35. The Flight into Egypt.

9th June 1944.

My spirit sees the following scene.

It is night. Joseph is sleeping in his little bed in his very small room: the peaceful sleep of a man after a hard day’s honest and diligent work.

I can see him in the dark room, because a thin ray of moonlight filters in through the window shutters left ajar, either because Joseph is too warm in the little room or because he wants to be woken by the early rays of light at daybreak and get up at once. He is lying on one side and is smiling at some vision he sees in his dream.

But his smile turns into an expression of anxiety. He is now sighing deeply as if he had a nightmare and he awakes with a start. He sits up on his bed, rubs his eyes and looks around. He looks at the little window where the feeble light comes in. It is the dead of night but he grasps his robe which is lying at the bottom of the bed, and still sitting on the bed he pulls it on over the white shortsleeved tunic which he is wearing next to his skin. He pulls the blanket away, puts his feet on the floor and looks for his sandals. He puts them on and ties them. He stands up and goes towards the door facing his bed, not the one at the side of his bed leading into the big room where the Magi were received.

He knocks very gently, a very soft knocking with the tips of his fingers. He must have heard a voice asking him to enter because he opens the door carefully and sets it ajar without making any noise. Before going to the door he has lit a small one-flamed oil lamp, and lights his way with it. He goes in. The room is a little larger than his own, and there is a low bed in it, near a cradle, with a night lamp in a corner, the flickering flame of which seems a little star with a soft golden light that allows one to see without disturbing any sleeper.

But Mary is not sleeping. She is kneeling near the cradle in Her light dress and is praying, watching Jesus Who is sleeping peacefully. Jesus is the same age as I saw Him in the vision of the Magi: a Child about one year old, beautiful, rosy and fair haired. He is sleeping with His curly head sunk in the pillow and a clenched fist under His chin.

«Are You not sleeping?» Joseph asks Her in a low surprised voice. «Why not? Is Jesus not well?»

«Oh, no! He is all right. I am praying. Later I will sleep. Why have you come, Joseph?» Mary speaks, kneeling on the same spot.

Joseph speaks in a very low voice lest he should awaken the Child, but it is an excited voice. «We must go away from here at once. It must be at once. Prepare the coffer and a sack with everything You can put in them. I'll prepare the rest, I'll take as much as I can... We will flee at dawn. I would go even sooner but I must speak to the landlady...»

«But why this flight?»

«I will tell You later. It’s because of Jesus. An angel said to me: ”Take the Child and His Mother and escape into Egypt.” Don’t waste any time. I’m going to prepare what I can.»

There is no need to tell Mary not to waste time. As soon as She heard Joseph mention an angel, Jesus and flight, She understood that Her Creature was in danger and She jumped to Her feet, Her face whiter than wax, holding one hand against Her heart, completely distressed. And She began to move about, quick and agile, laying the clothes in the coffer and in a large sack which She placed on Her bed still untouched. Although She is disheartened, She does not lose Her head: She acts quickly but orderly. Now and again, when passing near the cradle, She looks at the Child Who is sleeping calmly.

«Do you need help?» Joseph asks now and again, peeping into the room through the door ajar.

«No, thank you» replies Mary every time.

Only when Her sack is full, and it is obviously very heavy, She calls Joseph to help Her to close it and take it off the bed. But Joseph does not want any help, he prefers to do it himself, and he takes the long sack into his little room.

«Shall I take also the woollen blankets?» asks Mary.

«Take as much as You can. We will lose the rest. Do take as much as You can. Things will be useful because... because we will have to stay away for a long time, Mary!...» Joseph is very sad in saying so. And one can easily imagine how Mary feels. She folds Her blankets and Joseph's, sighing deeply. Joseph ties the blankets with a rope and while doing so, he says: «We will leave the quilts and the mats. Even if I take three donkeys I cannot overload them. We will have a long and uncomfortable journey, partly in the mountains and in the desert. Cover Jesus well. The nights will be cold both up in the mountains and in the desert. I have taken the gifts of the Magi because they will be very useful down there. I am going to spend all the money I have to buy two donkeys. We cannot send them back, so | will have to buy them. I'll go now, without awaiting dawn. I know where to find them. You finish preparing everything.» And he goes out.

Mary gathers a few more things, then, after looking at Jesus, She goes out and comes back with some little dresses which appear to be still damp: perhaps they were washed the day before. She folds them, wraps them up in a cloth, and adds them to the other things. There is nothing else. She looks round and in a corner She sees one of Jesus’ toys: a little sheep carved in wood. She picks it up sobbing, and kisses it. On the wood there are traces of Jesus’ little teeth and the ears of the little sheep are all nibbled. Mary caresses the thing without any value, a plain piece of light wood, which, however, is of great value to Her, because it tells Her of Joseph's love for Jesus and speaks to Her of Her Child. She adds it to the other things placed on the closed coffer.

Now there is really nothing else. Except Jesus in the little cradle. Mary thinks She ought also to prepare the Child. She goes to the cradle and shakes it a little to wake up the Baby. But He whimpers a little, turns round and continues to sleep. Mary pats His curls gently. Jesus opens His little mouth yawning. Mary bends down and kisses His cheek. Jesus wakes up completely. He opens His eyes, sees His Mother and smiles and stretches His little hands towards Her breast.

«Yes, love of Your Mummy. Yes, Your milk. Before the usual time... But You are always ready to suck Your Mummy's breast, My little holy Lamb!»

Jesus laughs and plays, kicking His little feet out of the blankets, moving His arms happily in a typical childish style, so beautiful to see. He pushes His feet against His Mummy's stomach, He arches His back leaning His fair head on Her breast, and then throws Himself back and laughs, holding with His hands the laces that tie Mary’s dress to Her neck, endeavouring to open it. He looks most beautiful in His little linen shirt, plump and as rosy as a flower.

Mary bends down and in that position, looking through the cradle, as if for protection, She smiles and cries at the same time, while the Child prattles, uttering words which are not the words of all little children; among them the word «Mummy» is repeated very clearly. He looks at Her, surprised to see Her crying. He stretches one little hand towards the shiny traces of tears and it gets wet while patting Her face. And, very gracefully, He leans once again on His Mother’s breast, He clings to it and pats it with His hand.

Mary kisses His hair, takes Him up in Her arms, sits down and dresses Him. His little woollen dress has now been put on Him and His sandals have been tied on His feet. She nurses Him and Jesus avidly sucks His Mother’s good milk, and when He feels that only a little is coming from Her right breast, He looks for the left one, laughing while doing so and looking up at His Mother. Then He falls asleep again on Her breast, His rosy round little cheek resting against Her white round breast.