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Authors: William Nicholson
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Brennan and the priest had to make a space for Mary to walk clear to the water’s edge. Monsignor McCloskey was there, and a man from the newspaper come up from Donegal with a flash camera.
‘You’ll not be making flashes at her when she’s talking to Our Lord,’ said Father Flannery, and the cameraman said no, he would take his pictures afterwards.
Mary Brennan was not disturbed one bit by the crowd. The priest asked her if she would like them sent away, and she said, ‘No, Father. The more who come the better. I have so many people to tell.’
It was this that impressed the priest as much as anything, the humble practical way in which the girl saw the whole business as a task entrusted to her, much as you might give her a letter to take to the post. There was no vanity in her. So supposing Jesus had a message to give to the world, who would he choose? Surely just such an innocent child as this.
As they waited for sunset there was much talk in the crowd about the now famous stillness. They all knew that at the moment Jesus came walking on the water, the sea would become still. Only Mary Brennan would see and hear Jesus, but all of them would witness the stillness.
And so it proved. Mary went forward, apart from the crowd, and reached out her arms. The sun, partly in clouds, sent out its golden setting light over the water. And the sea became still. Not everyone saw it, but many did. Father Flannery saw it. The monsignor thought he did not see it, there were waves still washing in to the beach, and out to sea there was the gentle heave of the swell. But then for a moment there did seem to come a pause, and a silence. But perhaps he only imagined it.
Mary spoke to Jesus, they saw her lips move, but no one heard her words. Then after a little time, in the afterlight of the sunset, she turned and faced them all, gathered in the little rock-girt bay.
‘Dear friends,’ she said. ‘I’m not speaking to you in my own words, but in the words of our Lord Jesus Christ. I’m only the voice.’
This voice was soft and small, and partly obscured by the hiss and rush of the waves. Those who were nearest to her remembered what she said and repeated it afterwards, and out of these repetitions came the prophecy, which took several forms. However, everyone who had been present that evening agreed that Jesus, speaking through the child, was saddened by the sinfulness of mankind.
‘Why do you hurt each other so, when I made you to love each other?’
Mary spoke of Noah and the flood, when God looked upon the earth and saw that it was corrupt and filled with violence and said, I will destroy man who I’ve created. Now such a time had come again. This time all living things would be destroyed by a great wind. Everyone remembered Mary speaking of the great wind.
‘When this great wind sweeps over the land,’ she said, ‘it will be made clean. Jesus told me these things weeping.’
They remembered that most of all, how Jesus wept for the child, there in Buckle Bay.
‘Tell my children,’ said Mary, speaking in the words given her by Jesus, ‘you must love each other or perish. Time is running out. I asked my Lord, When will this happen? He told me, Yours is the generation that will perish. I asked my Lord, What can we do? He told me, Love each other, and love my Father in heaven. I asked my Lord, will there be a warning given to us before the great wind comes? He told me, When the time is near I will speak with you again.’
So there it was: the warning, the prophecy, the promise. All this was felt to be a great honour and a responsibility by the people of Kilnacarry.
‘Now I’ve done as I was told,’ said the child in her soft voice. ‘I’ve spoken all the things he said. There’s nothing more.’
As she fell silent the flash camera exploded with a pop, andher ecstatic face was lit up for a second, and they all saw. The girl’s simple clear speech had a profound effect on all who heard it.
‘Jesus, Mary,
‘You’ll not be making flashes at her when she’s talking to Our Lord,’ said Father Flannery, and the cameraman said no, he would take his pictures afterwards.
Mary Brennan was not disturbed one bit by the crowd. The priest asked her if she would like them sent away, and she said, ‘No, Father. The more who come the better. I have so many people to tell.’
It was this that impressed the priest as much as anything, the humble practical way in which the girl saw the whole business as a task entrusted to her, much as you might give her a letter to take to the post. There was no vanity in her. So supposing Jesus had a message to give to the world, who would he choose? Surely just such an innocent child as this.
As they waited for sunset there was much talk in the crowd about the now famous stillness. They all knew that at the moment Jesus came walking on the water, the sea would become still. Only Mary Brennan would see and hear Jesus, but all of them would witness the stillness.
And so it proved. Mary went forward, apart from the crowd, and reached out her arms. The sun, partly in clouds, sent out its golden setting light over the water. And the sea became still. Not everyone saw it, but many did. Father Flannery saw it. The monsignor thought he did not see it, there were waves still washing in to the beach, and out to sea there was the gentle heave of the swell. But then for a moment there did seem to come a pause, and a silence. But perhaps he only imagined it.
Mary spoke to Jesus, they saw her lips move, but no one heard her words. Then after a little time, in the afterlight of the sunset, she turned and faced them all, gathered in the little rock-girt bay.
‘Dear friends,’ she said. ‘I’m not speaking to you in my own words, but in the words of our Lord Jesus Christ. I’m only the voice.’
This voice was soft and small, and partly obscured by the hiss and rush of the waves. Those who were nearest to her remembered what she said and repeated it afterwards, and out of these repetitions came the prophecy, which took several forms. However, everyone who had been present that evening agreed that Jesus, speaking through the child, was saddened by the sinfulness of mankind.
‘Why do you hurt each other so, when I made you to love each other?’
Mary spoke of Noah and the flood, when God looked upon the earth and saw that it was corrupt and filled with violence and said, I will destroy man who I’ve created. Now such a time had come again. This time all living things would be destroyed by a great wind. Everyone remembered Mary speaking of the great wind.
‘When this great wind sweeps over the land,’ she said, ‘it will be made clean. Jesus told me these things weeping.’
They remembered that most of all, how Jesus wept for the child, there in Buckle Bay.
‘Tell my children,’ said Mary, speaking in the words given her by Jesus, ‘you must love each other or perish. Time is running out. I asked my Lord, When will this happen? He told me, Yours is the generation that will perish. I asked my Lord, What can we do? He told me, Love each other, and love my Father in heaven. I asked my Lord, will there be a warning given to us before the great wind comes? He told me, When the time is near I will speak with you again.’
So there it was: the warning, the prophecy, the promise. All this was felt to be a great honour and a responsibility by the people of Kilnacarry.
‘Now I’ve done as I was told,’ said the child in her soft voice. ‘I’ve spoken all the things he said. There’s nothing more.’
As she fell silent the flash camera exploded with a pop, andher ecstatic face was lit up for a second, and they all saw. The girl’s simple clear speech had a profound effect on all who heard it.
‘Jesus, Mary,
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