A Seen Visitor

Even as a small child, my Great Grand-Mother, Adele, spent many hours learning me prayers and the rosary, usually said in french. She took me to church to say the rosary in the afternoon’s before I started going to school and after I went when school wasn’t in. 

One day, she and the Priest were talking up front, when he motioned her to look at me from across the church. I was lighting a candle while talking to a vision of a man who was standing with me. I was called over to the priest who asked me who the man was.  I told him the man had asked me my name, then wanted to know my name, and that he said I had the same name as he.He told me he was Jesus. “What did he mean, Beverly?” I wouldn’t answer him. I started to cry. I was afraid that he would be angry with me as it happened with other witnesses by now, my Great Grand Mother told the priest.  The priest was sad. He said I didn’t have to tell anyone what was said to me, ever! A big moment for a young child. From that day, I never told anything, for years…unless someone asked.