As a young girl, I never could have imagined what the Lord had intended for me.
Me. An insignificant, illiterate farm girl with nothing to her name, living in an isolated patch of eastern France.
I still remember how the flowers and the trees began to illuminate as I sat, praying, no longer in solitude, in my father’s garden.
Before me stood the three most perfect being I have ever cast my eyes upon, their brilliant brightness nearly blinding me.
As they spoke, I felt a sense of perfect love and peace wash over me.
My heart instantly swelled with joy, and I could feel a burning in my bosom so powerful, so strong, it were as if I were standing amidst the flames of the hearth.
They were angels, messengers of God, here to bring me a message about His plans for me and to tell me of what I must do.
The encounter was so shocking, so surreal, I found myself unable to speak.
The three saintly personages uttered their last words of instruction before offering me God’s blessing and disappearing just as quickly as they had appeared.
My heart sank as the warmth and light, which had engulfed, slowly vanished, following their parting.
I was left alone.
Hot tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks, as I feared I would never see such immense beauty or feel such perfect love again.