"Some of them."
"In the visitations at Lourdes, the phrases uttered by Our Lady wouldn't fill half a page of a notebook, but one of the things the Virgin said clearly to the girl was 'I do not promise you happiness in this world.' Why did she warn Bernadette? Because she knew the pain that awaited Bernadette if she accepted her mission."
I looked at the sun, the snow, and the bare branches of the trees.
"He is a revolutionary," he continued, sounding humble. "He has the power, and he converses with Our Lady. If he is able to concentrate his forces well, he can be one of the leaders in the spiritual transformation of the human race. This is a critical point in the history of the world.
"But if he chooses this path, he is going to go through a great deal of suffering. His revelations have come to him before their time. I know the human soul well enough to know what he can expect."
The padre turned to me and held me by the shoulders. "Please," he said. "Keep him from the suffering and tragedy that lie in store for him. He will not be able to survive them."
"I understand your love for him, Padre."
He shook his head. "No, no. You don't understand anything. You are still too young to know the evils of the world. At this point, you see yourself as a revolutionary too. You want to change the world with him, open new paths, see the story of your love for each other become legend--a story passed down through the generations. You still think that love can conquer all."
"Well, can't it?"
"Yes, it can. But it conquers at the right time--after the celestial battles have ended."
"But I love him. I don't have to wait for the celestial battles to end for my love to win out."
He gazed into the distance.
/> "On the banks of the rivers of Babylon, we sat down and wept," he said, as if talking to himself. "On the willows there, we hung up our harps."
"How sad," I answered.
"Those are the first lines of one of the psalms. It tells of exile and of those who want to return to the promised land but cannot. And that exile is still going to last for a long time. What can I do to try to prevent the suffering of someone who wants to return to paradise before it is time to do so?"
"Nothing, Padre. Absolutely nothing."
THERE HE IS," said the padre.
I saw him. He was about two hundred yards from me, kneeling in the snow. He was shirtless, and even from that distance, I could see that his skin was red with the cold.
His head was bowed and his hands joined in prayer. I don't know if I was influenced by the ritual I had attended the night before or by the woman who had been gathering hay, but I felt that I was looking at someone with an incredible spiritual force. Someone who was no longer of this world--who lived in communion with God and with the enlightened spirits of heaven. The brilliance of the snow seemed to strengthen this perception.
"At this moment, there are others like him," said the priest. "In constant adoration, communing with God and the Virgin. Hearing the angels, the saints, the prophecies and words of wisdom, and transmitting all of that to a small gathering of the faithful. As long as they continue in this way, there won't be a problem.
"But he is not going to remain here. He is going to travel the world, preaching the concept of the Great Mother. The church is not yet ready for that. And the world has stones at hand to hurl at those who first introduce the subject."
"And it has flowers to throw on those who come afterward."
"Yes. But that's not what will happen to him."
The priest began to approach him.
"Where are you going?"
"To bring him out of his trance. To tell him how much I like you. To say that I give my blessing to your union. I want to do that here, in this place, which for him is sacred."
I began to feel sick with an inexplicable fear.
"I have to think, Padre. I don't know if this is right."
"It's not right," he answered. "Many parents make mistakes with their children, thinking they know what's best for them. I'm not his father, and I know I'm doing the wrong thing. But I have to fulfill my destiny."
I was feeling more and more anxious.