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to make Her more beautiful, more powerful,
more filled with love, more maternal, more ra­
vishing, and I could have wiped away Her tears which made my heart leap with compassion and love.
To see a mother cry, and such a Mother, without doing everything possible to comfort her and
change her grief in to joy, is that possible? Oh! Mother, who is more than good, you have been
formed with all the prerogatives God is able to make; you have married the power of God, so to
speak; you are good, and more, you are good with the goodness of God Himself. God has extended
Himself by making you His terrestrial and celestial masterpiece.

The Most Holy Virgin had a yellow pinafore. What am I saying, yellow? She had a pinafore more
brilliant than several suns put together. It was not of tangible material, it was composed of
glory, and this glory was scintillating, and ravishingly beautiful. Everything in the Holy Virgin
carried me firmly and made me kind of slide in to the adoration and love of my Jesus in every state
of His mortal life.

The Most Holy Virgin had two chains, one a little wider than the other. From the narrower one
hung the cross which I mentioned earlier.
These chains (since they must be given the name of chains) were like rays of brightly shining glo­
ry, sparkling and dazzling. Her shoes, (since they must be called shoes) were white, but a silvery
brilliant white. There were roses around them. These roses were dazzlingly beautiful, and from