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«Dear children, peace!

On August 5, rejoice with Me.

This is the day on which you commemorate My birth, the gift of life that the Eternal Father granted Me from all eternity in His love.

Everything in Me belongs to God, and therefore all honor and all glory be given to Him.

Children, I do not wish for this date to be only a remembrance of My birth, but a day when every heart renews its hope. The

Father allowed Me to come into the world to prepare the way for the Savior, and since then My mission has been to lead all My children to Jesus.

As I have reminded you on other occasions, celebrate this day with joy, prayer, and conversion.

Even though this is the day on which you commemorate my birth, it is I who wish to give you presents.

On this day, I pour out special graces upon those who draw near to God with humility (the Blessed Mother sighs…), pray with faith, and open their hearts to His love.

My children, a mother finds her greatest happiness when she sees her children walking in the light.

The greatest gift that you can offer Me is a holy life, a sincere confession, participation in the Eucharist, and a heart full of love.

I love you with a Mother’s love, I never abandon you.

I pray for each one of you.

I wipe away many tears.

I strengthen the discouraged and lead to Jesus those who trust in My protection.

On this day of My birth, gather together in prayer.

Pray the Holy Rosary, thank the Lord for the gift of life, and receive the blessings I wish to bestow generously.

Remain in peace, hope, and love.

I bless you and always lead you to the Heart of My Son Jesus». 

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2. Maria Valtorta: Vision of the Birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Excerpts from “The Poem of The Man-God,” Book I, Chapter 7

Vision of August 26, 1944

Maria Valtorta: I see Anne coming out of the garden. She is leaning on the arm of a relative, who is like her. She is obviously several months pregnant and she looks tired and her fatigue is not alleviated by the sultriness, just as this present heat is exhausting me. Although the garden is shady, it is very hot and close. The air can be cut like a soft warm dough; it is so heavy. The sun’s rays descend from a merciless blue sky and there is some dust making the atmosphere slightly dull. The weather must have been dry for a long time, because where there is no irrigation, the land is literally reduced to a very fine, almost white dust. Out in the open this shade of white is slightly pink, whereas it is a dark red-brown under the trees, where the soil is damp. Likewise, the ground is moist along the small flower-beds, where rows of vegetables are growing, and around the rose bushes, the jasmines and other flowers, and particularly in the front of and along the beautiful pergola, which divides the orchard in two, up to the beginning of the fields, now stripped of their crops. The grass of the meadow, which marks the boundary of the property, is parched and thin. Only at its border, where there is a hedge of wild hawthorn, already completely studded with the rubies of its little fruits, is the grass greener and thicker. There are some sheep thereabouts with a young shepherd seeking pasture and shade.

Joachim is working around the rows of vines and olive-trees. There are two men with him, helping him. Although an elderly man he is quick and works eagerly. They are opening little channels at the end of a field to give water to the dry plants, and this water makes its way gurgling between the grass and the dry land. The flow forms circles that for one moment resemble a yellowish crystal and seconds later are only rings of wet soil, around the overloaded vine branches and the olive-trees. Along the shady pergola, under which golden bees are buzzing, greedy for the sugar of the golden grapes, Anne moves slowly towards Joachim, who hastens towards her as soon as he sees her.

J. « You came so far? »

A. « The house is as hot as an oven. »

J. « And you suffer from it. »

A. « The only suffering of this last hour is that of a pregnant woman. The natural suffering of everybody: man and beast. Don’t get too warm, Joachim. »

J. « The water we have been hoping for, for such a long time, and that for fully three days seemed so close, has not yet come and the country is parched. We are lucky to have a spring so near and so rich in water. I have opened the channels. It is a measure of relief for the plants which have withering leaves and are covered with dust: just enough to keep them alive. If it would only rain… »

Joachim, with the eagerness of all farmers, looks at the sky, while Anne, tired, cools herself with a fan that seems to be made of the dry leaf of a palm interwoven with many-coloured threads keeping it firm. Anne’s companion interrupts:

J.« Over there, beyond the Great Hermon, fast clouds are arising. There is a northern wind. It will refreshen and perhaps bring rain. »

J. « The breeze has risen for three days and then it set’s when the moon rises. It will do the same again. »

Joachim is discouraged.

A. « Let us go back home. Even here one can hardly breathe, and in any case I think it is better to go back… »

Says Anne, who looks more olive-hued than usual, owing to a paleness which has come over her face.

J. « Are you in pain? »

A. « No. But I can feel the great peace that I experienced in the Temple when I was granted the grace, and which I felt once again when I knew I was pregnant. It is like an ecstasy, a sweet sleep of the body while the soul rejoices and calms itself in a peace that has no bodily parallel. I have loved and still do love you, Joachim, and when I entered your house and I said to myself: “I am the wife of a just man”, I had peace: and I felt the same every time your provident love took care of your Anne. But this peace is different. Understand: I think that the soul of our father Jacob was invaded by a similar peace, like the soothing given by oil that spreads and appeases, after he dreamt of the angels. And, possibly more accurately, it is like the joyful peace of the Tobiahs after Raphael appeared to them. If I absorb myself in this feeling, it grows more and more in strength while I enjoy it. It is as if I were ascending into the blue spaces of the sky… And furthermore, I don’t know the reason for it, but since I have had this peaceful joy in me, I have a song in my heart: old Tobiah’s song. I think it was written for this hour… for this joy… for the land of Israel that receives it… for Jerusalem-sinner and now forgiven… But do not laugh at the frenzy of a mother… but when I say: “Thank the Lord for your wealth and bless the God of centuries, that He may rebuild His Tabernacle in you”, I think that He Who will rebuild the Tabernacle of the true God in Jerusalem will be This One who is about to be born… And I also think that the destiny of my creature was prophesied and not the fate of the Holy City, when the song says: “You shall shine with a bright light: all the peoples of the world will prostrate themselves before you: the nations will come bringing gifts: they will worship the Lord in you and will hold your land as sacred, because within you they invoke the Great Name. You will be happy on account of your children, because they will all be blessed and they will gather near the Lord. Blessed are those who love you and rejoice in your peace… ” And I am the first to rejoice, her happy mother… »

Anne changes color, when saying these words and she lights up like something brought from the paleness of moonlight to the brightness of a great fire and vice versa. Sweet tears, of which she is unaware, run down her cheeks and she smiles in her joy. And in the meantime, she moves towards the house, walking between her husband and her relative, who listen and, deeply moved, are silent. They make haste because clouds driven by a strong wind, rush across and gather in the sky, while the plain darkens and shudders at the warning of a storm. When they reach the threshold of the dwelling, a first livid flash of lightning crosses the sky and the rumble of the first peal of thunder sounds like the roll of a huge drum that mingles with the arpeggio (arpeggio: the sounding of notes in rapid succession.) of the first drops on the parched leaves. They all go in and Anne withdraws, while Joachim, standing at the door, talks with the workers, who have in the meantime joined him: the conversation is about the longed-for water which is a blessing for the parched land. But their joy turns into fear because a very violent storm is approaching with lightning and clouds threatening hail.

J. « If the cloud bursts, it will crush the grapes and the olives like a millstone. Poor me! »

Joachim is also anxious for his wife, whose time has come to give birth to her child. His relative reassures him that Anne is not suffering at all. But he is agitated, and every time his relative or any other woman, amongst whom is Alphaeus’ mother, comes out of Anne’s room and goes back in again with hot water and basins and linens dried near the blazing fireplace in the large kitchen, he goes and makes enquiries, but he does not calm down despite their reassurances. Also the lack of cries from Anne worries him. He says:

J. « I am a man and I have never seen a child being born. But I remember hearing that the absence of throes is fatal. »

It is growing dark and the evening is preceded by a furious and very violent storm: it brings torrential rain, wind, lightning, everything, except hail, which has fallen elsewhere. One of the workers notices the ferocity of the gale:

« It looks as if Satan has come out of Gehenna with his demons. Look at those black clouds! You can smell Sulphur in the air and you can hear whistling and hisses, and wailing and cursing voices. If it is him, he is furious this evening! »

The other worker laughs and scoffs:

« A great prey must have escaped him, or Michael has struck him with a new thunderbolt from God, and he has had his horns and tail clipped and burnt. »

A woman passes by and shouts:

« Joachim! It is coming. And it is happening quickly and well! »

[The woman] disappears with a small amphora in her hands. The storm drops suddenly, after one last thunderbolt that is so violent that it throws the three men against the side wall; and in front of the house, in the garden, a black smoky cavity remains as its memory! Meanwhile a cry, one resembling the tiny plea of a little turtle-dove that for the very first time no longer peeps but cooes, is heard from beyond Anne’s door. And at the same time a huge rainbow stretches its semicircle across the sky.

It rises, or seems to rise, from the top of Hermon, which kissed by the sun, looks like a most delicate pinkish alabaster: it rises up … through an atmosphere cleaned of all impurities, it crosses over the hills of Galilee and the plain to the South, and over another mountain, and seems to rest the other end on the distant horizon, where it drops from view behind a chain of high mountains.

« We have never seen anything like this! »

« Look, look! »

« It seems to enclose in a circle the whole of the land of Israel. And look! there is already a star in the sky while the sun has not yet set. What a star! It is shining like a huge diamond!… »

« And the moon, over there, is a full moon, three days early. But look how she is shining! »

The women arrive jubilant with a plump little baby wrapped in plain linens. It is Mary, the Mother. A very tiny Mary, who could sleep in the arms of a child, a Mary as long, at most, as an arm, with a little head of ivory dyed pale pink. Her tiny carmine lips no longer cry but are set in the instinctive act of sucking: they are so small that one cannot understand how they will be able to take a teat. Her pretty little nose is between two tiny round cheeks, and when they get Her to open Her eyes, by teasing Her, they see two small parts of the sky, two innocent blue points that look but cannot see, between thin fair eyelashes.

Also Her hair on Her little round head is a pinkish blond, like the color of certain honeys which are almost white. Her ears are two small shells, transparent, perfect. Her tiny hands… what are those two little things groping in the air and ending up in Her mouth? Closed, as they are now, they are two rose buds that split the green of their sepals and show their silk within. When they are open, as now, they are two ivory jewels, made of pink ivory and alabaster with five pale garnets as nails. How will those two tiny hands be able to dry so many tears? And Her little feet? Where are they? For the time being they are just kicking, hidden in the linens.

… Here She is again, in Her linens, in the arms of Her earthly father, whom She resembles. Not at the moment. Now She is just a little human baby. I mean that She will be like him when She has grown into a woman. She has nothing of Her mother. She has Her father’s colour of complexion and eyes and certainly also his hair. His hair is now white, but when he was young it was certainly fair, as one can tell from his eyebrows. She has Her father’s features, made more perfect and gentle, being a woman, but that special Woman. She has also the smile, the glance, the way of moving and height of Her father.

Thinking of Jesus, as I see Him, I find Anne has given her height to her Grandson and her deep ivory colour to His skin. Mary, instead, has not the stateliness of Her mother: a tall and supple palm-tree, but She has the kindness of Her father.

Also the women are speaking of the storm and the unusual state of the moon, of the presence of the star and the rainbow. Along with Joachim they enter the happy mother’s room and give her her baby. Anne smiles at one of her thoughts:

A. « She is the Star » (she says) « Her sign is in Heaven. Mary, arch of peace! Mary, my Star! Mary, pure moon! Mary, our pearl! »

J. « Are you calling Her Mary? »

A. « Yes. Mary, star and pearl and light and peace… »

J. « But it means also bitterness… Are you not afraid of bringing Her misfortune? »

A. « God is with Her. She belongs to Him before She existed. He will lead Her along His ways and all bitterness will turn into heavenly honey. Now be of Your mummy… for a little longer, before being all of God… »

And the vision ends on the first sleep of Anne, a mother, and Mary, an infant.