An unusual coniferous tree

An unusual coniferous tree

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My Creator made me young and slender. Sprung from his hands and lovingly planted, I soared towards Heaven, following the laws of nature established for all conifers of my kind. Unaware of what was going to happen to me, for I am a creature without reason nor intelligence, I grew over the years under the watchful eye of a little child.

But when the Child was already grown up and as I heard the echo of his voice that shook the mountains, quivered the waters and raised the dead, I thought deep inside that this voice was indeed the One who had brought me out of nothingness. The Voice of God made Man. And what did it say: it spoke of the Cross, of his desire to carry it to save mankind and to make it his very emblem of glory!

Yet, in the early morning of that same year, men came to see me, to study me and to observe me. It’s true that my trunk had become strong and sturdy! So they chose me, pruned my ridge, cut me into sections and carried me to the walls of the great city: Jerusalem!

I didn’t stay long in the wooden storehouse, I was taken there and there I felt the lips of my Creator, the lips of God made Man, kissing my wood in all its roughness, hardness and inflexibility. And I thought of you… Rough, hard, inflexible in your sin. So, when his Precious Blood watered my wood, I hastened to drink it, I absorbed it greedily, letting it penetrate me and soak up every fibre of my being, making me soft, purifying me of my hardness and softening your heart! Yes, by imitating what God did through the wood of the Cross, by accepting his Precious Blood with all your heart, by confessing him as the only One who purifies and only Saviour, you will be able to get out of your sin!

Next to me, at my side, stood the faithful Virgin, the One who is still standing and who, in the darkness of the extraordinary twilight that came over the earth at about 3 p.m., shone with whiteness and made the moon pale in her Immaculate motherhood: in fact, I heard the Incarnate Word dying on the Cross, uttering these creative words: “Woman, here is your son”, your Cross, the fruit of your tears and your sufferings.

After God had saved the world with my wood, I was placed in the earth and hidden, like a seed of wheat. Later, I was discovered and became the object of glory and Triumph of my Creator and Saviour… I will also become yours after your death if you carry me as Our Lord Jesus Christ and his Blessed Mother carried me.
In Corde Mariae!

Holy Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.

#militiaimmaculatae #militiaimmaculataeen #kolbe #mi

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