As I worked on an article for an altar, the “Mother” came with her Child in her arms. She said to me, “Here He is. Hold Him for me a while. I entrust Him to you.” And she placed Him, seated, on the bed, at my side.
Jesus was really the Child of Nazareth, rather than Egypt, for He was more or less two years old. Wearing pale blue light wool, a little, rather short tunic, with short sleeves, too, so that his plump, beautiful forearms and legs are left uncovered.... He was amusing himself with his hands and little robe and was prattling or watching me work with his innocent, sapphire eyes. He remained with me the whole morning... and I felt so much joy.