She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 17)

Left to right: Loli, Conchita, Mari Cruz, Jacinta

On the next day, Tuesday, the village attitude was about the same, although the number of suspicious and hostile comments was increasing.

Since we hadn't seen anything on June 19th, they thought that he wouldn't appear to us again.
But they didn't know what had happened to us during the night — what we hadn't told anyone.

While going to school Conchita learned that during the night her three companions had received the same assurance as she, You will see me again. And so they were full of secret joy and predisposed to face the various incidents of the day.

The day passed like all the others, without anything worthy of special mention, until the midafternoon hour came when the children, having left the classroom, asked for their lunches.(11) The four visionaries, besides asking for their lunches, also asked with much more insistence for a special permission—to go together to pray in the Calleja.

But they ran into difficulties.

My mother, and also the parents, brothers, and sisters of the other girls were worried.
They had a very great conflict, for if they leaned to what was true, they also thought the opposite.

And there was above all the burden of human respect, the fear of being ridiculous that is so constraining in the small towns.

At first Aniceta showed herself completely intractable.

If you want to pray, go to the church; the calleja isn't the place.

Conchita implored, but without result. Fortunately Loli, Jacinta, and Mari Cruz then arrived, and they had already obtained permission to go.

—Please, Señora. Let Conchita go. Let her go!
—But why do you want to go make fools of yourselves?
—We aren't going to make fools of ourselves! We are going to pray, and to see if the Angel comes!
—No. Conchita isn't going. You can go if you want.
They left, but very slowly, until they no longer could be seen because of a wall in the way.
I remained, very sad.
My mother suddenly changed her mind, and with a loud voice called: Loli. Tell the other girls to come here.
Soon they arrived, and my mother said to them, If you do what I tell you, I'll let Conchita go.

A simple strategy had occurred to Aniceta to protect herself from insult and ridicule in case things did not come out as the girls expected:

You three go alone now, as if you were going to play there, without saying anything to anyone.
And when you arrive at the calleja, Conchita will go secretly, so that no one will notice.

Loli, Jacinta, and Mari Cruz were not very convinced, afraid that Aniceta was not speaking seriously. But they began to walk . . . slower and slower. Conchita had to reassure them that she would come. And a little later she did come. She found them complaining about her being late. But their displeasure soon passed and the four, very happy, knelt down on the rocks of the calleja and began to recite the rosary. Very hopeful in the beginning, their anxiety increased as the beads passed through their fingers.

When they had finished, the Angel had not come.(12)
We decided to go to the church.
And when we got up, since we were on our knees, we saw a very brilliant light surrounding the four of us.
We saw nothing else except the light.
And we screamed with fear.

The light, though blinding, did not blind them; but it encircled them resplendently, isolated them from everything, and blacked out the road. From this came a sensation of constriction —fear— that left them lost and floating in mystery, adrift in something completely unknown that they could not comprehend.(13)

The second day, Monday the 19th, they were made to pass through the experience of, It is not he who wishes or he who runs. (Romans 9: 16) That is to say, it did not depend mainly on themselves whether or not this series of miraculous contacts with the Infinite Unknown would occur. Everything depended on Him Who is high above all things. At the same time, so that they wouldn't fall into anxious dejection, He gave them a pledge that what they had seen on the previous evening was something very real — with a reason and a meaning — and that it was only the beginning of something more.

From this they were specially prepared for the third day, June 20th, with the phenomenon of the blinding light surrounding them, blacking out the road and isolating them from everything. Their spirit and eyes had to be made ready to pass with a form of natural agility from the dull world of day to day living to a higher world of wonders flooded with brilliance. In this world of light they would have to encounter —alone— elements extremely far above all those things that made up their daily existence.

For this, even the calleja —the path previously seen by the four village girls — would be blocked out by the mystery of the light, revealing a new destiny, at the time well hidden in the secret designs of God. So the children's startled reaction of fear can be understood — and their screams, which seem to be an unconscious pathetic call for help and explanation. It is never painless to be brusquely taken away from one's normal way of living.

11. The lunches taken in the afternoon almost always consisted of bread and something to go with it. The children did not ordinarily stay home to eat. They came home, asked for lunch, got it, and went back to eat with their schoolmates.

12. In Conchita’s diary the Angel is always written in capitals, so as to make it understood that she is discussing a very important and distinguished angel.

13. Prudencio González was one of the residents of the village who did not take the four girls’ story seriously. She laughed at the foolishness that the people were talking so much about. But that evening she was coming down the calleja with a herd of sheep, and suddenly coming out of the shadows, she had before her eyes the group of four young girls completely alone and outside of themselves. The scene impressed her. Her sheep were going toward the village, closing off her path between the rocks that formed the sides of the calleja. As well as she could, she slid carefully between two of the girls. She had to lean on one of the girl’s shoulders and her impression —as she admitted later—was tremendous, as if she were touching a mystery. The shoulder did not seem to be soft warm flesh, but rather something rigid and cold, trembling.

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 16)

Conchita with her mother Anicita & brothers

It was a dark evening, overcast. The sky was full of clouds and it was very windy.

Things finally quieted down and the girls prolonged their prayer, hoping to see the Angel come. But the Angel did not come. The calleja, which a little while later would be for them a little bit of heaven (as Conchita referred to it) was on the evening of June 19th, under a cloudy sky, with the derisive laughter, the stones, and the blowing wind above, an unpleasant scene of painful disillusion.

Why didn't the Angel come? Would he perhaps come at another time?

When it became late — it was 8:30 — they lifted their bare knees off the stones of the rocky road, and went down toward the church.

Before arriving there, they met the schoolmistress. She tried to raise their spirits with a childish explanation that they probably did not believe at the time:

Do you know why he hasn't come?
Surely it's because it's so cloudy.

In the church they made a visit to the Blessed Sacrament.

The girls themselves could not explain the unusual connection that seemed to unite the calleja with the church. In the calleja nothing had been said to them, not a word of explanation, nor a command, nor even a simple request, and they were uneducated children; but a mysterious instinct brought them from the one place to the other. Yes, what they had seen with their eyes of flesh, surrounded by light in the calleja, had guided them firmly and gently to the One there in the church, Who can only be found with the eyes of faith amid the shadows of mystery. In the former place was the wonder of the vision, within the latter was the true security of Him Who is always a Refuge, Who cannot deceive.

A Light in the Way

After their visit to the Blessed Sacrament, the girls walked home. As night fell over Garabandal, darkness fell over the spirits of the four little peasant girls.

As soon as her daughter appeared in the kitchen, Aniceta asked: Did you see the Angel?

The same question must have been heard in the homes of the other three; and the answers must have all been the same as Conchita's response to her mother:

No. Today we didn't see him!
Then I went about my work as usual.

Yes, work as usual was what remained. As if the day before had been no more than a meaningless flash of light in the somber life of a village child. Everything would be forgotten little by little, and finally there would only remain the dismal monotony of her poor daily surroundings and work as usual.

No wonder that after supper as she went to bed at a quarter to ten she was not able to sleep. Her adolescent mild was filled with dejection:

Since I couldn't sleep, I started to pray.
And then I heard a voice that said to me, Don't be troubled; you will see me again.

The voice left a deep impression and Conchita continued praying, although with a much different state of mind. She went on praying for a long time until finally she fell asleep. And so with a finale of prayer the day of June 19th, 1961 ended; a day of excitement in Garabandal, full of contrasting feelings and contrasting words, varying between hope and fear, between disbelief and desire.

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 15)

—I answered, It's certain that we saw an Angel! —She continued to question me, How did you see him?
—I explained it to her in such a way that she listened very closely.
—And then smiling, she said to me, Since I have a good opinion of you, I believe that you saw the Angel. But the others: No!
—Then I said to her, But all four of us saw him
— Loli, Jacinta, Mari Cruz and I myself!

When I came home with the milk, I said to my mother, Mama, I'm going to pray in the Calleja. This was heard by a stonemason named Pepe Díez,(9) who was there working to repair our house, and also by my brother Aniceto, who was helping him.
—Then Pepe said laughing: Yes, Yes, let her go. Why not let her go pray? —My brother objected to this: Conchita, don't let it happen! The people will laugh at you and at us too. They will say that you are going around saying that you are seeing an Angel. And that you are lying.

But the desire of meeting the marvelous apparition again attracted the girl too much, and she did not leave her mother in peace until she obtained permission to go to the calleja. Soon she met the other three, and joining arms, they went in the direction of the calleja. They encountered an unbelieving and hostile crowd that questioned them and made jokes about them, since no one believed in the apparition; or rather no one wanted to expose himself to ridicule before the more sophisticated villagers by showing any belief in the strange story of the four little girls.(10)

But people followed them secretly, especially some rude young boys who wanted to show their beginning manhood by vulgarly interfering with the girls. The four girls began to pray in the calleja; but it wasn't possible to concentrate on their prayers because of the little band of ruffians with disheveled hair and dirty faces, who started throwing stones at them, accompanying their missiles with laughs, insults and other words.

9. This man is worked as a stonemason in the village; he is one of the best informed witnesses of the Garabandal events. His wife is Clementina González, from whom he had four children at the time. Conchita wrote these things in her diary more than a year after they happened. And perhaps, as they were side-lights to the really important events, she did not record them accurately. Concerning the conversation with the stonemason Pepe Díez, we have information from his wife Clementina which complements and enlarges on what Conchita gives. Clementina states that on that day Pepe tried to prevent the girls from what could have been a dangerous episode by threatening them . . . He spoke to Conchita in this manner: Listen, child, what kind of tale are you telling about the apparition of an angel? Don’t you know how serious this is? . . . Don’t go on with this foolishness. If you continue with this, I’ll report it to the police, and they’ll come, take statements, and submit you to questioning . . . And you might end up in jail . . . And the trouble might involve your families . . . Embarrassment . . . Shame . . . Disgrace . . . You are not the type of girl that plays around with such things . . . Then in a similar tone, in a way to intimidate them, he spoke to the other three girls when they came looking for Conchita. They listened, a little frightened, but didn’t reply. Finally they said what they were going to do, and that they had not made up anything. And could they be allowed to go in case the Angel came back?

10. The population of La Montaña (Santander) are intelligent by nature and not easily taken in. They are serious people, hardly naïve, and cautious to the extreme in not being taken advantage of in business or in assuming a stance that would have to be abandoned later.

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 14)

Loli

Yes, what the girls say is very possible, although not so easy to believe. Why would an angel come to Garabandal? And did he really come? That was the most important: to establish the truth of the matter. It would be just as foolish to believe everything right away as to close one's mind in an obstinate It cannot be. Father Valentín had to know the first lines of the last book of scripture: The Revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave unto him, to make known to His servants the things which must shortly come to pass: and signified, sending his angel to His servant John. (Apocalypse 1: 1) He must have read too that passage from the book of Exodus: (23: 20-21) Behold I will send my angel who shall go before you, and keep you in your journey, and bring you into the place that I have prepared. Take notice of him and hear his voice.

The girls were talking about remarkable things; however Father Valentín knew them well, and it did not enter his mind that they invented this. Before anything else, he had to find out what had happened. Conchita promised that she would try to get the answer to his two questions. Then he directed his footsteps to Loli's home.(6)

Loli responded the same as the rest of us.
And so he was more and more impressed because the four of us agreed in everything.(7)

Finally he said: Good, we are going to wait two or three days to see what he will tell you and whether you are going to continue to see this figure that you call an Angel . . . Then I will go to the Bishop.(8)

The girls ate, probably in a hurry as is the custom in the village, and with no more ceremony than to say grace. Then they went back to school which re-opened at 3 o'clock. Toward 5:00 the classes finished and the girls were free to play or do their housework.

I went to the house of the woman from whom we buy milk, and she said to me, Is it true that you saw an Angel? Or is this a thing that the people are saying?

6. This was a typical ancient village house, looking out over a little square. Later the Mazón family moved into the house next door which also faced the little square; here their small business was continued.

7. Through a careful interrogation, conducted separately on each girl, it would have been impossible to find such agreement if all this had been only a game, and even less would there have been agreement if these things had been staged or fabricated by the girls. Furthermore, Father Valentín knew them well, and was aware of their sincerity and great reverence for everything religious.

8. At this time, Bishop Doroteo Fernández, the former auxiliary bishop under the recently deceased Bishop José Eguino y Trecu, was the head of the diocese of Santander. Bishop Doroteo had been born in León and was a professor at the major seminary there where he was named the Apostolic Administrator for the Santander Diocese. Certainly neither his assignment nor his arrival in the Capital of Santander could be called warm among influential ecclesiastics. In spite of the fact that he had the rank of a bishop, he was placed somewhat out of the way, with his actions limited to being rector of the seminary of Corbán, not far from Santander. Here after a few years the situation was in turmoil; these were the first advance signs of what later would become the general open confusion in the Church.

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 13)

Fr. Valentin poses with the visionaries.

Jacinta and Mari Cruz went together and met the parish priest, Father Valentín Marichalar.(3)
—Very alarmed, he said to them: Look here, look here! Is it true that you saw an angel?
—They answered together: Yes Father, it's true.
—Perhaps . . . Perhaps you may be mistaken.
—Smiling they said to him: No. Don't be afraid that we saw an Angel.(4)

Then they went toward their homes.
The parish priest walked around to see where he could find me.
Finding me near my home,(5) he became very nervous and said to me, Conchita, be honest. What did you see last night?
I explained everything to him . . . and he listened very closely, and finally said to me: Well, if you see him tonight, ask him who he is and why he is coming.
See what he answers.

The priest's reaction was perfectly logical. He knew that what the girls said was completely possible. God concerns himself deeply with His human creatures, especially within the church. Although His concern comes to fall almost always within what we call ordinary providence (that is, without recourse to spectacular intervention), there is no difficulty for Him to go beyond the ordinary when it suits His pleasure and is helpful to His creatures. And the angels are His ministers above all to protect and aid mankind. Father Valentín could not have forgotten those beautiful texts from the liturgy of October 2nd that set down so highly the ministry of the angels on our behalf.

3. Father Valentín resided in Cossío where he was the parish priest, but he had to go up to San Sebastián frequently since he was also in charge of that parish.

4. Although Father Valentín did not hold the same feelings as the old Israelites for whom it was impossible to see an angel of Yahweh, and not die, he certainly could not exclude the
possibility of an angel’s supernatural intervention in the village. What consequences that could cause!

5. Conchita’s house was at the extreme edge of the village, directly opposite the church and school, with a view upwards towards the Pines and downwards toward the valley where the
Molinos River flowed.

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 12)

CHAPTER TWO
PREPARING THE WAY

When Garabandal awoke on the 19th of June, one topic monopolized all the conversations in the kitchens(1) and on the streets.

You haven't heard? . . . What they saw? . . . Yes, that's what they said; but you'll have to find out for yourself! . . . Anyhow, something strange must have happened to the children because . . . What happened? . . . I am going to ask María and Aniceta . . .

What Would An Angel Be Doing in Garabandal?

When we got up, the people had begun to talk:
—Those four girls saw something since they came down with such expressions!
—It could have been one of those big birds, since it was dark . . .
—Or perhaps some little boy surprised them while they . . .
—Or they were dreaming . . .
—Well, everyone had his own idea about the thing.
It was a day in which they talked about nothing else.

Not surprising! Nothing like it had ever happened at San Sebastián de Garabandal. While the people there were used to thinking about God, they never would have thought that they would come in contact with Him beyond His mysterious veil—on a streetcorner! Every Sunday, while reciting the Credo at Mass, they alleged their belief in an all powerful God Who had created not
only the world of visible things, but also another world of invisible ones. But how could anyone expect something that had never happened before to happen suddenly now? How could they comprehend that four children of their village were able to view the light of His invisible world?

If what the girls said were true, it could have the most unexpected consequences for everyone . . .

They asked us to describe what we had seen.
And very happy with the beautiful figure, we were glad to tell them, since there were some people who doubted that it was true.
We told how he was, how he was dressed, very brilliant . . .
Most of the people laughed at us; but it was all the same to us because we knew it was true.

As the young girl described, the conversations were animated in the early hours of the morning.
And the girls could hear the people talking as they walked to school,(2) where the doors opened at 10 o'clock.

When we arrived at the school, the schoolmistress asked us, My children are you certain about the things you said yesterday?
We answered together: Yes, Señora. We saw an Angel!
The other children from the school who surrounded us were amazed at what we were saying.

I can imagine that there was great excitement among the other young girls accustomed to the monotony of their day to day life. Who would not envy their four schoolmates? Of, if they could be part of such a thrilling thing too!

It is doubtful that there was much studying done on that morning in the young girls' school at Garabandal. However, Conchita writes, We acted the same as always, undisturbed. If tranquility resulted in them from the apparitions, it should be recognized that this is a sign it had a good origin. Neither the devil, neuroses, nor hallucinations leave peace.

When we left school (a little before dinner hour), each one went to his own home.

1. In villages and towns like Garabandal, the kitchen is the most utilized room in the home; here visitors are received, here the entire family congregates. During the winter months this is especially the place for talking or working.
2. The schoolhouse is not in the center of the village, but on the perimeter near the church.

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 11)

In front of Conchita's house

Years later on April 8, 1967, during the great tests, doubts, and contradictions, Aniceta said to the Argentine priest Julio Meinvielle, who had come up to Garabandal with Jaime García Llorente from Seville:(26)

«I recall seeing Conchita when she came back to the house after her first apparition. She came completely transformed. Even the voice had changed, and this struck me greatly. It was like another voice, a very soft voice. And she smiled with a gentleness in her face.»

· · ·

Loli came home with her sister Amaliuca, who was a year younger. They were afraid, expecting a scolding for returning late. In San Sebastián homes there was strict discipline with young girls, and especially about returning home before dark.

When they arrived, their mother was already in bed since the poor woman had worked hard all day long. They went upstairs to her bedroom and knocked softly on her door, Loli behind Amaliuca.

26. Reverend Julio Meinvielle, a prominent figure among Argentine Catholics, had heard and read about Garabandal in his country. As soon as he could, he took a plane to Madrid and Jaime García Llorente picked him up at the airport and took him straight to Garabandal. There the perspicuous priest contemplated, prayed, and listened . . . And his impression was decidedly favorable. He said to his companion Jaime on the return trip, Garabandal will be the banner of the counter-revolution.

—Mama, they whispered.
—Yes, mama, mama, Julia answered sharply, What time is this to get back home? What do you think this is? I ought to give you a beating.
—We are late because Loli has seen an angel.
—An angel? Not a devil? You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Get going, eat your dinner and get to bed. I’m tired. Don’t bother me.

The girls went downstairs and ate. Then Loli, as was her custom, went to the house of her maternal grandmother who lived next door to sleep with her since the woman lived all alone. (This is the house now occupied by the remaining members of the Mazón-González family.)

Before going to bed, the grandmother and her granddaughter were in the habit of saying together the prayers of the Scapular of Mount Carmel, and they started this again on the night of June 18th, 1961. But the grandmother soon noticed something unusual in the child who was on her knees leaning against her, trembling like a frightened little bird. (Loli was quite small at that time.)

—Child! What’s happened to you?
—Grandmother, I’ve seen an Angel.
—What? You’ve seen an Angel? Are you all right? Come on now!

The little girl insisted, and with such a tone of excitement that the grandmother, although not yielding her entire belief, was partly convinced.

The recitation of the Our Fathers and Hail Marys continued, and everything ended as usual with the ancient and beautiful invocation that had to resound like never before on that night:

GRANDMOTHER: Be our consolation. The way most powerful.

LOLI: Give us your loving protection, Mother of God, Our Lady of Mount Carmel.(27)

· · ·

That was at 9:30 at night.
Later that night we didn’t speak any more about it.
It was an ordinary night, just like any other.

Conchita states this in her diary, but we can be sure that for the four girls of Garabandal that night could not be an ordinary night, just like any other. It might have been that in the external aspects of eating, bedtime, etc., but within the hearts of the four girls, that night had to be quite different, stirring up their feelings and desires. They could still remember the beautiful vision of the calleja, and it filled them with such joy. But with it there was mixed the anxiety of many unanswered questions—these two above all:

Would he return?

What did he want from us?

27. I was finally able to learn also from Jacinta how the meeting with her parents took place on the night of the first apparition:
«On returning home, I couldn’t hide our seeing the Angel . . . My mother and my brother took it as a joke. They couldn’t believe it, and tried to convince me that the best thing to do was forget it . . . When I said that the Angel had wings, my brother replied that it has surely been one of the big birds that he has seen at times in the Peña Sagra mountains--not being used to them, we had been frightened, and the scare had made us see strange things . . .

My father interrupted to say, I don’t want to take a serious matter like this for a joke. I don’t know what occurred, but I know Jacinta well. And I know that if she says that she has seen an Angel, something like this happened.
We didn’t discuss the thing anymore that night. When I was alone, I couldn’t stop thinking of what had happened in the Calleja.»

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 10)

Aniceta

When we had finished saying the Station, we went to our homes.
It was already more than nine at night, and my mother had told me to come home during the day.(24)
And on that day it was dark when I arrived.
When I got home, my mother said to me, Didn’t I tell you to come home before dark?
Very frightened because of two things—for having seen the figure so beautiful, and for coming home late—I didn’t dare to come into the kitchen. And I leaned against the wall, very sad.

What a picture. The young girl in the fresh radiance of her twelve years, leaning against the wall in dismay, trying to support with the softness of her look the unlikeliness of her words.

And I said to my mother, I have seen an Angel! The acid response of Aniceta could be expected: Is that all? On top of coming home late, you come saying these things?
And I answered again, But it’s true; I have seen an Angel.

The replies, and the replies to the replies continued between the daughter and her mother. Aniceta, less sure each time in her refusals, finished being much inclined to admit that her daughter, that daughter for whom she lived and whom she watched over with extreme care, must have really experienced something.(25)

24. It would be expected, and very proper for Aniceta to watch like this over her only daughter. In Garabandal the nights are really dark with the streets hardly lit up. And although the people were of upright morality, a girl like Conchita had no business being in the village at such a time.

25. I have come across a new version of what occurred on that memorable afternoon. It comes from Pilar, the mother of Mari Cruz, and was taken down on a tape recorder in the kitchen of her home—without her knowing it—on the afternoon of July 25th, 1964:
«We never fought with each other . . . And it happened one day, a Sunday, the 18th of June. I was at the laundry with a cow that I was keeping at the house. (Pilar took the cow to water at the laundry, as was her custom, so that it could be stabled, since night was falling) There I met Angelita, the wife of Fael, and I don’t know who else . . . She said to me: —But what happened to Mari Cruz?
—What’s happened? What’s happened?
—I answered—What’s she done?
—But you don’t know about it then? That she says she has seen an angel.
—An angel? Oh, what a thing! This frightened me. I thought that she had done something bad. After that, I went on walking while thinking, "Is it possible that the girl is going around saying these ridiculous things about angels and church affairs?" (The atmosphere in Mari Cruz’s home must not have been especially religious. Conchita lets an observation escape in her diary about Mari Cruz’ father Escolástico, who does not go much to mass.)
While walking I met Mari Cruz right here by Sinda’s home. I was irritated and I said to her:
—Listen, Mari Cruz, what are you going around saying here?
—Nothing.
—What do you mean nothing? They told me at the laundry that you have seen an angel . . . Look, I am going to give you a beating, since you are too grown up to say these things . . . While I was saying this, Jacinta, who was there, answered:
—Yes, we really saw him.
—May God be praised. —I said— You are also mixed up in this? What a shame. Most Holy Mary. Young girls of your age!
And that day I gave Mari Cruz a good scolding; but I didn’t scold her after that.»

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 9)

Inside Garabandal church today.

When we had finished praying, we returned to the church door and went inside.
At the same time the schoolmistress arrived very frightened and said to us at once, My children, have you really seen an Angel?
—Yes, Señora.
—Could this be your imagination?
—No, Señora! We have really seen an Angel!
Then the schoolmistress told us, Let us go pray a Station to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament in thanksgiving.(22)

22. A Eucharistic devotion practiced widely in Spain. It consists of six Our Fathers, Hail Marys and Glory Be To The Father, with the ejaculation "Long Live Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. And may He be loved by all." These prayers are accustomed to be said especially during the exposition of the Holy Eucharist, on making a visit to the Blessed Sacrament, and during Thanksgiving after the reception of Holy Communion.

Said to be originated by the Franciscans, the six Our Fathers of the Station have the following significance: Five are in honor of the Five Wounds of Christ—the wounds of the hands, feet, and side—and the sixth is a prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father to gain indulgences.

We know that during that unforgettable Station, the girls’ words and prayers mingled with their sobs and laughter. «We were in such a state», Loli admitted afterwards, «that we were laughing and crying at the same time.»

At Day’s End
(Te lucis ante terminum)

Probably never was a Station like that ever said in the church at San Sebastián de Garabandal.
Never such a feeling of heart, such desire and need to take shelter near the Person who was truly there close to them—the Living God, full of love, powerful and hidden in His ways, and certainly the Author of all that had just happened.

The schoolmistress felt herself more a mother than ever toward her students, who were leaning on her like frightened little birds, seeking protection. They whispered the prayers:
Long live Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament . . . Our Father . . . Thy will be done . . . Forgive us
our sins . . . Lead us not into temptation . . . Deliver us from evil!

The prayer of their five souls in the dark and deserted church was a real Compline(23) at Garabandal on that June Sunday that had begun a Sunday like any other.

The light of day dimmed. Time for evening prayer. On that day and at the same time as at Garabandal, just as it has been happening for centuries in the Church’s countless monasteries and convents, great numbers of souls consecrated to God were saying before Him the liturgical prayer for the end of the day.

(Te lucis ante terminum.)
As the day ends we pray to you, Creator of the Universe, to be our Guardian and Defender according to Your great mercy . . .
Guard us as the pupil of Your eyes; in the shelter of Your wings, protect us . . .
Let Your Holy Spirit descend upon us, Lord our God.

The girls did not understand the meaning of the word Compline, but one can do many things without knowing how to define them.

23. Compline is the last hour of the Divine Office, the official daily prayer of the church; the proper time for its recital is nightfall. This prayer has the purpose of offering the day just concluding to God and petitioning his protection against the unknown dangers of the coming night.

DATE OF WARNING & MIRACLE?

Hi Friends:

Someone sent this Web Site address to me that has some interesting
reading about Garabandal. I thought I would pass it on to all of you.
Let us know what you think about these dates. Personally, I just take
one day at a time, trusting that God will grace us with his miracles
when He wants to:

Dear Deacon John,

Thought you might be interested to read these online articles about
Garabandal:

http://www.catholicplanet.com/secrets/index.htm

the date of the Warning is April 10th, 2009
the date of the Miracle is May 13th, 2010

So it is now less than a year to the Warning, and less than two years
to the Miracle.

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 8)

Perhaps they also had premonitions that this could be the start of something still greater. Where else could they find refuge and protection, if not in the place that especially keeps the presence of God? Is that not also the best place to pray to Her who is His mother and their own, always so ready to help her poor children? But before going inside to pray, they had to pour out their tears on the walls outside.

Those walls, austere, strong, rising up above the little plateau on which Garabandal rests, have withstood the savage storms of the Cantabrian Mountains,(20) looking on century after century of days and nights, of good times and bad. Generations and generations of Garabandalinos have come there with their greatest joys, their most hidden sufferings, their final hopes . . . But never
had those walls seen such ineffable sobbing of children, such exceptional tears as those the four girls shed under their shelter, while the sun set forever on that day of June 18th, 1961.

There was no one there at the time to mount the church tower to signal the hour by ringing the bells; but with the tears of the children, which were not sorrowful ones, a mystery would begin to sound out from Garabandal that would find a great echo in innumerable hearts.

We met some young girls who were playing, and when they saw us crying, they asked us, Why are you crying?
We told them, BECAUSE WE HAVE SEEN AN ANGEL.
They ran off to tell the school-mistress.(21)

20. This extends across almost all the northern part of Spain, running along the Cantabrian Sea, separating the narrow band of costal low lands from the wider and higher expanses in the interior country.

21. In Garabandal there were two state schools in the same building; one of them was for boys, and the other for girls. The first was taught by the schoolmaster from the garden with the apple tree; the second was presided over by a lady who now comes on the scene and will remain in the village for many years. Her name was Serafina Gómez González; she was a native of Cossío; a widow of Raimundo Rodríguez and had a daughter named Toñito.

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 7)

“a very beautiful figure appeared to me”

In the language of a young village girl, poor in vocabulary and unaccustomed to the abuse of superlatives that permeates the news media, these concise expressions show extraordinary feelings. The figure that appeared, and the brilliance surrounding it, were beyond everything beautiful and impressive that could be seen here below.

The other girls, Jacinta, Loli and Mari Cruz, (later they would explain this about themselves) on seeing me in that state, thought I was having an attack, since I was saying with my hands joined together: Oh! . . . Oh! . . . Oh! . . .
As they were going to call my mother, they found themselves in the same state as I was.
And they exclaimed together: Oh, an Angel!
Then there was a short silence among the four of us, and he suddenly disappeared. (19)
And returning to normal, and very frightened, we ran toward the church—on the way passing the dance that was going on in the village.
Then a girl named Pili González said to us, How white and frightened you are! Where are you coming from?
Very ashamed in confessing the truth, we said to her, From picking apples.
And she said: For that . . . you are coming like this?
We answered together: IT IS BECAUSE WE HAVE SEEN AN ANGEL.
And she said: Is that true?
We: Yes, Yes . . .
And we continued on our way in the direction of the church; and the girl told this to the others.
Once at the door of the church, and
thinking it over better, we went behind it
to . . . CRY.

This portrait of the young girls appeals to me. Needing to express their indescribable feelings, they would find refuge behind the walls of the church in order to pour out their tears. A mysterious instinct in the Christian soul had brought them there. They could not explain what had just happened, but they sensed subconsciously that it was something very great.

19. The girl informs us as a participant in that visit from Heaven; but we are able to complete her report with some information from an observer, which we owe to the Police
Chief Juan Alvarez Seco:

«Some girls who were also playing in the area, on seeing the four girls in that strange attitude, began to throw stones at them. Then the Angel took them about 50 meters higher up in the same calleja. Once there, and while kneeling in their ecstatic position, an inhabitant of the village who was coming downhill from the mountain with a honeycomb wanted to pass between them. Seeing that they weren’t moving so he could pass, and not understanding what was happening, he became irritated by the poor training of those girls . . . After having passed by the girls in the direction of the village, the man turned to look back and was amazed to see that the girls were still there, exactly in the same position and posture as before. Mindful of this, he could hardly sleep during the night, thinking that all this was very strange. He told this to his wife, but she answered that it wasn’t important, "children’s affairs!" » (This man’s name was Vicente Mazón.)

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 6)

However in spite of what Conchita writes in her diary, I would think that the schoolmaster’s apples, rather than being taken to satisfy their appetites, must have been an exciting escapade for the girls on a dull Sunday afternoon. I would imagine also that the apples, rather than being eaten voraciously, ended up half-eaten on the ground. Many years later, I heard from Mari Cruz herself in conversation with the Argentine counsel, Carlos Espina Rawson, that the apples of our story, rather than being taken for eating, were taken to be thrown as projectiles on the dancers in the square.

When we where enjoying ourselves eating the apples, we heard a loud noise, like thunder.
And we all shouted out: It seems to be thundering.

That must have been an unusual sounding thunder. And it surely frightened the girls; people fear a storm, especially when it surprises them in an open field in the stillness of nature. The girls were in the middle of that stillness, outside the village although very near to it. They looked up to search for the place where the thunder had come. But neither close by, nor far away toward the heights of Peña Sagra,(16) which so often showed its face surrounded by dark clouds, nor in the neighboring hills of Poniente where the thunderstorms gathered, could they find the least disturbance. What a strange thunder! What was going on?

In the Still of the Evening
(Ad auram post meridiem)

In paradise, as soon as Adam and Eve, the first sinners, had eaten the forbidden fruit, they heard the sound of the footsteps of God, walking in Paradise in the still of the evening. (Gen. 3:8) (Ad auram post meridiem) On that mysterious late Sunday afternoon our young girls had just heard something, and not without fear. (Could it have been the sound of God’s special passage to mankind at Garabandal?) The sun was setting over the horizon. In Spain it was 8:30 in the evening.(17) Now with the thunder the breath of a new kind of inspiration comes to our four little sinners, whom the devil’s suggestion had so easily lured to a not exactly saintly garden escapade. The young author states immediately after:

Oh, what a shame.
Now that we have picked the apples, which didn’t belong to us, the devil will be pleased, and the poor Guardian Angel will be unhappy.
Then we began to gather stones and threw them with all our strength to the left side, where the devil is said to be.(18)

The recounting, in childlike simplicity, is noteworthy. The girls react strongly against the spirit of evil that had succeeded momentarily in seducing them. Opposing it, they place themselves resolutely on the side of the good angels whom they thought were watching on their right, leading them to God.

When we got tired of throwing stones, and were more satisfied with ourselves (the relief of conscience that follows a reaction against the devil), we began to play marbles with little stones on the ground.
Suddenly a very beautiful figure appeared to me, shining brilliantly, without hurting my eyes.

16. An imposing mountain range that closes off the Garabandal horizon toward the South. On the other side of the Peña Sagra mountains extended the varied landscape of Liébana, at the extreme southwest of the Provinces of Palencia, León, and Asturias. One of the attractions of the region of Liébana is the skyline formed by the imposing mountain tops of the Picos de Europa on their western face. But the real treasure of the region is the very ancient monastery of San Toribio, now restored and run by the Franciscans. Here is kept the largest remaining single fragment of the True Cross, that is, of the wood of the Cross of Our Lord. It can easily be understood why in the nearby land of Garabandal the Virgin came to remind men, Think of the Passion of Jesus.

17. Conchita notes the time in her diary.

18. A belief that I myself have observed in many villages in Spain where it is thought that the Guardian Angel stands on the right while the tempter or devil approaches from the left.

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 5)

Loli & Jacinta

Mari Cruz

Seeing us picking the apples, Jacinta shouted out, Hey, Conchita, you are picking the apples.
Shut up, I told her, The school teacher’s wife will hear you, and will tell my mother.(11)

11. Aniceta González, whom we have already mentioned, was an old-fashioned Christian who brought up her children very strictly. Her first offspring were boys: Serafin, who knew the hard toil of the coal mines at Santa Lucía (León); Aniceto, nicknamed Cetuco, who would die at an early age in 1965; and Miguel. It was natural that Aniceta concentrated her care on the youngest of them all, her only daughter! And that she would try to protect her from harm because of her Christian faith and her obligation as a mother.

Then I hid among the potato plants and Mari Cruz started to run through the field.
Loli shouted out, Mari Cruz, stop running. We see you. We will tell this to the owner.
Then Mari Cruz returned and we left our hiding place so that we could all be together.(12)
While we were talking, someone called the little girl who had come with Jacinta and Loli, and she left.
The four of us remained alone; and giving it more thought, the four of us returned to pick the apples . . .
While we were having a good time, we heard the voice of the schoolteacher,(13) who on seeing the branches moving so much, thought it was the sheep, and said to his wife, Concesa, go to the garden. The sheep are wandering near the apple tree.
Hearing this, we burst out laughing.
When we had filled up our pockets, we hurried off to eat the apples more at peace in the street, that is in the calleja.(14)

Those apples in Garabandal certainly could not have been as enticing as the apples in the Garden of Eden. In places as high above sea level as Garabandal, apples in the month of June, even in years of an early spring, could not be anything more than half-ripe fruit, bitter, without juice, hard—suited to cause a toothache. But still they had an incredible power of seduction for the girls of the village who hardly ever saw any fruit other than that which the summers brought to the garden trees. Almost entirely deprived—at least during those years—of imported fruit, they eagerly went after the fruit from the village while it was still green.(15)

12. According to confidential statements Loli made to Father Manuel Antón, the pastor of San Claudio in the city of León, the four girls of our story were not always on the best terms with each other. They had recently quarreled among themselves, as happens frequently with children; and for some time had kept a certain coolness toward each other. They were accustomed to walk in pairs: Loli and Jacinta side by side, and Conchita side by side with Mari Cruz.

————
I finally had the chance to question Jacinta:
—For the Angel’s first visit, did all four of you girls find yourselves together by chance? Since it is certain that you didn’t get along very well, especially you and Conchita.
—Well, we were like children who quarrel as soon as they get together. We had certainly fought several days before the apparition.
13. Francisco Gómez, who was partially lame.
14. The Calleja is a steep, winding, unpaved trail, which goes from the back of the village to a hill where the Pines are situated.
15. The land containing the garden where the apple tree was growing, at the left of the unpaved Calleja that led to the Pines, was later purchased by the husband of Mrs. García Llorente-Gil Delgado from Seville. The garden was in bad condition. Her husband, believing in Garabandal, in 1968 built a beautiful stone house there that is the largest in the village. From the beginning of construction he took the greatest care to preserve the tree of our story, something which he could only do half-way, since of the two limbs coming from the trunk, one was already dying and withered, which he trimmed to save the other. And so the tree was there, sheltered by the new house, until the winter of 1975, when a strong wind knocked it down. Now there only remains a small dead tree stump which can be seen at the right of the entrance to the house. The García Llorentes told me that the last apple picking in September, 1974 was of magnificent quality, very delicious.

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 4)

Conchita at 12 years old

The Apple Tree

Others wander down the paths to their homes chatting with one another, or sit down with their neighbors to pass the time on the stone seats next to the house doorways. The children, as usual, play . . . where they can and how they can. To get away from the calm silence and solitude, most of the boys and girls walk to the square. In this group the games and amusements must not have been very entertaining since one of them—a personable young brunette with braids—to escape the boredom ending the evening that Sunday like any other, suddenly got an idea which she swiftly whispered in the ear of the girl next to her . She herself would confess it months later.(6)

Temptation at Dusk
It was a Sunday evening, and we were with all the young girls playing in the plaza.(7)
Suddenly Mari Cruz(8) and I thought of going to pick apples.

6. Conchita González was her name. She was the last child, the only girl among the offspring of Aniceta González, a woman from the village who had lost her husband prematurely.
At the beginning of our story Conchita was twelve years old; she was a gracious young girl, very observant, with a quick mind. However in education she was backward like all the young girls in Garabandal. Her culture could not advance much beyond what she learned at the school in her secluded little village.
On someone’s recommendation, Conchita started writing her diary in 1962. In it, in the language of a child, short and to the point, she would tell things that she could not blot out from her memory. I have in my hands photocopies of the original. The pages are large, on a school notebook, written down in wobbly penmanship, with many faults in spelling; but truly charming in what they say.
Her diary begins like this:

I am going to tell in this book about my apparitions and my daily life.
The most important happening in my life occurred on June 18, 1961, in San Sebastián . . .
It happened in the following way . . .

····················································· Note: All excerpts from Conchita’s Diary will be recognizable in this book by the usage of this extra-bold type. ·····················································

And we set off straight to the place where they were, without telling anyone that we were going to pick the apples.

The idea of picking apples was a real temptation. The apples did not belong either to Mari Cruz or to Conchita; so that this was an actual theft, that is to say, the sin of stealing. During those evening hours, the devil was in action among the inhabitants of Garabandal. He was luring two young adolescent girls to the tree of forbidden fruit—almost as in the beginning of time. We do not know if they, like Eve in the beginning, showed resistance to the tempter’s suggestions; if there was any resistance, it had to be very weak.

The girls, seeing that the two of us were going away alone, asked us, Where are you going?
And we answered, Over there . . .
And we continued on our way, thinking about how we were going to manage to pick them.
Once there,(9) we started to pick the apples.
And while we were having a good time, we saw Loli, Jacinta,(10) and another young girl coming to see if they could find us.

7. The Plaza is the name given to this place in the center of the village, since it is an open area from which many streets and alleys take their origin. But it should not be imagined that it is the same type of plaza as in a big city; the ground is unpaved and uncared for, dusty or muddy when it rains, full of loose stones, and covered with debris from the constant passage of men, wagons and animals. 8. Mari Cruz González was the daughter of Escolástico and Pilar. She was 11 years old at the time, thin and dark-skinned and wore her hair very short. 9. This place was a small garden leading out from the village in the direction of the Pines. Apparently the garden was not the property of the teacher, but of a woman called Pilar Cuenca. 10. Loli (María Dolores Mazón) was the second daughter of Ceferino and Julia, who had a large family. Ceferino was the mayor of the village, and besides having pastures for farming like everyone else in Garabandal, also owned a little store or tavern. Jacinta had the last name of González too, just like Conchita and Mari Cruz. Jacinta’s parents were María and Simón, two Christians of strong faith who bore with dignity the life of sacrifice imposed on them by an existence deprived of material possessions. Loli and Jacinta were 12 years old, and were likable children. The girl who came with them was Virginia, whom everyone called Ginia.

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 3)

In times past over the trails that wind around Garabandal, many a time the country song had rung out, I don’t know what holds me to my village, nor why it delights me so, nor why it attracts me. But today the young people were feeling different attractions, wanting to get away from this place where they saw no future, and to get out into the outside world that could offer opportunities. The old people still remained attached to the village, sometimes by affection and sometimes by necessity; with a desire to persevere, or a noble resignation to maintaining the inheritance of their fathers. As for the young children, they amused themselves as children do all over the world, exchanging gifts or playing games like hide and seek.

In the days when our story starts, the chief of police in the district of Rio Nansa was Juan Alvarez Seco. This is his description:

«Garabandal is a little mountain town made up of about seventy families. The customs of its inhabitants are primarily religious. For example they never forget to recite the Angelus as soon as the clock shows twelve noon. In the evening they always recite the holy rosary in the church. This is led by the parish priest if he is present; if not, the schoolteacher or another villager leads it. As night falls, Jacinta’s mother, the wife of Simón, goes around the village with a lantern and bell to call the people to pray for the dead and say the last prayers of the day. On Sundays after assisting at Holy Mass in the ancient simple church, the people take a little recreation. In the evening the young people gather under the porch roofs or the open sky and sing or amuse themselves to the sound of a tambourine.»

Sunday June 18, 1961
The day starts very early as there are many daylight hours at the start of summer. The early June mornings radiate enchantment. The climate is caressing, the air pure, with light softly shining through the clouds, awakening the birds, brightly outlining things with an array of colors. Dawn is known only too well by the inhabitants of Garabandal due to the demand of their work as cattle raisers and farmers; so they do not get up early to enjoy the Sunday mornings. Most of them arise later than usual, since the Lord’s Day was made for rest. The men wash and shave, something they do not do everyday. The women bustle around, busier than on other mornings, arranging their family’s clothes, since no one is going to go to Sunday Mass without their dress being cleaned or their suit pressed. When the bells peal out from the massive church tower to awaken the village, the sounds of a festival day fill the air. The harsh music from the bells bounces off the tile roofs, reverberating through the narrow streets to be lost far away in the fields and prairies, in the streams and riverbeds, finally absorbed in the trees and shrubs dotting the hills surrounding the village. The bells ring out first for the Mass, later for the rosary. Without a Mass or a rosary crowded with participants, how could one picture a feast day in Garabandal?

Father Valentín Marichalar, the pastor from Cossío, who is also in charge of the parish of San Sebastián, arrives for Mass after traveling up six kilometers of bad road. The rosary is led by any one of the faithful who can say it without making mistakes in the mysteries or the litany that follows. The Mass can take place at any time according to the disposition of the pastor. But the rosary is said a little after dinner, since everyone is free at that hour, and there will be time left over for the people to relax and amuse themselves. On this evening the young people are organizing a little dance on Caballera Street, although some of them are talking about going down to Cossío or Puente Nansa. (There was no movie theater, television set, or town hall in Garabandal.) Some of the men cluster together to talk; others dispute loudly in the tavern. Some women, many of whom wear the black widow’s dress, remain in the church.
·····················································
Note: A large part of this book is direct testimony from eye-witnesses. European quotation marks « » and this slightly bolder type have been used to aid the reader in separating this testimony from the general text. ·····················································

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 2)

Though mankind is struck with amazement by its own discoveries and power, it often raises anxious questions about the present evolution of the world, about the purpose and mission of man himself in the universe, about the meaning of his individual and collective efforts, and about the final fate of existence and humanity. History itself is undergoing such a process of acceleration that it is hardly possible for man to follow it. We all pursue the same fate, and we are not able to disassociate ourselves into individual cases. Such a rapid change, realized in the upset, gives birth to or increases the contradictions and disorder. So the modern world appears at the same time both powerful and weak, capable of the best and the worst, for there is a choice between the road to liberty and that to slavery, toward progress or toward decay, toward love or toward hate. These disorders are related to another disorder, truly fundamental, which finds its roots in the very heart of each man . . . A weak and sinful creature who often does what he does not wish to do and neglects what he ought to do and ought to accomplish.(4)

4. Catechism of Modern Man.

In that grave hour of history when so many things were happening or were about to happen in the world, it would never have occurred to anyone that something important could take place at San Sebastián de Garabandal. This village seemed buried in oblivion, lost in the distance. Life there was continuing the same as it had for years, perhaps for centuries. Today, like yesterday; tomorrow, like today. And always the same. A gray sky.(5) Of course the sky in San Sebastián was not always gray, even though it is near to the rainy Cantabrian Mountains; but the life of its inhabitants was certainly gray and monotonous. Always the same cows and stables, the same fields and harvests, with nothing changing except the seasons. Here the people still gathered in the homes and assembled as Christians in the house of God, the main building in the village, linked closely to it. Here the latest news involved everyone: Carmen had a baby, Pili is going to get married, Juan’s son is returning from the military, the bells will soon sound the death of Uncle Gervasio.

5. Poem of Gustavo Bécquer, a Spanish poet (1836-1870).

She Went in Haste to the Mountain (Page 1)

· · · · · · · · · · · ·
In the little mountain village of San Sebastián de Garabandal,(1) century after century had passed without history; then one day . . .

1. There are approximately sixty houses built of stone in the village, and arranged in typical rural style. They are grouped together on top of a narrow plain, irregular in outline, about 2000 feet above sea level, giving the appearance of a wide open Y.
The entrance to the village is from the bottom of this Y, that points downward to a river below flowing into the Cantabrian Sea. An extremely bad road comes up from Cossío some six
kilometers away.

A Sunday Like Any Other
The calendars in the kitchens were turned to the page for June, 1961, showing: Sunday, the 18th. St. Ephrem, Doctor of the Church, Sts. Mark and Marcellian, martyrs. So what? It was just one more among the countless days that passed without event in the little world of Garabandal.
Nothing ever happened there worth telling.
It was in the great world on the other side of the mountains where things were happening. Most of these were disturbing: men and nations stirred up with unrest, greed, anxiety, revolts; concerned about the future with cold wars and real ones on all fronts. What did the coming days hold?
As a ray of hope in the face of all these problems that appeared to have no human solution, within the walls of the Catholic Church in Rome plans were underway, with great anticipation to prepare a new council: Vatican II. It would be convened by John XXIII, Good Pope John, as many called him affectionately. Even with his eighty years, this man spoke with inspiration and hope in his heart like the blossoming of flowers in springtime.(2) Through his efforts and by his
decree, hundreds of eminent scholars set out to sound out the world, seeking to assist it.(3) As a result of their search, things like these were soon to be proclaimed to the council assembly:

The upper part of the Y opens toward the south-southwest to a magnificent display of mountain peaks ending on the one side with the Peña Sagra chain (2,016 meters) and on the other side, farther away and more to the south, with the Peña Labra chain (2,010 meters) that overlooks vast sections of the provinces of Palencia and Santander. From here rivers flow toward these bodies of water: the Cantabrian Sea, the Mediterranean (by way of the Ebro River), and the Atlantic Ocean (by way of the Pisuerga River).
In this region, Garabandal is the last village before those imposing mountain tops from which it is separated by miles of silence and solitude amid terrain of savage beauty.

2. On January 25th, 1959, the feast of the Conversion of St. Paul, in the famous Basilica St. Paul Outside the Walls, the Pope publicly announced his proposal to convoke a new council.

3. On June 18th of that year, Cardinal Tardini, president of the Preparatory Commission, wrote to the cardinals, bishops, and the heads of the religious orders, Catholic universities and
seminaries requesting suggestions and topics for the council.

[To be continued]