But I cannot hide from you a secret sorrow of mine:
among many, only three.
In the history of the centuries, how many times is this sorrow of mine and this human ingratitude not repeated!
My Son and I do nothing but make stars arise, one more beautiful than the other, to call some to know their Creator, some to sanctity, some to rise again from sin, some to the heroism of a sacrifice…
But do you want to know what these stars are?
A painful encounter is a star. A truth that one comes to know is a star. A love unrequited by other creatures is a star. A setback, a suffering, a disillusion, an unexpected fortune... are many stars which shed light in the minds of creatures.
Caressing them...
they want to make them find the Celestial Infant.
Who is fidgeting with love, shivering with cold, and seeking a refuge in their hearts to be known and loved.
But alas, I who hold Him in my arms, wait in vain for the stars to bring me the creatures, in order to place Him in their hearts. And my maternity is restrained, hindered. While I am the Mother of Jesus, I am prevented from being the mother of all, because they are not around me, and do not look for Jesus.
So the stars hide, and they remain...
in the Jerusalems of the world, without Jesus.
What sorrow.
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