Testimony of Carmen Humphrey
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My name is Carmen Humphrey, and I come from a small French-Canadian village called St-Isidore-de-Bellevue, in Saskatchewan, about 100 kilometres from Saskatoon. I will not bore you with the details of my youth, because my early years were very happy. We were poor, but we did not know it. We always felt loved and safe. I studied to become a licensed nurse, and I worked at the City Hospital and at the Royal University Hospital, in the operating room, in the observation wards, and finally in intensive care.
I also worked in homes for the elderly. I am on my second marriage, and I am very happy. In my first marriage, I was a victim of abuse. My first marriage was annulled by the Church. My husband Scott and I have two boys, Michael, who is 18, and Stéphan, who is 17.
I have always believed in God. As a young woman I was faithful to religious practice, but when I left home, I was no longer as faithful to Sunday Mass. I believed in God, but sometimes I thought He had abandoned me. In 1984, I had a car accident. After the accident I had terrible headaches. I had suffered a whiplash injury, and my headaches were so painful that I could not work. In 1988, my sister learned that she had cancer. It was a rare cancer, and she suffered a great deal.
In July 1989, Father Émilien Tardif came to Saskatchewan. He has since passed away. He celebrated a healing Mass at St. Patrick's church. There were a great many people: the church was full. My mother had asked that we all go to pray for my sister. Even though I was not sure whether I believed in miracles and healings, I went, because when our mother asks us to do something, we do it! I got married in 1988 and became pregnant in 1989. I had headaches every day, and often twice a day.
I did not want to go to that healing Mass, but I went anyway. We were up above, in the choir loft, in that vast church, when Father Tardif began to “speak in tongues.” I had never heard anything like it in my life. I thought: “My goodness, it is strange, but very moving.” And I began to cry. I felt as though I was in Heaven, as though I were hearing angels sing.
Father Émilien Tardif A few minutes later, I heard Father Tardif saying: “Someone has been healed of arthritis in the left shoulder,” and a person stood up. For about 30 minutes he prayed in tongues, and every so often he would stop to announce: “Someone has been healed of this, someone has been healed of that.” People were standing up all over the church. Again I said to myself: “I do not believe in all this. They must have talked to one another beforehand!” I did not even want to be there; it was very hot in the church and I was pregnant.
Suddenly, the priest said: “Someone who has been suffering from many headaches for some years now feels a great deal of heat in the neck.” Well, I was feeling a great deal of heat in my neck, but I was not going to stand up and say: “That's me!” I told myself it must be because I was pregnant, because I had long hair, and because it was the month of July. So I said nothing.
Healing prayers
After that healing Mass, I never again had a headache. For five years I had had those headaches almost constantly, and then, suddenly, no more headaches! I knew right away in my heart that it was a miracle, for I knew how intense my headaches had been. I told no one, because they would have thought I was going mad. You know, one does not talk about such things just like that. I said nothing to anyone. Only my husband knew. Then, on July 15, 1991, my sister Juliette passed away.
I began to say to myself: “The Lord healed me, and He did not heal her, even though she was much sicker than I was. (I was not as grateful for that healing as I should have been.) I began to ask the Holy Spirit to help me, to make me more grateful, to make me a better wife and a better mother, a better sister, a better daughter, and a good example to everyone I would meet. I also told Him to use me if He needed me.
I really did not see how the Holy Spirit could use me, for I am a stay-at-home mother; I never see anyone, I never do anything, and I never go anywhere. But be careful what you say when you pray, because it could very well happen to you.
I began to read about the apparitions of Fatima, Lourdes, Medjugorje, and all the messages. I said to myself: “Oh! my goodness! we are heading straight for hell, because no one lives out all these messages, no one! We have all become indifferent toward the Lord. We live without asking ourselves about the consequences of our actions.
He is someone we turn to when we have a need or when we are suffering greatly, or when we are truly desperate; at that moment we call upon Him.” I said to myself: “I must begin to pray for my family, for my friends, and for the conversion of sinners. I must begin to say the Rosary.” The Rosary was the most powerful prayer I knew at the time.
Since then, I have learned that saying a single Hail Mary with the heart can convert a soul, release a soul from purgatory and allow it to enter Heaven, put an end to a war, or change the world. Such is the power of a single Hail Mary. So I said to myself: “I must begin to recite the Rosary.” I do not like to say the Rosary alone, because I have a great deal of difficulty concentrating. So I began to ask people: “Would you like to meet once a week to recite the Rosary?” No one wanted to recite the Rosary with me.
All of this was happening between 1991 and 1995.
In September 1995, the bishop's annual fund-raising drive took place. A wonderful woman and her daughter came to my house. During our conversation, I said: “You know, I am looking for someone to recite the Rosary with, and no one wants to do it.” Jeannette replied: “I will recite the Rosary with you.” I replied: “That's wonderful!” So, starting that very week, we began saying the Rosary together once a week. We would light a candle, and it was very calm and peaceful. Every week we met to pray the Rosary.
During the month of February 1996, Lent began, and we said to ourselves that we would like to do something a little special. We began to meet more often, to go to Mass, to adoration, and to say the Rosary up to five times a week. When one recites the Rosary often, one's life begins to change. Our lives began to change. I do not know how to describe it, but it was wonderful. And then, at the end of 1996, another woman came up to me. We were at adoration, and she came toward us and invited us to her Marian Cenacle every Friday at one o'clock.
We began to go there every Friday afternoon, and we met wonderful people there.
A Cenacle
Then, in 1997, things really began to unfold. At the time, I thought they were mere coincidences, but now I realize they were small divine interventions. On July 13, 1997, I went to the home of the woman where the Cenacle was held. She had a guest who lives in Vancouver and who has visions. Her guest prayed over me and said: “God has a mission for you.” When one is told something like that, one does not quite know what to think. I came home, and I remember saying to my mother: “I wonder what kind of mission the Lord has for me.” I remember discussing it with her.
Two days later, on July 15, a Tuesday, it was the anniversary of my sister's death. Every year we go to Saint-Laurent, to the shrine of Duck Lake. We went there with a group of people and said the Rosary together. I went into a little shop and found a small medal of the Holy Spirit. I found it so pretty, and I bought it. I asked the priest, Father Fioleau, to bless it. I put it on my chain and showed it to everyone, saying: “Look, I found my Holy Spirit!” They must all have thought I was a little crazy about that medal.
The lady at whose home the Cenacle was held took the medal in her hand and said: “It is burning my hand.” I touched the medal, and it was warm, but it was the month of July and it was hot outside; still it was not burning my hand. She looked at me and said: “You are filled with the Holy Spirit; you are going to receive a gift of the Holy Spirit.” Again, one does not quite know what to say or think when one is told something like that. Then she said: “Perhaps you are going to speak in tongues.” I had already been told that, and I said to myself: “Perhaps in ten years I will speak in tongues... I can live with that.”
The next day, I went to St. Mary's church. I go there several times a week. After Mass, I met a friend on the church steps. I said to her: “Yesterday I went to Saint-Laurent, and we recited the Rosary and did the Way of the Cross. It was a very beautiful day, and look, I found my Holy Spirit!” As I was showing her my Holy Spirit medal, she said to me: “I have just had a manifestation of the Holy Spirit.” I did not know what that meant. I did not know that people could have that kind of intimacy with the Holy Spirit. She said to me: “I feel that the Holy Spirit is here with us.” I said to myself: “Well, we have just received Communion, we are beside the church; perhaps He is coming to say hello.” I did not know. That evening we had an hour of adoration here at St. John Bosco church.
Hour of adoration
That evening, I came at 9 o'clock and sat right in the middle of the church. I said to myself: “I am going to have a very beautiful hour of adoration, because I have many things for which I want to pray.” I always begin with the Our Father, but I was unable to say the Our Father; I could not pray at all. I said to myself: “My goodness, why am I not able to concentrate?” Usually I am able to concentrate when I pray.
I began to look at the walls and to think about all sorts of things, like what I was going to make for supper the next evening. The Blessed Sacrament was exposed right in front of me, and I felt guilty for not being able to concentrate on prayer. I told myself that perhaps I should try to read something, but I was unable to concentrate on anything at all. Even though I stayed a whole hour, I did not manage to recite a single prayer.
On my way home, I kept telling myself that I had been very distracted, and that such hours of adoration are rare and should not be wasted.
At home, I have a small job doing hot wax hair removal. The next morning, a lady had an appointment for her waxing. She had a little 5-year-old boy who was going deaf and who attended the school for the deaf. She had brought her son with her. When she entered our house, I heard a voice. No doubt you are going to find my story starting to get strange. The voice said: “Place your hand on this little boy and pray for him.” There was no way I was going to lay hands on that child. I did not know the woman well enough for that. One does not touch just anyone like that. I have always respected people's personal space. I prayed for him in my heart, because I felt compassion for him, but I did not lay hands on him. Then the woman left my house.
An hour later, my niece came with her little boy, who was 11 months old at the time. This little child was very allergic to milk. They came into my house, and again I heard that voice: “Place your hand on this little boy and pray for him.” The voice was real; I heard it in my head. I immediately thought that I was hallucinating, even though I had never had hallucinations in my life. It was still out of the question for me to place my hands on her son, because my niece would think I was crazy to place my hands on that child and pray for him. I said to her: “Stay here with my two boys, and I am going back to the church.” I wanted to make up that hour of adoration that I had not accomplished the previous evening.
I entered the church and began to feel a tingling sensation in my hands and something like a numbness inside my hands. I said to myself: “My goodness! I am going to have a stroke! I am over 40 and I have a few extra pounds; I am going to die. It is a beautiful place to die, right here before the Blessed Sacrament... Take me, Lord, now!” I was not dying, and I began to wonder what was happening. Carpal tunnel syndrome? That's it! I am going to have to have surgery, and I have piles of dishes to wash!
How am I going to clean the house? I had no idea what was causing that numbness. I am a licensed nurse, and I was thinking of everything that could cause that numbness in my hands. I stayed an hour, but again I did not recite a single prayer.
When I left, a lady who came from the Philippines left at the same time as I did. She came toward me and took my hands in hers. I said to myself: “But what is she doing? One does not go up to a person one does not know and grab their hands just like that!” She said to me: “Are you all right?” It did not show that I was moved. I answered: “Yes, I'm all right, but I have a kind of tingling sensation in my hands.” She answered: “Do you feel it?
The Holy Spirit is present here.” I said to myself: “Well, I never!” and I said to her: “What do you mean?” She answered: “Don't you feel it?” I answered: “No, I just feel this tingling in my hands.” She answered: “Can I come to your house?” I said to myself: “Well, I suppose she cannot be a serial killer, since she has just spent an hour before the Blessed Sacrament.” She followed me to the house.
The gift of healing
As she was entering our house, she said to me: “I feel that there are going to be many people coming here and that you are going to pray over them. You have the gift of healing. The Lord is speaking to you. Listen to Him!” At that point I lost my composure and began to cry. I said: “It is not possible that all this is happening! Things like this happen to holy people, surely not to me.” I did not want to hear any more. My hands were really itching a great deal. She said to me: “Calm down and be obedient,” and she went home. That evening, my husband...
I must tell you that my husband is a wonderful man, but he did not grow up in the faith. He never speaks of God. In fact, before we got married, the only thing I said to him was: “Never force me to choose between you and the Lord, because you will lose every time.” That is all that was ever said about the Lord between my husband and me. He lets me do whatever I want; he is very tolerant, and he must have become more and more so over the years.
He said to me: “Something is bothering you; you have to tell me what is wrong.” I answered: “I cannot talk to you about that. You would never believe me.” He answered: “You have to tell me what is wrong. You have to tell me.” So I said to him: “You had better sit down, because you will not believe your ears.” I told him what the women had said about the Holy Spirit, and about the tingling in my hands, and the voices I had heard...
After a while, he said: “Perhaps the Lord wants you to do something.” I looked at him, thinking: “What has gotten into you?” I understand now that it was not he who had spoken. Those words would never have come out of his mouth.
That evening, I had a rather restless night: I tossed and turned this way and that. At 2:30, something moved me to get up and write something. For five years, my children, when they were small, had woken me every night every two hours, and each time I never wanted to get up. I took my blanket and wrapped myself up well in it, telling myself that if I did not move, I would fall back asleep. But I heard: “Be obedient, be obedient!” It resonated so loudly in my head that I flung off the blanket and said to myself: “All right!” I got up and went into the kitchen without knowing what I was doing.
I took a piece of paper, and within a few minutes I had written an incredibly beautiful prayer, with expressions I had never used before in my life. I looked at it and said to myself: “It is so beautiful!” That prayer was in my head. I went back to bed and prayed for the two boys over whom I had not prayed, for my father, who was going blind, for people who have cancer, for people who suffer from allergies; I prayed until 5:30 in the morning. The next day the Cenacle was held at the lady's house, at 1 o'clock.
I went there, and there was the lady from the Philippines waiting for me outside. She almost never went there. She came toward me, took my hands, and said: “Were you up at 2:30?” I had told no one. I said: “Yes.” She said to me: “I recited all fifteen decades of the Rosary for you. The Lord is speaking to you. He wants you to do something. You have to do it. Don't you feel it?” I answered her: “No, all I feel is a tingling in my hands, and please, do not speak to me about that anymore.” She answered: “Go and speak to a priest.”
We had a new priest here, Father Denis Phaneuf, and all I knew about him was that he was not the kind to tolerate stories that did not hold up. He was very direct. He would probably tell me I was sick, to go consult someone, and not to bother him with that kind of thing. Besides, my sister was arriving from Montreal, and we were leaving to visit my brother in Flin Flon, in northern Manitoba. My brother works as a police officer there, and we were going fishing, and then we were going to leave again to go and see my other sister in Calgary. I did not have time to speak to a priest. I told my mother and asked her to keep the strictest secret about it.
In the car, when we travel with my parents, we pray; we say a Chaplet of Divine Mercy, an ordinary Rosary, another Chaplet of Divine Mercy and another ordinary Rosary, a Chaplet of Divine Mercy and another ordinary Rosary. Then we stop for a little while, and then we recite several other kinds of prayers. It is a long way to Flin Flon, and it is even farther to Calgary. Every time we prayed, I felt the tingling in my hands again.
Two weeks went by, and I went camping with my sons at Wakaw regional park. My youngest went into the water on the very first day and came out all shivering, feverish, and with a runny nose. He is very prone to ear infections; he gets 3 or 4 a year easily. I was angry, because we had just arrived and I did not want to have to go back to Saskatoon as soon as we had gotten there. I placed my hand on him. Since he was only 5 years old at the time, I did not feel embarrassed to do so. I prayed.
And the next day, he was as good as new, with no symptom of anything. We had a wonderful week. I found it rather extraordinary... however, I told myself it was a coincidence.
The following Monday was August 18, and it was the first day of school at St. Dominic's school. That year the school year began earlier for the Catholic school board. All the mothers were waiting in the corridor, cheque book in hand, to pay the registration fees. Out of politeness, I asked the lady next to me: “How are you?” I did not know her very well at the time. She answered: “I am having a really difficult summer; I suffer from arthritis in my left shoulder. I cannot wear my wedding ring. It has been five years since I last wore it.
I am not able to do my housework. I am having a truly dreadful summer.” I regretted having asked her the question. Without really knowing why, I suddenly said to her: “Would you like me to pray over you?” I could not believe that I had actually uttered those words. I said to myself: “My goodness! if she agrees, I am going to have to pray over her!” And I really did not want to. She said: “Yes.” I said to myself: “Oh no! there are people all over the place! Let's go behind a door.” We went and hid behind a door.
It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my entire life. I placed my hand on her left shoulder and recited the prayer that had come to me during the night. She thanked me and left.
I said to myself: “I will never do that again! I have to go and speak to a priest.” I called the rectory, and he was not there. I left my name and my telephone number. When Father Denis called me back, I said to him: “My name is Carmen Humphrey, and I would like to speak to you about something very important.” He answered: “I don't have time to talk to you.” I said to myself: “Thank you, Lord!” I thought a priest spoke to everyone. So I concluded that I had my answer from the Lord. All this is going to go away. I told no one. Everything is under control.
My mother promised to keep the secret. It will go away... all this will end up going away. Two days later, Father Denis calls me and says: “Your name is here on my desk. Did you call me?” No, I tell him. He then says to me: “I would like to speak to you.” I said to myself: “No problem; he cannot do anything anyway; he cannot take my children away from me. He cannot fire me either. He cannot throw me out of the Church. I will go and tell him everything.” I went to the rectory at 1 o'clock on August 28.
Never speak to Father Denis at 1 o'clock in the afternoon, because all he thinks about is sleeping.
I entered the church and sat down on a pew, and I told him everything. I showed him the prayer I had written, I told him about the tingling in my hands, I told him about the voices I had heard. I repeated to him what the women had said about the Holy Spirit. He was yawning. “My God, he must be fed up,” I said to myself. Finally, he said to me: “So, what is your problem? You should get down on your knees and thank the Lord. He has given you the gift of healing.” I could not believe my ears. “But is it supernatural?” I said to him.
“Of course it is supernatural!” he answered. – “But I am not a good enough person for something like that to happen to me.” – “Well, what do you think of yourself?” – “I think I am a sinner!” – “Sinners go to hell!” I was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable. He said to me: “Jesus died on the cross to make you worthy. We are all worthy of the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Do not try to understand why the Lord chose you for something like that, for you will never be able to understand. Simply act.”
Then I asked him: “What does the tingling in my hands mean?” He answered: “Oh! it is the Holy Spirit wanting you to touch people, to bless them and heal them. Do it, do it! He has even given you the instructions. So do it!” I answered: “I am just a stay-at-home mother. I never go anywhere. I never see anyone.” He answered: “Don't worry about that.
If the Lord wants to use you in that way, He will find a way.” He also told me that I could refuse this gift, and that the Lord would simply go and look for someone else, and that He would love me just as much, but that I should nevertheless try to see what the Lord can do. Then he gave me the code for the church, telling me to come as often as I wanted. I went home and called my mother. We cried for a long time on the telephone. I had to tell my family. It is easy for me to tell things like that to my family.
But I have a sister who lives here in Saskatoon; she is very spiritual and very intelligent. She is not taken in by any kind of sensationalism. She is very sceptical about that kind of thing: she would never believe me. She has known me very well since we were children. She would not believe me, but I had to tell her.
On Labour Day, I went to her house. I took my other sister along as moral support, and I told her the whole story. She said to me: “That's wonderful! It is the kind of thing one reads about, but never thinks one will meet those people. And on top of that, having it happen to someone one knows, someone in the family to whom one has access at any time, is wonderful! You are not leaving here before you have prayed over me.” Her reaction was completely different from what I had anticipated.
The next day, I woke up and said to myself: “It cannot be true; it must be my imagination. I cannot believe all those stories.” I came to St. John Bosco, because I had the code to enter the church. I was alone. I sat down before the Tabernacle and said: “Lord, I cannot believe that You would have done this to me... It is not that I do not believe You are capable of it... I need proof. I need a sign. I do not want people to laugh at You, nor at me.
I need a sign, and it is going to have to be pretty big so that I cannot miss it. (What do I know about signs? I am a little silly when it comes to things like that.)
A gift of the Holy Spirit
I went back home, and even though I do not do gardening, I began pulling weeds in the backyard. I have a statue of the Virgin Mary in the yard. While I was pulling weeds, I found a rose bush that I had not planted, thorns and all. I said to myself: “That could be a sign.” What is a sign? I have no idea... a rose bush? I live in a neighbourhood with flowers everywhere; so there must be an explanation for this. I went into the house and began washing the floors. I was going mad.
For six weeks, it kept going through my head that I was crazy and that it could not be true. I had imagined all of it. I stopped washing the floor and decided to go and call the lady who holds the Cenacle at her home, the one who had told me I was going to receive a gift of the Holy Spirit. She said to me: “Come on over.” I went to her house and said to her: “I cannot believe the Lord would have done this to me.” She answered: “It is Lucifer talking. You must fight him. He is going to put all kinds of doubts in your head. He is going to try to stop you from using your gift.
You must fight him.” I said to myself: “How does one fight the devil? I need help.” I said: “I would like you to pray over me.” I knelt down before her, and she placed her hand on my head. I was not listening to what she was saying. I simply said: “Holy Spirit, come into my heart and set it right.” Then I fell into the rest of the Spirit. I fell like a rock. As I was falling, I saw myself falling as if in slow motion; I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit. I felt at peace.
I stayed on the ground for about five seconds, and it passed through my mind that this could be a sign. It could indeed have been a sign, because I am not the kind to fall for nothing. You have to pay me a lot to make me fall to the ground for nothing. I felt at peace, more at peace than I had felt all summer. But my hands were still tingling quite strongly. I got up, and I felt so good. I felt as though the weight of the whole world had been lifted from my shoulders. I felt so good. I went back home.
The next day was a “parent and teacher at school” day. I did not want to go and meet the teacher, because I had already met him. It was the same teacher as last year, and I did not want to go. My youngest said to me: “I made a drawing; it is on my desk, and you have to go to school to get it.” Feeling a little guilty, I decided to go to the school. I arrive, and the woman who had suffered from arthritis was right there near the door. She comes toward me at full speed, saying: “I tried to call you.
I am healed.” I said: “What do you mean, you are healed?” She was raising her arm up and down, saying again: “I am healed.” I said to myself: “That is a fairly obvious sign...” I said to her: “Thank the Lord for your healing, for it is He who healed you. I am not able to heal anyone. Only the Lord can do that.”
The next day I went back to the church and said: “All right, I believe You. If I do not believe You, I am an idiot. And I agree to do what You ask, but I have no idea how. You are going to have to do it for me, because I am not going to stand at the street corner and lay hands on the people who pass by.” For a few months, I kept the first names of the people over whom I prayed. After eleven months, I had prayed over 1,500 people, and I had seen 150 miracles.
Afterwards, I decided to stop writing down the names, because it concerns the Lord, and all the glory must go to Him. It is He who acts. I have seen so many miracles! I am certain that my jaw was hanging to the ground all day long, I was so in awe of the goodness of God. He is so full of love, and He heals us. I saw so many miracles. Not a week went by without my witnessing a miracle. Once, I saw feet that were all swollen become unswollen before my eyes. It surpasses anything one can imagine.
I am still filled with wonder every time it happens.
Having visions
In the spring of 1998, things became a little complicated. I began to have visions. I thought I had truly gone mad, because I was seeing things... (in my head). This always happened when I was at prayer with my eyes closed. When I began to have visions, my mother suggested that I find myself a spiritual adviser. I found one in the person of Sister Pauline. She is a wonderful adviser. She explained to me that the Lord uses my imagination, my knowledge, and my past experiences and forms images in my head. The Lord teaches me through these visions, and sometimes He gives me a message for the person over whom I am praying. The Holy Spirit makes me understand the meaning of the vision, even though most of them are self-evident.
I would like to share three of these visions with you. I have received about fifty of them. I have copies of them at the back of the church, but I am going to share three now. I received one of them during Mass at St. Mary's church in the spring of 1999. The reading that day told of the conversion of St. Paul. I love that reading a great deal, and I was listening very attentively. Suddenly, the church appeared to me as being immense. I said to myself: “Oh! my goodness! I am having a vision right in the middle of Mass!” I closed my eyes, and the church kept growing. It had different levels.
It even had a dungeon and a little corridor that sank into the earth and filled with water. The water at the surface seemed very clear. Then it grew darker and became murky. The bottom was all muddy. All the people of the earth became fish in that water. The fish that were at the surface, in the clear water, could see Jesus feeding them. We were taking in all this food. For us it was fish food, and we were like hungry fish.
Those fish became very big and very strong. Those that were in somewhat deeper water did not always see the food, so they ate only every so often. And when they ate, they grew a little. They got lost in the dark water and became smaller and smaller. Those at the bottom were truly small. They never saw the food, never ate, and did not grow at all. I saw all this in colour, with lots of detail, as if I were watching a gigantic television screen. I was completely absorbed by what I saw. Then, suddenly, the water began to tremble. We looked at one another. We looked up at the sky, and we saw a flat-bottomed boat. Jesus was standing in that boat and was calling all the fish to come up to the boat.
The biggest fish, those at the surface, were strong enough that they could simply have jumped into the boat. But Jesus did not want them to do that. He cast an immense net into the water. The net had holes of different sizes, and the Virgin Mary was in the water with us. She said to us: “It is now time for you to gather in the net. Before entering the net, you must go and get the little fish in that corner over there.” She was sending the big fish to fetch the little fish and bring them into the net.
Some did not want to be left behind, so they clung to the fins of the biggest and thus managed to get into the net without too much trouble. Some took fright and went off in the other direction. The Virgin said: “Go and get those fish.” All the fish were being gathered. It was evident that it was the Virgin who was bringing all the fish into the net.
She said: “You must go and get the little fish that are at the bottom.” They did not want to come, and they hurled threatening cries at us, then swam backwards and buried themselves in the mud. We said: “Virgin Mary, they do not want to come up.” “Well,” she said to us, “go and get bigger fish and bring them all the way up.”
Finally, all the fish were gathered in the net, and Jesus lifted it. As he was lifting it, the fish that did not want to be there slipped in among the other fish and escaped through the holes. The fish that did not want to fall were supported by the biggest. As for the biggest, they could not fall, because they were bigger than the holes. Jesus gathered up the net and set it down in the boat. That was the end of the vision. When I came back to myself, I had missed the Gospel, the sermon, the universal prayers, and the Sanctus.
I heard: “On the night he was betrayed, Jesus took the bread...” I could see Jesus feeding us, just as before. It was a strange feeling, but it was one of the most beautiful visions I had ever had. It was like a recap of the whole Bible, for Jesus feeds us in the sacraments of Reconciliation and the Eucharist. We have everything we need to go to Heaven. Those who take what Jesus feeds us become strong, but they must pray for those who are not strong. Mary leads us to Jesus, and Jesus does not want to lose even the smallest of souls.
We will all have the chance to go to Jesus, but we also have the possibility of slipping in among the other fish and going out through the holes.
The second vision I want to share with you is this: We were at the top of a hill, and I could see a valley at my feet. I could see that they were crucifying Jesus. I could see them driving the nails into his hands. I saw everything. It was frightening, terrible to see, and I tell you that I cried. After Jesus' death, I saw a big cloud coming from the right side. I could see people scattered everywhere. There was thunder, rain, lightning, and the people were afraid. I saw the figure of God the Father.
I saw Him stretch out his hand and pick up the cross on which Jesus still was. He carried it to his right shoulder. I saw immense crevices in the ground, and people falling into the crevices. There was thunder and lightning. For a fraction of a second, I felt the disappointment that God felt toward his creation, to which He had sent his only Son to save us. And we keep on offending Him.
Vision during adoration
Then I saw his left hand appear. It was like a 3-dimensional image: a big hand suddenly appearing. His hand was closed; he opened it, and I saw a dove in his hand. He blew on the dove and let it fly away. The dove flew over the valley. Every time it beat its wing, I felt the displacement of air on my face. It was a very beautiful vision. Here is the other vision I would like to share with you. I received this vision during adoration. My mother had called me to ask me to pray for certain people.
I had about 20 minutes left of my hour of adoration. I closed my eyes and saw a very long table. It was about 60 feet long and covered with a white cloth. Jesus was sitting at the other end. I said: “Jesus, you are so far away. I know I am always bothering you because I ask you for this or that. You know, we would have to see some healings, because people no longer know you; they need proof.” As I was speaking, the table was getting smaller. It became shorter and shorter, and finally it was only a foot long.
Jesus was sitting right in front of me. He took my hands in his and looked me in the eyes. He said to me: “My beloved daughter, you are not bothering me. All those people for whom you pray are very precious to me. Tell them how much I love them. Do not worry when you find yourself in all those situations. I thank you for your boldness and your obedience. I am going to use you often. I love you, my daughter.” As you can see, I have had wonderful visions.
I would like to share with you a little of what I have been reflecting on for some time... how we are here to give glory to God. Everything we do during our lives should be for the purpose of giving glory to God, not for ourselves. We are very spoiled as a society. When we are hungry, we eat. When we are thirsty, we drink. When we do not feel well, we take something to feel better. We want to have everything, and right away. We are very spoiled. We always want more, more, more. There is so much suffering, and we wonder why.
It is the direct result of sin. The consequence of sin is suffering. It is that simple. If I steal 5 dollars from you, I am the one who commits the sin, and you are the person who suffers. The person who commits the sin is not necessarily the one who suffers. Since we are all part of the Body of Christ, we are brothers and sisters in Jesus. We are together in this world, and when we commit sin, it affects everyone. The good we do also affects everyone.
We know there are children dying of cancer in the hospitals. What have they done wrong? Whose fault is it? It is that we are sinners. If we did not sin so much, there would not be so much suffering in the world. Every sin must be atoned for, and we are so sinful. People have sexual relations left and right, live together without being married. Abortions are permitted in our own city.
We cheat and we lie, we speak against one another, we watch all sorts of abominations on television and at the cinema, and we go to Communion without having gone to Confession. Some people say: “I am not doing anything wrong. I am only hurting myself. I can go to hell if I want to; it is my choice.” No, we never go to hell alone, and we never go to Heaven alone. We always take a crowd with us. We are all responsible for the suffering in the world...
If you sin and do not ask forgiveness for that sin, and do not make reparation for that sin, and do not try to correct yourself, I guarantee you that someone will suffer for that sin, either you, or someone in your family, or even a stranger, but someone will suffer for that sin. Every sin must be atoned for, but we must remember that Jesus died for each one of us; his mercy is infinite! So, if we ask him for forgiveness, Jesus will forgive us.
When we go to Confession, our sins are forgiven, and the bonus is that with the absolution we receive in the sacrament of Reconciliation, we receive grace, that marvellous grace. What is grace? It is an invisible help from God. Who does not need it?
What are we doing about the terrible state the world is in? We must become the saints the Lord wants us to be. How do we become saints? We become so by praying, by receiving the Eucharist, by going to Confession, by asking mercy for our souls every day (a daily conversion of the heart), by reciting the Rosary every day, by fasting, by doing penance, by loving our neighbour as Jesus loves us. In short, by following the commandments! In a million years, our souls will still be just as alive as they are today. There are only two places where we can be, and it is now that we must choose where we want to be in a million years. I want to see you all in Heaven.
Update (March 2008)
My life continues to be filled with the privilege of witnessing the glory of God and the action of the Holy Spirit almost daily. We gather at my home every Tuesday for a Marian Cenacle. Those gatherings are extraordinary. More and more people attend them; we have between 50 and 60 people who come faithfully every week. I pray with many people, either by telephone or in person. I have given several conferences in churches and halls (in the region and in the east, in England, in Ireland). My children are growing up; so I can travel more easily, and I will go and speak wherever I am invited. Arrangements can be made by contacting me through this website.
The visions and inner locutions of Jesus and Mary are full of love, mercy, and hope. Many people have gotten in touch with me through this website, and I add their prayer intentions to my daily intentions. I feel that there is an underground network of prayer that is discreet but very powerful. It will contribute to the triumph of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
I pray that the Holy Spirit will descend upon every person on earth, so that each one may live a real conversion of the heart.