right, is the altar of the Immaculate Conception. The Virgin wears a white robe and a blue mantle, which has led someone to say that this statue influenced the girls before the apparitions began. This proves that whoever said it was completely unaware of how our Lady of Mount Carmel was dressed when she appeared to St. Simon Stock in 1251, more than 700 years ago. On the other side of the church, the gospel side, there is another altar with a statue of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. This time — to refute completely the argument — clothed all in brown. In a dark chapel in the back of the church, behind grates, is the baptismal font.

There is a choir loft, filled with men on Sundays. The entrance is on the left side of the church. A massive tower, with bells sounding in all directions, is climbed from outside by an attached stone stairway under an overhang on the right side of the entrance. Under the portico roof is a stone bench where the pastor at the time, Father Valentín Marichalar, had the habit of sitting with his parishioners to chat a little before the services.

***

Now I return to my first entrance into the church. I deliberately chose the first step in the sanctuary on the left side of the altar, reflecting, “If this is from God, it is here I will see the most important things.” To a woman who had come up to the village for the first time like myself, I told my feelings. And that is what happened.

I prayed with devotion and implored Our Lord to soon clarify the meaning of these events. It was not to be that way on that 22nd of August, 1961. His judgments are different from those of men, and especially my own, because He knows in advance the best way to act and the hour to be awaited. We have already mentioned that He alone can write straight with curved lines.

On that day, as if by chance, in Garabandal were five priests from Asturias of my archdiocese of Llanes and a canon from our cathedral of Oviedo. With them was a Jesuit priest who several months later was to become one of my best friends: Father Ramón Maria Andreu Rodamillans.

The holy rosary was recited, led by Father Andreu, since he was a Jesuit religious. Before beginning he spoke some words from the foot of the altar. “These happenings are worthy of attention.” he said, “Here is a field of study for theologians, mystics, psychologists, psychiatrists, medical doctors.” However he did not speak in public of the supernatural. Contrary to what was falsely reported, the word was never used.

The rosary finished and the people having left the church, muffled noises could be heard outside and a voice that was repeating, “The children are already in ecstasy.”

The pastor, Father Valentín, came up to me to ask me to close the church in order to prevent the spectators from re-entering when the children came back. “It is not possible,” he explained, “To repeat what happened on the previous days. There was such a crowd that the people climbed up on the pulpit, on top of the pews, breaking everything. They seemed to have little respect for the holy place where they were.”

I was not enthusiastic about doing what he told me, for I felt that it was impossible to control such a numerous and curious crowd. I told him so frankly. He retorted sharply, “But they’ll respect your decision better than mine. Do it.”

Arriving in ecstasy at the church, Mari Cruz tripped over the doorway and fell inside near the altar of the Immaculate Conception. The other three, also in ecstasy, fell on top of her, and formed with her a human sculptural tableau of admirable elegance. I am not able to describe it because of its incredible harmony and inexpressible splendor. Nor could I describe my astonishment. In spite of the sudden fall and the unexpected position that resulted, the girls’ clothes remained in their walking position, and their dresses covered even their knees. To the splendor and harmony of the picture was added the most exquisite Christian modesty.

Getting up without assistance and gracefulness, raised up as if by an interior force, the children left the church and made their way through the village still in ecstasy.

On my part, I returned to the altar slowly, having only one concern: to pray interiorly to the Blessed Sacrament and ask Him with insistence to enlighten the Bishop of Santander and those who were charged with studying such activities.

Several times the children returned to the church two by two: Conchita and Mari Cruz; Jacinta and Loli. They came to place themselves close to me on the first step of the altar. I had only to turn my head slightly, to see perfectly the unfolding of these phenomenon, mystical at first glance. They prayed with fervor and with a hushed voice in front of the tabernacle. All their appearance was of admirable beauty, the head tilted backwards, the face transparent, as if lit up from the interior by a light which would have been dazzling had it not been tempered by a beautiful softness.

Memoirs of a Spanish Country Priest (Chapter II)

Bishop Puchol Montis

CHAPTER II

Sacerdotal Obedience

It appears important for me to present the moral justification of my trips to Garabandal, in spite of “Notas” forbidding it and repeated warnings from the Bishop of Santander.

On August 23, 1961 I wrote to the Apostolic Administrator of the diocese which is not mine, Bishop Doroteo Fernandez of the Diocese of Garabandal itself, at a time when there was still no “Nota” on this matter. In loyalty I wanted to make him aware of my feelings about those who were said to be members of the Diocesan Commission, which I had just met in the village at the time of my first visit. (I will speak later about this meeting, which I consider very important.)

In essence, I said two things to Bishop Fernandez:

1. That I could not commend this Commission.

2. That in my opinion it should be changed.

***

Shortly after the first “Nota” from Santander, dated August 26, 1961, I wrote two other letters: one to my own bishop, the Archbishop of Oviedo, my diocese, Monsignor Segundo Sierra Mendez, the other to the Apostolic Administrator of Santander just mentioned. I requested from each of them permission to make a 10 day retreat: “at a place that appeared to me to be very suitable for recollection, namely Garabandal itself.” At the same time, I expressed clearly the desire to be able to study the ecstasies carefully and on location.

My own archbishop did not answer. On the contrary, Bishop Doroteo did answer to acknowledge receipt of my previous letter of August 23.

He wrote me the following: 1.“You are aware through the press that the presence of priests is not desirable at Garabandal. As a consequence, I cannot give you written authorization.” 2. “The prohibition made in the “Nota” (of August 26, 1961) is not formal.” 3. “I thank you for your letter of August 23 and the evaluation that it gives me on the Commission.”

Concealed in a way, the words appeared clear to me: They gave me a way out, an exit, and I understood that I could use the opportunities that I had at hand.

***

Besides the occasions that presented themselves sporadically, but rather frequently, I went up to the village each summer for 10-15 days.

Prior to going, I would write the bishop then in charge at Santander, to notify him of my plans and to list the dates. I would add, each time, “Excellency, if you forbid me, let me know. If you permit me, it is not necessary to inform me.” I never received a negative response.

One year, not having time to write Bishop Beotia in adequate time, I called him directly by telephone.

“You can go up to Garabandal as often as you want,” he answered me, “But understand clearly that you, the priests that go up there frequently, should refrain from giving public testimony on these events.”

***

During the reign of Bishop Puchol, (may he rest in peace), I did not think it opportune to ask permission. I went up the road from Cosío to the village, but I did not enter the village itself. I did not cross the boundaries until after that “Nota” of March 17, 1967 which everyone knows about.

Did not the “Nota” say that everything could be explained naturally, that everything was only “an innocent game of children”? It affirmed that “nothing at all” had happened at Garabandal. Since it was like this, the prohibition obviously lacked all jurisdictional basis.

After that, I went up frequently to the place, even to the present time.

Memoirs of a Spanish Country Priest (Chapter I)

PICTURE: Father Jose Ramon contributing his
"very little" in helping with the work of harvesting.

CHAPTER I

Opening Statements and the Contradictions

I am very familiar with the apparitions of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel and St. Michael the Archangel in the small village of St. Sebastian de Garabandal, in the province and diocese of Santander.

I was a witness by eye, by ear also, of approximately 200 ecstasies. I heard the thoughts of the visionaries during the time of their tests, which followed the period of their absolute certainty. I have kept many letters that they wrote to me, especially at the beginning of the events. What I’ve seen, heard, and sometimes touched with my own hands, I now give public testimony with the humble and devout loyalty of a priest.

It is a well-known truth that God has His time and His affairs with men, even though in reality even when using them, God Himself does everything. At Garabandal, the work of God is clearly visible if one gives attention above all to the totality of the events and the persons who are involved in them. The events follow one after the other; human beings reveal their true — character and allow us to observe their special roles. Everything and everyone involved accomplish a divine work in a manner complex and at the same time simple.

I might say that God acts, as in a marionette theatre, not to entertain, but to instruct and teach us. He directs the marionettes according to a plot He has designed, and He manipulates them according to His pleasure, depending on their submission. At times, or even frequently, men refuse to play their parts, obstruct or disturb the plot, with or without malice. Fortunately, it is always true that Providence writes straight with curved lines to portray the works of men and especially those of God.

These recollections encompass the eight years from 1961 to 1968. And so they embraced a period after 1966 — the period of the visionaries tests in regard to the truth of their apparitions. I am not going to speak at length about this, but I want to say some words here to show that God has not changed his way of writing the story of man.

In 1961, two months after the events started, the young girls in ecstasy said to the Virgin, whom they were seeing, to whom they were speaking: “How could we say one day that we have not seen you, since we are seeing you?” That was plain and logical.

Then would come the time of denials, or to be more accurate, the time of contradictions. It appears that even at the periods of their return to certainty, mysterious darkness still tortured them, in spite of their apparent peace. I have written “the time of contradictions” for at least as far as Conchita, Loli, and Jacinta are concerned — examining their answers carefully — there has never been a question of definite, absolute denial.

Who could understand this test without referring it to the mystery of Providence?

Especially if one considers what I am going to add by way of example, staying within the limits of my knowledge of the subject.

In the middle of the period of denials, or rather “contradictions” Conchita was staying in her school at Burgos and Loli in her school at Balmori, my district. Father Morelos, a priest who was Mexican and therefore spoke their language, presented to each one a picture of our Lady of Garabandal painted by an artist from his country named Octavio. Separated the one from the other by many kilometers, their response was identical. “This picture does not look like the One we saw. Our Lady does not have a crown resting on her head like this one, but a diadem of 12 stars forming a circle behind her head, starting at the bottom of her ears. She did not have her head bowed. Her hair fell on her shoulders. She did not have a waistband. On her right wrist, she carried a scapular in the form of a maniple; the bands of this were longer than those of your picture. On one side there was a mountain; on the other side a cross.”

I was present at the conversation in Balmori. When she finished, I asked the visionary a question: “Did you see her, yes or no?” She blushed and with a smile that was both embarrassed and exquisite, she answered as usual, “Well! At least that is who we say we have seen!”

That was in 1967.

***

One year later, on the evening of August 18, 1968, I was in Garabandal. I read a letter dated on that day which Conchita had written to a woman from Santander, in which she gave her opinion about a picture of the Virgin painted by a foreign artist. “No,” she said. “I don’t like the Infant Jesus at all. He does not resemble Him in anything. His eyes were dark brown in color. His face was not so round. His arms were more outstretched and pointing downwards.”

With regard to the Virgin, she noted: “I like her better than the one painted at Barcelona. Her face is more human and true to life, although one can never paint the Virgin the way she really is.”

At that time, if I would have asked Conchita the same question as Loli in Balmori, would I have received the same answer? It is quite possible.

***

I leave these matters to whomever (in the face of the apparent contradictions of the visionaries) would want to make an extensive study of the events of Garabandal.

In addition, with the sole purpose of filling in spaces in the other reports and writings, I am going to recount simply, by pen, what I have seen, what I have heard, what I have been able to testify to, having observed these things during my numerous and frequent trips to the village.