Venerable Francisco Marto of Fatima

Joseph A. Cirrincione

• Publisher: TAN Books
• Year: 2009
• ISBN:
  9781505108279
• Topic: Teologia e religione
• Subtopic: Denominazioni cristiane

Excerpted from "Fatima in Lucia's Own Words" where Sister Lucia describes the life and character of her cousin, showing the effect of the Apparition on him to have been a desire "to console" Our Lord. Undoubtedly a Saint.

FRANCISCO'S CHARACTER

(From Fatima, In Lucia's Own Words)

FRANCISCO'S SPIRITUALITY

I am going to begin then, Your Excellency, by writing what God wills to bring to my mind about Francisco. I hope that Our Lord will make him know in Heaven what I am writing about him on earth, so that he may intercede for me with Jesus and Mary, especially during these coming days.

The affection which bound me to Francisco was just one of kinship, and one which had its origin in the graces which Heaven deigned to grant us.

Apart from his features and his practice of virtue, Francisco did not seem at all to be Jacinta's brother. Unlike her, he was neither capricious nor vivacious. On the contrary, he was quiet and submissive by nature.

When we were at play and he won the game, if anyone made a point of denying him his rights as winner, he yielded without more ado and merely said: "You think you won? That's all right! I don't mind!"

He showed no love for dancing, as Jacinta did; he much preferred playing the flute while the others danced.

In our games he was quite lively; but few of us liked to play with him, as he nearly always lost. I must confess that I myself did not always feel too kindly disposed towards him, as his naturally calm temperament exasperated my own excessive vivacity. Sometimes I caught him by the arm, made him sit down on the ground or on a stone, and told him to keep still; he obeyed me as if I had real authority over him. Afterwards, I felt sorry and went and took him by the hand, and he would come along with me as good-humoredly as though nothing had happened. If one of the other children insisted on taking away something belonging to him, he said: "Let them have it! What do I care?"

I recall how, one day, he came to my house and was delighted to show me a handkerchief with a picture of Our Lady of Nazaré on it, which someone had brought him from the seaside. All the children gathered round him to admire it. The handkerchief was passed from hand to hand, and in a few minutes it disappeared. We looked for it, but it was nowhere to be found. A little later, I found it myself in another small boy's pocket. I wanted to take it away from him, but he insisted that it was his own and that someone had brought him one from the beach as well. To put an end to the quarrel, Francisco then went up to him and said: "Let him have it! What does a handkerchief matter to me?" My own opinion is that, if he had lived to manhood, his greatest defect would have been his attitude of "never mind!"

When I was seven and began to take our sheep out to pasture, he seemed to be quite indifferent. In the evenings, he waited for me in my parents' yard with his little sister, but this was not out of affection for me, but rather to please her. As soon as Jacinta heard the tinkling of the sheep bells, she ran out to meet me; whereas, Francisco waited for me, sitting on the stone steps leading up to our front door. Afterwards, he came with us to play on the old threshing floor, while we watched for Our Lady and the Angels to light their lamps [the stars]. He eagerly counted the stars with us, but nothing enchanted him as much as the beauty of sunrise or sunset. As long as he could still glimpse one last ray of the setting sun, he made no attempt to watch for the first lamp to be lit in the sky.

"No lamp is as beautiful as Our Lord's," he used to remark to Jacinta, who much preferred Our Lady's lamp because, as she explained, "It doesn't hurt our eyes." Enraptured, he watched the sunrays glinting on the window panes of the homes in the neighboring villages, or glistening in the drops of water which spangled the trees and furze bushes of the serra, making them shine like so many stars; in his eyes these were a thousand times more beautiful than the Angels' lamps.

When he persisted in pleading with his mother to let him take care of the flock and therefore come along with me, it was more to please Jacinta than anything else, for she much preferred Francisco's company to that of her brother John. One day his mother, already quite annoyed, refused this permission, and he answered with his usual tranquility: "Mother, it doesn't matter to me. It's Jacinta who wants me to go." He confirmed this on yet another occasion. One of my companions came to my house to invite me to go with her, as she had a particularly good pasturage in view for that day. As the sky was overcast, I went to my aunt's house to inquire who was going out that day, Francisco and Jacinta, or their brother John; in case of the latter, I preferred the company of my former companion. My aunt had already decided that, as it looked like rain, John should go. But Francisco went to his mother again, and insisted on going himself. He received a curt and decided "No," whereupon he exclaimed:

"It's all the same with me. It is Jacinta who feels badly about it_."

NATURAL INCLINATIONS

What Francisco enjoyed most, when we were out on the mountains together, was to perch on the top of the highest rock, and sing or play his flute. If his little sister came down to run races with me, he stayed up there entertaining himself with his music and song.

He always took part in our games when we invited him, but he seldom waxed enthusiastic, remarking: "I'll go, but I know I'll be the loser." These were the games we knew and found most entertaining: pebbles, forfeits, pass the ring, buttons, hit the mark, quoits, and card games such as the bisca game, turning up the kings, queens and knaves, and so on. We had two packs of cards; I had one and they had the other. Francisco liked best to play cards, and the bisca was his favorite game.

FRANCISCO SEES THE ANGEL

During the Apparition of the Angel, he prostrated like his sister and myself, carried away by the same supernatural force that moved us to do so; but he learned the prayer by hearing us repeat it, since, he told us, he heard nothing of what the Angel said.

Afterwards, when we prostrated to say that prayer, he was the first to feel the strain of such a posture; but he remained kneeling or sitting, and still praying until we had finished. Later he said: "I am not able to stay like that for a long time, like you. My back aches so much that I can't do it."

At the second Apparition of the Angel, down by the well, Francisco waited a few moments after it was over, then asked:

"You spoke to the Angel. What did he say to your?"

"Didn't you hear?"

"No. I could see that he was talking to you. I heard what you said to him; but what he said to you, I don't know."

As the supernatural atmosphere in which the Angel left us, had not yet entirely disappeared, I told him to ask Jacinta or myself next day.

"Jacinta, you tell me what the Angel said."

"I'll tell you tomorrow. Today I can't talk about it."

Next day, as soon as he came up to me, he asked me:

"Did you sleep last night? I kept thinking about the Angel, and what he could have said."

I then told him all that the Angel had said at the first and second Apparitions. But it seemed that he had not received an understanding of all that the words meant, for he asked:

"Who is the Most High? What is the meaning of 'The Hearts of Jesus and Mary are attentive to the voice of your supplications?'. . ."

Having received an answer, he remained deep in thought for a while and then broke in with another question. But my mind was not yet free, so I told him to wait until the next day because at that moment I was unable to speak. He waited quite contentedly, but he did not let slip the very next opportunity of putting more questions. This made Jacinta say to him:

"Listen! We shouldn't talk much about these things."

When we spoke about the Angel, I don't know what it was that we felt.

"I don't know how I feel," Jacinta said. "I can no longer talk or sing or play. I haven't strength enough for anything."

"Neither have I," replied Francisco, "but what of it? The Angel is more beautiful than all this. Let's think about him."

In the third Apparition, the presence of the supernatural made itself felt more intensely still. For several days even Francisco did not venture to speak. Later he said:

"I love to see the Angel, but the worst of it is that, afterwards, we are unable to do anything. I couldn't even walk. I don't know what was the matter with me."

In spite of that, after the third Apparition of the Angel, it was he who noticed that it was getting dark and who drew our attention to the fact and thought we should take our flocks back home.

Once the first few days were over and we had returned to normal, Francisco asked:

"The Angel gave you Holy Communion, but what was it that he gave to Jacinta and me?"

"It was Holy Communion, too," replied Jacinta, with inexpressible joy. "Didn't you see that it was the Blood that fell from the Host?"

"I felt that God was within me, but I did not know how!"

Then, prostrating on the ground, he and his sister remained for a long time, saying over and over again the prayer of the Angel, "Most Holy Trinity. . ."

Little by little, the atmosphere of the supernatural faded away, and by the 13th of May, we were playing with almost as much enjoyment and freedom of spirit as we had done before.

IMPRESSIONS OF THE FIRST APPARITION

The Apparition of Our Lady plunged us once more into the atmosphere of the supernatural, but this time more gently. Instead of that annihilation in the Divine Presence, which exhausted us even physically, it left us filled with peace and expansive joy, which did not prevent us from speaking afterwards of what had happened. However, with regard to the light communicated to us when Our Lady opened her hands and everything connected with this light, we experienced a kind of interior impulse that compelled us to keep silent.

Afterwards, we told Francisco all that Our Lady had said. He was overjoyed and expressed the happiness he felt when he heard of the promise that he would go to Heaven. Crossing his hands on his breast, he exclaimed, "Oh, my dear Our Lady! I'll say as many rosaries as you want!" And from then on, he made a habit of moving away from us, as though going for a walk. When we called him and asked him what he was doing, he raised his hand and showed me his rosary. If we told him to come and play, and say the Rosary with us afterwards, he replied:

"I'll pray then as well. Don't you remember that Our Lady said I must pray many Rosaries?"

He said to me on one occasion: "I loved seeing the Angel, but I loved still more seeing Our Lady. What I loved most of all was to see Our Lord in that light from Our Lady which penetrated our hearts. I love God so much! But He is very sad because of so many sins! We must never commit any sins again."

I have already said, in the second account about Jacinta, how he was the one who gave me the news that she had broken our agreement not to say anything. As he shared my opinion that the matter should be kept secret, he added sadly: "As for me, when my mother asked me if it were true, I had to say that it was, so as not to tell a lie."

From time to time, he said: "Our Lady told us that we would have much to suffer, but I don't mind. I'll suffer all that she wishes! What I want is to go to Heaven!"

One day, when I showed how unhappy I was over the persecution now beginning both in my family and outside, Francisco tried to encourage me with these words:

"Never mind! Didn't Our Lady say that we would have much to suffer, to make reparation to Our Lord and to her own Immaculate Heart for all the sins by which They are offended? They are so sad! If we can console Them with these sufferings, how happy we shall be!"

When we arrived at our pasturage a few days after Our Lady's first Apparition, he climbed up to the top of a steep rock, and called out to us:

"Don't come up here; let me stay here alone."

"All right." And off I went, chasing butterflies with Jacinta. We no sooner caught them than we made the sacrifice of letting them fly away, and we never gave another thought to Francisco. When lunch time came, we missed him and went to call him:

"Francisco, don't you want to come for your lunch?"

"No, you eat."

"And to pray the Rosary?"

"That, yes, later on. Call me again."

When I went to call him again, he said to me:

"You come up here and pray with me."

We climbed up to the peak, where the three of us could scarcely find room to kneel down, and I asked him:

"But what have you been doing all this time?"

"I am thinking about God, Who is so sad becau...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Introduction
• FRANCISCO'S CHARACTER
• Prayer for the Beatification of Francisco Marto of Fatima
• Prayer for the Beatification of Jacinta Marto of Fatima