On an chilly day in December of 1531, Our Lady promises Juan Diego that he will find flowers blossoming on a nearby hilltop. He gathers roses, lilies, carnations, iris, fragrant jasmine blossoms, yellow gorse and tiny violets. The Virgin arranges the flowers in the fold of Juan’s coarse cactus-fiber tilma and sends him to visit the bishop in Mexico City. When Juan opens his robe, the flowers tumble to the floor before the bishop, and he sees Our Blessed Lady’s lovely handiwork. He falls to his knees in prayer, for she has painted her self-portrait with spring blossoms on Juan's tilma.
Mary is at the center of what Pope Francis has called “the revolution of tenderness." Today as we remember Our Lady of Guadalupe, we recall her words to Saint Juan Diego:
Do listen, do be assured of it, my littlest one, that nothing at all should alarm you, should trouble you, nor in any way disturb your countenance, your heart. For am I not here, I, your mother? Are you not in the cool of my shadow? In the breeziness of my shade? Is it not I that am your source of contentment? Are you not cradled in my mantle, cuddled in the crossing of my arms? Is there anything else you need?
Mary is at the center of what Pope Francis has called “the revolution of tenderness." Today as we remember Our Lady of Guadalupe, we recall her words to Saint Juan Diego:
Do listen, do be assured of it, my littlest one, that nothing at all should alarm you, should trouble you, nor in any way disturb your countenance, your heart. For am I not here, I, your mother? Are you not in the cool of my shadow? In the breeziness of my shade? Is it not I that am your source of contentment? Are you not cradled in my mantle, cuddled in the crossing of my arms? Is there anything else you need?