Our Lady of Pontmain - France

Marian Apparition - Our Lady of Pontmain
The winter of 1871 was such a time. January was an especially brutal time for man and beast. Those who could avoid it, did

not venture out into the weather. But unfortunately, not every­body could stay at home.

France was still going through its period of chastisement.

Those in high places in the government had not heeded the plead­ings of Our Lady at the Rue du Bac in Paris, or La Salette, or more recently to the little shepherdess, Bernadette Soubirous in Lourdes. They were engaged in a war with the infamous Bismarck, and his mighty Prussian troops. The French had been so involved in killing their own, and attacking helpless nuns and priests, they didn't know how to handle a real enemy. Prussia was able to march through France with ease. Paris had been captured, and enemy troops were working their way through Le Mans to­wards the coast. Bismarck had known all the strengths and weak­nesses of his adversaries. He anticipated their every move, and countered with a shrewder one. There was only one force he had not counted on. How could he? This one enemy was beyond his comprehension. He had no way of knowing her power; he didn't know her. He was taking on the Mother of God.

The little people, the common folk, flocked to their churches, to the shrines of the Rue du Bac, La Salette, and Lourdes. They prayed, fearful that it was too little too late, but hopeful, knowing that Our Lady was a merciful Mother, that their prayers would not fall on deaf ears. Rosaries, stations of the cross, confessions, fasting, communions, all were offered up to their Heavenly Mother in a desperate plea for help.

We can just picture in our mind's eye, millions of angels carrying all these prayers and offerings up from the earth and laying them at the feet of their Queen. They had to run out of room in Heaven for all the prayers and petitions offered up. At one point, Mary's beautiful eyes might have looked out over the land she had tried so hard to protect, that she had loved so much. We can imagine a sadness coming over her sparkling eyes. Per­haps a tear slipped down her velvety cheek, and descended to the earth; when it landed, an explosion of energy lit up the entire sky. It happened on January 11, 1871. Scientists called it an Aurora Borealis. The faithful called it MARY TO THE RESCUE.

On earth, the residents of Pontmain were trying to continue their lives as if all were well. Normally, these villagers wouldn't be affected by the goings on in the center of the country. After all, they were just farmers. But this war had hit everyone. Many of

the young men of Pontmain had answered the call to duty. They were somewhere in the war zone, but no one knew where, or how they were. Stories of the massacres the French were suffering at the hands of their enemies, found their way back to the town. Wagons, filled with wounded, moved along the main roads in disaster proportions. In addition, the Prussian troops had gotten to Laval, a town extremely close to Pontmain.

On the evening of January 17, the men of the Barbedette family were working in their barn. Dinner would be ready soon, but they wanted to get finished with their chores before going  inside. It had begun to snow lightly, not like the other days. The winds had died down. The pure white powder fell gently, as if it had come directly from Heaven. Monsieur Barbedette, known as Bierot, his sons Eugene 12 years old, and Joseph, aged 10, were all working side by side. It was about 6 in the evening. Supper would be ready soon. They wanted to get their work done before

they were called in to eat. In the recesses of their minds was con­cern over the third Barbedette son, Auguste, who was away fight­ing the war. The father felt that by working, he could take his mind off his fears; but it was not happening. Not an especially religious man, he found himself praying his rosary under his breath. A neighbor woman, Jean Detais, came by with rumors about the war situation, and possible news about the son Auguste. Eugene could not get over how gently the snow had fallen outside. He couldn't hear a sound. There was not the slightest breeze blowing, much less the gailstorm winds that had buffeted the area earlier that day. He walked to the door of the barn. He didn't want to hear any bad news about Auguste. He thought that  by walking away from it, by not listening to Jean Detais, he could prevent it from happening. The night cold air was refreshing. He looked outside. The snow had stopped. He remarked to himself  how unusual it was that the sky was so full of stars, though there was no moon that night. He looked around him. He was imme­diately frozen to the spot.

Above neighbor Augustin Guidecog's house, about twenty five feet in the air, A BEAUTIFUL LADY WAS SUSPENDED IN THE AIR, her arms outstretched. She was looking at him, and smiling. He had never seen anything like her in his life. Her eyes gleamed like stars. Her teeth were pearl white. They sparkled as she smiled at him. To the 12 year old Eugene, she was a lady, but she appeared to be about 18 to 20 years old. She wore blue, but dark blue, darker than the sky. Her dress was long and loose; her sleeves flowed, and on her collar was a band of gold. There was a black veil on her head, topped by a gold cap which resembled a crown. A thin red band ran across the cap. She wore blue slippers tied with gold ribbons.

The neighbor woman noticed the boy standing in a daze at the door. He was staring up into the sky. She went over to him to see what was the matter. He asked her to look up in the sky and tell him what she saw.

"I see nothing." she answered.

Eugene looked at her incredulously. How could she not see a lady suspended in air. It was the most unusual sight he had ever seen, and she couldn't see it. He called his father and brother to look up at the sky. Bierot could not see anything, but young Jo­seph's expression turned to joy as he looked up above Guidecoq's barn.

"I see a beautiful lady". he exclaimed. He proceeded to de­scribe the scene in detail, just as Eugene had seen it.

The father, Bierot, ordered the boys back into the barn to finish their work. He told Jean Detais, the neighbor, not to men­tion what they had said to anyone. She promised that she would not. The boys returned to the barn. Bierot took one last look be­fore he closed the barn door. What could it be that they had seen? There was nothing unusual in the sky. The stars were brighter than he remembered seeing them before, but that was probably be­cause the wind had blown all the clouds away.

The spark of a thought kept gnawing away at the back of his mind. He had been working with the boys all day. Their behavior had been normal. They hadn't acted silly. As a matter of fact, there had been a serious tone to the day. They were all worried about the well-being of Auguste. It would have been out of char­acter for them to take a sudden turn to silliness, as he had first attributed their claim about a lady in the sky. Then, he thought, they didn't see the lady at the same time. First Eugene saw her, and then Joseph. They both described her in the same way. Bierot took one last look in the sky, shrugged his shoulder, and went back to work.

The boys could not get the beautiful lady out of their minds. Her gaze warmed them, as if she had covered them with her mantle. The eyes, those cobalt blue eyes that pierced them, the spar­kling teeth, the delicate features of her face, formed an indelible impression on their mind. They worked quickly, which was not like them at all. When they had finished their work, they raced each other to the barn door. They pushed it open, and looked out. She was still there. She was still smiling at them. She was radiant. Bierot called his wife; maybe she would see something. This

was driving him crazy. Mrs. Barbedette came to the barn door. She looked up, but saw nothing. Her husband was somewhat relieved. However, as a precaution, just in case it was a vision from Heaven, they all knelt down to say five Pater Nosters and five Ave Marias. Then they went into the house for supper.

The boys wolfed their food down, so that they could run back outside to see if the Lady was still there. As soon as the last mouthful had been finished, they ran outside the door again. She was still there. The mother asked them to describe how tallshe was.

"She's about the same size as Sister Vitaline."

This gave the mother an inspiration. She called the nun,

asked her to look up into the sky, to see if she could see anything. Sr. Vitaline could not. The boys were becoming frustrated.

"How can you not see it?" Eugene cried out. "She is so brilliant. Can you see a triangle of bright stars?" Everyone agreed that they could see three bright stars, which they had never seen before, and never saw again, except for that night.

"Well, the top of the triangle is where her head is, and the two stars at the bottom are at a level with her shoulders. Can you see that?"

No one but Eugene and Joseph could see the lady.