The Descent of the Holy Spirit
A very loud and harmonious roar, that resembles the wind and the harp, as well as human singing and the sound of a perfect organ, suddenly resounds in the silence of the morning. It comes near, more and more harmonious and loud, and with its vibrations it fills the Earth, propagates them and impresses them on the house, on the walls, on the furniture. The flame of the chandelier, so far immobile in the peace of the closed room, flickers as if a wind were blowing and the little chains of the chandelier tinkle vibrating under the wave of the supernatural sound that strikes them.
The apostles raise their heads frightened, and as that most beautiful rumble, in which are all the loveliest notes that God gave the Heavens and the Earth, approaches them more and more, some stand up ready to run away, some crouch on the floor covering their heads with their hands and mantles, or beat their breasts asking God to forgive them, some press against Mary, too frightened to keep the reserve they always have for the Most Pure Mother. Only John is not frightened, because he sees the bright peace of joy that is accentuated on the face of Mary, Who raises Her head smiling at a thing known to Her alone, and Who then slides down on Her knees opening Her arms, and the two blue wings of Her mantle so opened stretch out on Peter and John, who have imitated Her, kneeling down. But all this, which took me some minutes to describe, has taken place in less than one minute.
And then the Light, the Fire, the Holy Spirit enters, with a last melodious loud noise, in the form of a very shining burning globe, into the closed room, without any door or window being moved, and remains hovering for a minute over Mary's head, about three palms above Her head, which is now uncovered, because Mary, upon seeing the Fire Paraclete, has raised Her arms to invoke Him and has thrown Her head back with a cry of joy, with a smile of boundless love. And, after that moment in which all the Fire of the Holy Spirit, all the Love, is collected in His Spouse, the Most Holy Globe splits into thirteen canorous very bright flames, of so bright a light that no earthy comparison can describe, and it descends to kiss the forehead of each apostle.
Say an Our Father, 10 Hail Marys, a Glory Be, and the Fatima Prayer #1
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