St. Lucy, who has been beseeched so much to bring me the gift of a return,810 instead brings me a heavenly vision which begins as I say the Rosary and Fatima prayers with Marta.
A night sky bursting with stars. A beautiful eastern sky of an almost black sapphire, entirely filled with clusters of stars. A nocturnal landscape sleeping in the night. Little white houses, all of them closed and silent. In the foreground, there is one which is nearly square-shaped, with its terrace and a sort of small dome - so clear that, if I were capable, I could sketch it in its minimum details. The landscape is slightly wavy, as if it were in a gentle basin between hills.
From the sky there descends a procession of angels of luminous whiteness, incorporeal and yet very perceptible to the human eye. Extremely beautiful. They form a curve like this,811 heading earthwards from the sky, towards the still, sleeping town, and the night becomes more luminous from the light of the angelic bodies. The first two, beautiful beyond description, descend swiftly, without moving their wings, though, with their hands crossed over their chests and their faces bending towards the town and sparkling with supernatural love. All the others follow behind. An incalculable number...!
I don’t know whether they made music by piercing through the atmosphere or by a palpitation of love. Perhaps the two things together produced it. It was certainly not material music, for which words, vocal cords, voices, and art are used. And since it was something supernatural, it was infinitely, indescribably lovely.... I cannot retain this nonhuman singing. My heart is filled with it, and my spirit, exalted. All of my afflictions are canceled out by it, but I cannot repeat even one note. I think - and I don’t know why - of that song which my St. John says will be sung only by those who follow the Lamb, by the 144,000 saved people who have not been sullied with sensuality....812
The white, harmonious, celestial troop passes and again journeys over the parabola joining earth to Heaven. I see them disappear after having grazed the earth and then come back down again, as if they were forming a wheel of flights from God’s throne to the town....
... And Jesus, only speaking, without appearing to me, says, “Look. May the first comfort of Christmastime be given to your suffering: the song that filled the horizons on the night which saw my birth. With their love the angels sing ‘Peace on earth to men of good will.’ They sing peace to you. Take delight in it. I bless you.”
And I now add - that is, twenty-four hours later, on the evening of December 14 - that I am still blissful from this shining, peaceful, harmonious angelic vision... and also experience joy - lesser, but still joy - for in my very short sleep I dreamed of something festive, like a promise which was to be fulfilled in ten days. I don’t remember what it’s about or who made it, since Toi813 woke me up so suddenly that I could not see what came after or recall exactly. But, I don’t know.... This spark of joy is also in my heart.
Don’t say, “Why, she’s not going to start believing in dreams now, is she?” Unfortunately, you see for yourself that the dreams on November 22, 24, 26, and 28814 have been more than borne out by events. I know from experience that since I was small the future has been announced to me in sleep.
810 A return to her house in Viareggio after the period of evacuation to St. Andrea di Compito.
811 The writer sketched a curved line proceeding downwards and towards the left-hand side.
812 Revelation 7:4.
813 The writer’s dog.
814 Mentioned on November 29.