The Return Of Saint Joan

 

The Return Of Saint Joan

Rough draft: January 2025 - 15469 words

 

Winter Landscape by Caspar David Friedrich (1811)

  A Prayer to St Joan

The Patron Saint Of France

Dear Patron Saint,

Thank you for accompanying me throughout the day, and in the work that I did. Thank you also for your guidance and your counsel. Please help me to listen to God and to you, dear Saint, that I may do what I am called to do. Please intercede on my behalf and beg God to take all my faults and turn them into virtues. I thank you for all you have done for me, and all the things you have interceded for on my behalf. Please continue to pray for me and for all the souls who need it.

 Amen

 

The three boys had received their instructions. It had been impressed upon them the serious nature of their task. They were assured that there would be no deviation from what they were required to do. They were to talk to no one until they reached the Basilica and even when there they were to deflect conversations as much as possible to see the Cardinal. St Joan had impressed upon them that while France is not at war at this time she is of the belief that if one is to follow the word of the Lord then one should be true to the spirit invested in them. That is why she chose them. They were honest and spiritual boys. They were to travel to Domrémy-la-Pucelle, birthplace of Joan Of Arc, to see the Cardinal in the Church named after Joan of Arc. It was 1930. They were assured he would be there.

 

Saint Joan had only been declared a Saint a few years before. Money had been raised to build a huge Basilica in her honour. The clergymen and women located inside the Basilica had all studied St. Joan and were very familiar with her lore. There were some miracles associated with the Basilica but not as many as at other locations such as Lourdes or Fatima where visions had occurred. 

 

As they crested the hill they could see off in the distance the shadow of the Basilica appearing and disappearing through the blowing snow. Each boy gave a sigh of relief that they were almost there. It didn’t seem that far off.

 

They turned and looked at each other. Without a word they all knew each other thought the same thing. “At last.” While the trek so far had taken three days they had kept their promise to talk to no one. The food and water they had brought with them were long gone. They were twelve and knew little about rationing their food to make it last. Their minds had been totally focused on the task.

 

Their trek had been a long one through the deep snow. It had been one of the admonitions they had been given: they had to travel by foot to the Basilica of St Joan and have a discussion with the Cardinal. No one else. In the three days since they had left their village they had seen no one. It had snowed heavily and the going was rough with all the deep snow, yet they kept on task. They were weary but glad that their goal was in sight.

 

Francois motioned, after a short rest, that it was time to move on. He had been endowed with the larger portion of the task and would feel immense relief once his job was over. It wasn’t every day that you got to do the bidding of a Saint, if that is what she really was. While they were unfamiliar with her, her special effects were enough to convince them that they would fry if they disobeyed her. When the lady spoke she made sure they listened. With the wave of the hand she had placed a burn mark on Pierre’s  calf. After that they all paid close attention. Each devoured every word, every instruction that was given to them. 

 

Each reflected back on how they had explained it to their parents. Their parents were filled with disbelief at first but with the careful coaching the Saint had provided for them, they were able to convince their parents of the need to complete the task. While their parents were reluctant to let such young boys follow the directions they were given and travel alone, they also knew the responsibility thrust upon their children by the Saint and her actions. After looking at Pierre’s leg they entrusted their boys to the care of the Saint. 

 

Tiring rapidly, cold and hungry, the trio of 12 year old boys trudged on holding out hope that the Cardinal would be present when they arrived at the doors. White St. Joan had made it clear that he would be there; they wondered if she could foresee an emergency calling him away. 

 

A little while later they walked up to the doors of the Basilica and heaved them open. Hurrying inside they were glad to feel the warmth of the building. As they stood at the entrance way to the nave, just inside the doors, a priest hurried down the aisle and came through the nave’s doors towards them. 

 

“You can’t stand here dripping snow all over the floor,” he intoned. “Let’s move over here,” he said, indicating a door off to their right.

 

The boys looked at him carefully before Francois, who was given the letters, spoke.

 

“Father, we are here to see the Cardinal.”

 

The Priest stopped moving and gave the three boys the once over while thinking to himself why would three young boys want to see the Cardinal. “The Cardinal is a busy man, much too busy to speak to you. If you tell me what this is about I will take care of it,” said the Priest, doing his job of deflecting the parishioners away from the idea that the Cardinal was accessible to anyone who asked.  

 

“I am sorry Father but our instructions were to speak to no one about this except the Cardinal,” replied Francois.

 

“Instructions? What instructions? Who gave you these instructions?”

 

“St. Joan spoke to us in our home town,” answered Normand.

 

“St Joan! “ he interrupted. “You wish to speak to the Cardinal because St. Joan told you to do so?”

 

The boys had been well prepared by St. Joan. “Father Stephen, St. Joan asked us to remind you that your life was not easy prior to your entering the monastery. Your youthful ways have been, for the most part, put behind you, but there are still some lingering sentiments,” spoke the third child, Normand.

 

The Priest stood stock still as he contemplated what he had just been told. He whispered, “How did you know my name? Who gave you this information about me?”

 

“It was St Joan, sir, the person who this Basilica is named after.” answered Pierre.

 

St. Joan was known as the warrior Saint. She believed in righteousness, humility, honesty and simplicity. Her love of God and her faith in him held her in high esteem, not only in the 1400’s when she lived but even today in all of France. As he reflected on his knowledge he was curious as to the reasons for St Joan contacting the Cardinal today. It did seem a bit suspicious. 

 

He thought about this for a minute. “St Joan has been dead for over 500 years,” he replied. He smiled at the boys. “What were the instructions that St. Joan gave to you for the Cardinal?” While he doubted what they were saying he also had to ascertain how he might approach the Cardinal, if he could get past his superior. 

 

Pierre, the third boy, spoke to this. “She first told us to come to the Basilica named after her. She said it would not be easy to get here because of the snow but she assured us that we would be successful. We were not to speak to anyone until we reached here where we would,” he paused, “find you. She told us that you would try to find out what we have for the Cardinal but we were not to tell anyone much about her or her instructions. She told us, sir, that you would try to block us but that we were to tell you what we told you.”

 

Normand took over the explanation, “Under your robe, on your foot there is a scar from when you were injured as a child. It was in a field near your house and you were being chased by a group of children because you had told them a lie…”

 

“Stop,” he said quickly, his eyes bulging and his breath rapidly increasing. There was no way these children would know this. “Your message is for the Cardinal? What am I supposed to tell him when he asks? He will think it is preposterous that you wish to meet with him.” Father Stephen was quickly turning over the events in his mind and trying to find ways to convince the boys. Their knowledge of his scar made him uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as the Cardinal would make him feel.

 

Francois stepped forward and presented him with a letter. “This is for the Cardinal to read. It is for only his eyes. St. Joan will be very displeased if you read it.”

 

 “What does it say?” he asked, pretty sure he had deduced what the answer would be.

 

“We couldn’t tell you if we knew. Saint Joan entrusted it to us for the Cardinal. .” replied Francois gently. 

 

The priest looked over at them before returning his eyes to the note. It was now decision time. He looked around the room they had entered as if stalling for time. Finally he said, “Your story intrigues me. I will approach the powers that be in order to see the Cardinal. I will see what can be done.” He turned towards the door. “You shall remove your coats and boots. You may sit on the furniture and await my return. Please do not leave this room.”

 

“Thank you sir, but St Joan has told us what to expect. We will be here when you return.”

 

The Priest looked at them carefully before nodding. If they were to be believed of course she had prepared them. St. Joan was a tactician. She would have fully prepared anyone before they would visit in her name. As he turned to exit the room, Pierre spoke up. “Sir, could we please have some water and some food?”

 

The Priest said, “I will take care of it. There is a fire burning in the grate. Remove your outer clothing and warm up while you wait,” he said as he turned and exited with the door closing behind him. 

 

The boys looked at each other and nodded before removing their coats and boots. They knew they were not going anywhere soon. They cosied up to the fire and felt the first warmth in three days. It felt like heaven.

 

 

 

The food and water arrived shortly. The boys thought the feast was meant for a king. They had never seen so much food before. Carefully they ate, not wishing to be over gratuitous but thinking that maybe someone was testing them. 

 

After quite a while the door opened slowly and the Priest entered. “How is the food, boys?” he inquired as he settled himself into a chair. 

 

Francois looked at him. “The food is good. Thank you for the amount provided. It is most satisfying.” He looked at the Priest's face. “The Cardinal does not wish to see us?” he asked.

 

The Priest looked shocked at this turn of events. “How did you know that?”

 

“St. Joan foresaw this event. She prepared us well for what we would encounter.” “You really saw her, didn’t you?” he said, but in his heart he didn’t mean it. It was not possible, yet these boys knew more than they should have known about him. 

 

“Of course. Why would we be here otherwise?” exclaimed Pierre. 

 

“He is not convinced with your note. His Worthiness feels it could have been forged and is not willing to spend any time discussing it with you. His suggestion is for you to leave immediately and return to your homes.”

 

The boys smiled and nodded. The reality they faced here squared quite well with the preparations they had undertaken. Normand spoke up. “Give him the letter.”

 

The Priest's eyes opened a bit wider. He quickly looked away. The Cardinal would not like this one bit. He had told the Priest to clear the Basilica of the children. Not doing his job was going to be a problem.  “Another note?” he questioned. “It appears to me that St. Joan foresaw many things. How many more notes are there?” 

 

Francois and Normand both spoke up. “There are many.”

 

The priest contemplated this for a minute. “If you give them to me I will present them all to the Cardinal.”

 

“We cannot do that,” Pierre replied. 

 

“We have been given our instructions. They have to be followed.” said Normand. HIs eyes turned towards Francois, who nodded.

 

“St Joan again?” Inquired Father Stephen as the boys nodded once more. 

 

“What are these boys up to?" he wondered. He had never heard of such a thing as St. Joan giving visions with instructions. The Virgin Mary? Yes. There have been a few others that were verified but St. Joan never. She has been quiet for all these years.

 

“Another note.” he held out his hand. “The Cardinal will not be pleased.” He took the note and left the room.

 

The boys looked at each and shrugged. They resumed eating their food, secure in the knowledge that the Bishop would be meeting with them next.

 

 

A little while later a new face appeared at the door and entered quietly. The new face stood looking at the boys wondering how they could spook Father Stephen.  The boys were sitting patiently on the furniture that had been provided for them. Before the new face spoke the boys smiled and looked at each other recognizing the new visitor.

 

“Hello Francois, Normand and Pierre,” he said, stretching out a hand to each. 

 

“Hello Monsieur Bishop,” they intoned together, causing the Bishop to be taken aback by their knowledge of who he was. 

 

He recovered quickly. “I hear you have been well prepared by St. Joan concerning the way events are unfolding here.” It really wasn’t a question but the boys treated it as one.

 

“Bishop, St. Joan is not happy with all these turns at trying to keep us from seeing the Cardinal,” stated Pierre.

 

“We have been given our instructions,” stated Francois again.

 

“Yes. I believe that you have,” stated the Bishop. “But the question is by whom? St Joan has been dead for over six hundred years. She has never spoken before to anyone. Is it possible that you are mistaken in your determination that it is St. Joan.” 

 

Normand spoke up,” Monsieur Bishop, our instructions from St Joan were clear. She gave us ample reason to believe she was who she said she was.”

 

“She also gave us reason to obey her instructions,” replied Pierre lifting his pant leg.

The Bishop blanched at the sight of Pierre's leg. He decided to change his track. “You have no idea what is in the letters?” They shook their heads. “Perhaps you could give me all the letters. If not I could just take them.”

 

As he spoke each of the boys stepped away from the window, averted their eyes and covered their ears. 

 

The Bishop frowned and was about to speak when a large blast of lightning set the tree outside the window on fire. Dumbfounded, the Bishop rushed from the room issuing instructions to the Friars running through the halls. Once outside, despite their best efforts the tree continued to burn and did so long after the fire department showed up to perform their duties 

 

Eventually the Bishop returned to the room and looked at the boys who were sitting quietly on the furniture. 

 

“You knew this would happen?”

 

They nodded.

 

“How long will the fire last?”

 

“Until we see the Cardinal.” 

 

He held out his hand. Francois removed the next letter from his pouch and placed it in the Bishop's hand. “St Joan is not happy. Please let the Cardinal know this.”

 

The Bishop nodded. He was no fool but since the fire could not be put out and the boys were in the room where the fire was burning outside the window and the window and room had not been scorched in any way he believed not only had the boys seen St Joan but that she was protecting them. He needed to find a way to convince the Cardinal. 

 

There was a knock on the door. “Enter,” he said.

 

“Your Excellency. I have to report something that is out of the ordinary.”

 

“What would that be?”

 

“The fire? It is out. Well not really out because the tree looks like it was never on fire.”

 

The Bishop had an incredulous look on his face. “What do you mean it was never on fire?”

 

“I beseech you to look out the window.” The Friar, The Bishop and the boys all approached the window. The tree looked like it did before the fire started. “This is impossible,” stated the Bishop as he turned to look at the boys. “St. Joan?” he inquired.

 

“St. Joan,” was the reply. He thought about this carefully before speaking again.

 

“As I am sure you are aware, I will return.”

 

Pierre spoke up. “We will not be seeing you again today. Goodbye your Excellence.”

 

The Bishop nodded and motioned to the Friar. He turned and walked out the door.

 

The warrior Saint would not be someone to trifle with.

 

Quite a while later the ashen faced Father Stephen returned and sat down. “The Cardinal has granted you an audience,” he said. “He is not pleased to take the time to meet with you but between your letters and our assurances of the,” he paused, “the gravity of the situation he is taking time out of his busy day to see you. Please gather your things and come along.” He waited patiently while they gathered up their clothing. He led them through many hallways to a door that was gilded with gold. He knocked once, turned and said, “Good luck,” before he turned and hurried off down the hallway. 

 

The boys stood silently in the hallway waiting for it to open. As they shuffled their feet the huge door was quickly opened by a rather corpulent man dressed in what the boys determined to be very rich robes. He stood staring them down, daring them to say a word. They didn’t say anything. They kept looking him in the eye. Eventually he gruffly intoned, “Enter and sit by the fire.”  Ignoring them he marched over and plopped himself down in his chair which looked more like a throne.

 

They did as they were told and sat waiting for him to begin. He sat in his chair and eyed the boys carefully. In his mind he reviewed what he knew about each of them. If what the notes and what he had been told were true they were not to be trifled with but at the same time a vision? And directions? It seemed rather preposterous. The fire made him wary. The letters made him furious.

  

“As you are aware, after your first note, I instructed for you to be removed from the Basilica. That did not occur. Upon your second note and discussion with the Priest it had been pressed upon me the serious nature of your visit.“ He paused. “I rejected the advice I was given.” 

 

“I had given my Bishop stronger instructions to have you removed immediately,” he stated as his voice rose. “He too failed in his task. Somehow you impressed upon him the seriousness of your directions,”  he said as he paused to consider his words carefully.

 

“Now after 3 notes, a lightning show, a fire that would not be put out despite the best intentions of experts in the field and eventually extinguished itself with no harm to the tree, and you somehow uncovered my Priest's deep secret. Despite  a somewhat less obedient but very impressed clergy you are still here. You still have notes for me and instructions.” he paused.  Do you know who I am?” he thundered in great rage. I take instructions from God himself, not young boys who somehow have obtained information. I need you to tell me how you came about this information and who is giving you directions.”

 

“Sir,” began Francois, “We have been given detailed instructions by St. Joan to see you. There is no one else.”

 

“St. Joan. That is preposterous. She doesn’t just drop in on mortal beings, issue instructions and expect that her directions are to be obeyed. She has never done this. She is a Saint. They have better things to do than to send three boys to meet with a Cardinal.”

 

As the boys sat there quietly, he decided to make his own inquiries. 

 

“Where did you see St. Joan?”

 

Normand spoke up. “It was three days ago in a grotto near where we live. We were playing when St. Joan appeared and began talking to us.”

 

“St Joan? Not the Virgin Mary?” he questioned, trying to sow doubt in their story.

 

A bit of exasperation was setting in and would be reflected in the boys voices.

“She said she was St. Joan. We had no reason to think she wasn’t,” replied Pierre.

 

 “She talked to us for a long time. She told us some things about our lives. We believed her.” added Francois.

 

“So should you,” added Normand. The Cardinal raised his eyebrows at this. 

 

“St Joan has given us these instructions. She has said they have to be followed. Here we are.”

 

He looked at them. “Boys this is preposterous,” he started. The boys smiled politely at him. “If St. Joan has a message for me, why doesn’t she speak to me directly? She is speaking through you. I don’t accept what you are saying. So now tell me truthfully who sent you.”

 

“Cardinal,” replied Francois., “You say you talk to God and we must believe you. Why would it be any different for us talking to St. Joan?”

 

The Cardinal sat back in his chair considering their latest tack. “I am a messenger of God. He gives me directions. He speaks through me.”

 

“And St. Joan speaks from God through us,” replied Normand with some insistence..

 

“Silence,” roared the Cardinal as he jumped to his feet. 

 

The boys all turned their heads towards the fireplace. It was warm and the fire was dwindling on this winter's day. Suddenly it erupted in cascading flames that filled the entire space with an enormous amount of light. It went on for a full minute before just as abruptly, it extinguished itself and returned to normal.

 

The Cardinal looked interested but turned to the boys and said, “That is a nice trick. How did you do it?” 

 

“Sir, that was no trick. We are sitting here. We have never been here before. You have been watching us. You saw what happened.” replied Francois. 

 

Normand added, “You need to look at the fireplace.” They all turned their heads to see a vision appear in flames above the mantle. The beatific face indicated pleasure as it looked at the boys. As it turned towards the Cardinal it dropped some coins onto the mantle, which tumbled to the floor before melting into a lump on the heath. 

 

The Cardinal turned white at this turn of events. As he sat there thinking, 

Francois reached into his bag and removed the last note and handed it to the Cardinal. The Cardinal glanced at the envelope for a minute before he opened it and read the contents. HIs face turned red and the further he read the redder his face got. His anger was palpable. He quickly stood.

 

“Blasphemy.! He shouted. You are going to hell for these salacious rumours. Who do you think you are dealing with,” he yelled as he took a step towards the boys. Suddenly there was a wall of flames between them. The boys quietly put their coats on and exited the room while the flames continued to provide a barrier. This allowed them to leave the room and begin their journey home.

 

As the flames extinguished themselves leaving no indication that there had ever been flames between them, the Cardinal sat back down in his chair. He was stunned, both by what they said, by the letters and series of events but mostly by their audacity to leave without his permission. 

Later the Cardinal sat quietly at his desk with the letters splayed out in front of him. He was contemplating what he had read. He was furious that the tone and information within the letters appeared to demonstrate that someone knew him far better than he realized. How was this possible?

 

His mind had moved on past the messengers and focused on what the message had said. He picked up the first note and read it again. 

 

The time spent on her sheets has created your own little beast. Reject the immoral. Embrace the word of God.

 

He reflected carefully that no one knew about this aspect of his life. He had been diligent in his approach that he was secure in knowing that this secret was safe. Yet it wasn’t. As these notes proved, someone knew. He would have to find out who knew his secret.

 

He summoned a priest who was working in his outer office.

 

“Yes sir?” asked the priest. 

 

“Those boys who were just here.” 

 

The priest nodded. 

 

“Your job is to follow them and report back to me about their movements. I want to know about everyone and every conversation they have.” He thought for a minute while the priest fumbled with his thoughts. “Not a word to anyone. Now go.” The Priest turned and fled the room. 

 

He picked up the second note and read. 

 

The Church is not a personal bank.

Sins in the name of the Lord will be forgiven if you renounce them.

Monetary transactions should be for Church Business.

 

“Ah,” he reflected. “That explains the coins on the heath.” He rose from his chair and walked over to the heath. As he bent to pick up the melted coins they vanished. He stood pondering this turn of events before he returned to his chair.

He was certain that no one knew about the money. He had only one set of books. They reflected what everyone saw. Yet the boys somehow knew about the issue? How could that be?

 

St. Joan? Pah. He didn’t believe it. Why would a Saint be bothered with the trivial goings on of a Church? Saints rarely moved past their own needs in speaking to those they chose. The boys? Why did she choose them?

 

Sighing he picked up the third letter.

 

Pray for forgiveness from the Lord. Only he knows the true meaning of men’s hearts. Follow his teachings to return your thoughts to a more hallowed place.

 

This note troubled him greatly. He wondered how one would know of the troubling thoughts he had been having lately. Not only was his mind a jumble of thoughts with God speaking to him frequently supporting his view of the world. He was learning to not just interpret but to become God’s advice. Lately he had not been wrong about his words from God. They had been clear. He had done everything God’s words had delivered to him. Everything. He paused. There were also his other concerns that weighed heavily on his mind. While his God assured him that he had not sinned he felt a tinge of regret in his mind. 

 

There was a knock at the door. “Your Eminence?” a voice spoke. 

 

“Enter,” thundered the Cardinal.

 

“Your Eminence,” began the Bishop, “would you like a note sent to the Vatican explaining about today and asking for advice?”

 

The Cardinal thought about this for a minute before replying. “You are to instruct everyone in this building that there is to be no discussion about today’s events.

Nothing!” he yelled, his voice rising to unheard of levels. 

“Your Eminence, the fire outside the Basilica walls has disappeared. There is no sign that there ever was a fire. Townspeople and firemen alike have seen both occurrences. There is much discussion amongst the townspeople about this miracle.”

 

“I will take care of that part myself. You have your instructions. Now go!” he intoned loudly. The Bishop ran from the room closing the door behind him. 

 

The Cardinal sat back down in his chair. He reached for a cloth and wiped his brow. There was so much to think about.  

 

He returned his thoughts to the third note. 

 

“I am a loyal servant and true follower of my God. He has spoken to me about many topics and ideas. Whoever wrote this does not fully understand the communication with God that I have.” He sat further pondering this before he picked up the last note.  

 

Judge not what you don’t understand. You cannot preach in my Church and not believe what you preach doesn’t apply to you. Leading parishioners into sin, not saving them, is your goal. Repentance leads them to their salvation. It is what is in men’s hearts that determines success or failure. Forgoing sin and living in the true spirit of the Lord enriches us. 

 

The Lord, through me, will decide if you have repented and should be forgiven. If you fail your task, sacrifices will be made. Prepare for the hand of God to reach you. Move forward in peace and repentance or at your peril.

 

Praise be to God.

 

“My Church?” he thought to himself. “They called it ‘My Church.’ Interesting” He wondered about this for a while. “This is the Church Of St. Joan. Surely Saints who do not dwell on earth have little concern about the happenings in their Churches.” He would give this point much thought. Again his instructions from his God betrayed the truth in the notes. His God had provided him with direction.

Now this. He shook his head.

Someone who knew him fairly well had written these notes he surmised. He started running down a list of who those people could be but could think of no one. His thoughts drifted back towards the boys. They claimed it was St Joan. This Church was built and named in her honour. The flames, both inside the Church and outside could represent the pyre she was burned on. The melted and disappearing coins were a nice trick but that is all they were, a magicians trick the boys had somehow learned. 

 

“I wonder,” he thought. It had occurred to him during his discussions with the boys as well as lingering thoughts after that Lourdes and Fatima could come into play. He had knowledge of these Holy Sites and wondered if somehow these visitations from St. Joan could be turned into a grander scheme where money could be made, filling the coffers where at times it was difficult to do so. 

 

The Cardinal’s thoughts swirled with eagerness at the prospect of more money pouring into the Church, his Church. The things this money could do for the Church! The Shrines that could be built under his watch!  His legacy would be complete.

 

In his efforts for a sustained future he overlooked the last line of the warning.

 

Atonement will be through St Joan. It will be swift and appropriate.

 

 

The boys quickly left the office of the Cardinal as they had been instructed to do. They would make their way down the stone staircases and were on their way to the front door of the Basilica when a familiar face stopped them. 

 

“Where are you going boys?” Father Stephen asked with some concern.

 

Francois answered. “We have completed our instructions. We are now heading home.” 

 

“How did it go with the Cardinal?” he asked.

 

“He is mad,” replied Pierre. “St Joan saved us.”

“She saved you? How?” he asked. 

 

“She put a fire between us and him so we could leave.”

 

“A fire!” he exclaimed.

 

“It was like the one in the tree. Nothing was harmed.”

 

“Can you tell me more about St Joan and your instructions?”

 

The boys looked at each other with uncertainty. St. Joan had only given them instructions to return home. Nothing was said about what they could talk about after. ”Um ,” began Normand. “Can we go to the room to talk about this? 

 

“Certainly,” agreed the Priest. “Right this way.”  

 

Once in the room the boys huddled together to discuss the issue. They determined that St. Joan only gave instructions for their meeting with the Cardinal. And to return home. The rest was open. If she didn’t want them to talk to anyone she would or would have let them know. While a bit wary of offending her they also saw that their task, other than heading home, had been fulfilled.

 

The boys moved to sit in the chairs.

 

“What can you tell me,” asked the priest.

 

“We were playing in the grotto,” began Normand.

 

“When a bright light shone down on us forcing us to stop what we were doing. A figure appeared in front of us. It introduced herself as St Joan.” continued Pierre.

 

“She talked to us like we were normal people, not like we were dirt. She talked about our families and talked to us about many things. In the end she said the following,” said Francois. He began to recite from memory. 

The faithful will have directions to do the following: Saint Joan sees the sins they are committing in the name of the Lord. Fear not as she sees meek and mild followers who have been deceived in the name of the Lord. Repent and all will be given favour by the Lord.

 

To receive the mercy of the Lord the faithful flock must do the following:

 

1.    Pray forgiveness for your sins. You were misled. Pray to find a way back to being moral though making your own decisions. Only though God will you be successful.

2.    Love, in the name of the Lord, with strength and reason. God is good. God is great.

3.    Have patience, The Lord will speak to you in his own time and manner. He will deliver you from evil.

4.    Demonstrate understanding of God’s word. Interpretation rather than acceptance does not work. (everyone has their own internal beliefs. They are not yours to discuss or dismiss)

5.    Undertake acceptance. Rely on the word as had been spread by the Lord. All are special in the eyes of God..

 

The Priest sat looking amazed. “What does this have to do with the Cardinal?” he inquired. 

 

“As we said earlier, our instructions were simple. We were to meet only with the Cardinal to discuss this. We know only what She prepared us to learn about what would happen. She saw in great detail everything that occurred inside this Basilica including your talking to us now. We think she left that part alone for us to decide how to proceed.”

 

“I see,” replied the priest.

 

“There is little more than we can tell you,” replied Normand.

 

Pierre spoke up. “She instructed us to return to our homes upon completion of our tasks and await further instructions.” 

The priest thought about this. ”Is there anything you need for your return journey?” 

 

“Some food and water would aid us otherwise we must do this on our own,” replied Francois. 

 

“Let us pray,” said Father Stephen.

 

 Lord, be your guide and your protector on the journey you are about to take. May he watch over you and protect you from accidents. May he keep you free from harm to body and soul.

 

Amen

 

“I know St. Joan is watching over you but it never hurts to have a little extra protection,” stated the Priest.

      

“Thank you,” the boys said with a smile.

 

“I will see to your supplies. Safe journeys. Praise be to God.” with that said he left the room. 

 

The boys sat uncomfortably awaiting their supplies. They looked at each other. 

 

“Have we done the right thing?” asked Pierre

 

“She gave us no instructions other than that we would meet with him,” answered Francois.

 

Normand looked a little worried. “We left out the important part during this discussion.”

 

Francois looked at him with some sadness. “That cannot be helped. We were not free to discuss that part of the story. As the Cardinal never brought it up, it's not our story to tell. St. Joan was clear about that.”

The boys awaited their supplies. It had been foretold. Now that their task was done they were eager to return to their homes. 

 

 

“Have they gone?” asked the Bishop. 

 

“They are on their way. Father Charles was following them at a safe distance,” replied Father Stephen.

 

“Father Charles? That is an interesting turn. I presume he is acting on the Cardinals orders.” remarked the Bishop.

 

“Of course. The man does nothing but follow orders,” chuckled Father Stephen. “Have you given some thought towards the Vatican?”

 

The Bishop considered this for a minute. “The Cardinal made very clear that he was handling this. It will take more information about the Cardinal before I can take action in that area. In the end I take orders from a higher authority than the Cardinal.” He paused. “From what we know it is St. Joan, who is behind this latest outburst?”

 

“The boys were very clear about it being orchestrated by St. Joan. She talked to them in the grotto. She gave them direct instructions and the letters. She did enough to convince them that she was real. Pierre has a scar to prove it. She set the bush on fire and melted coins in front of the Cardinal as well as protected the boys by providing a wall of fire so they could exit. I would say that it is most likely St. Joan. They have neither the education or the skill to perform the feats they have witnessed.”

 

“St. Joan seems to have a beef with the Cardinal,” replied the Bishop thoughtfully.

 

“The letters, the coins and the fire would indicate that. She definitely wanted his attention. Any ideas about what it could be about?”

 

The Bishop thought about this carefully. While he trusted the Father he knew better than to put all his eggs in one basket. “The coins would indicate money.

Let’s follow that line and see where it might take us. But let us review what we know about St. Joan.”

 

“She is the patroness of Soldiers and France. She believed devoutly in God,” began Father Stephen.

 

“She began hearing voices at the age of 13. Saint Margaret, St Catherine and St Michael were the prime voices she heard,” continued the Bishop.

 

“She was dismissed at first when she approached the Dauphin but when she returned, a council of the Church, Theologians, Bishops and Doctors were asked to examine the evidence and talk to her. They determined that there was nothing heretical in her claims of the voices and their instructions to her. After undergoing an examination, it was stated that St. Joan of Arc was “of irreproachable life, a good Christian, possessed of the virtues of humility, honesty, and simplicity.” Those are their words.”

 

“That is quite unique,” observed the Bishop.”Not everyone has those virtues in abundance.”

 

“In addition, she spoke of an ancient sword that was hidden buried behind an altar. She had no way of knowing it was there without divine intervention.” Father Stepehen paused here. He was secure in his knowledge having studied Joan of Arc extensively as part of his job with the Church.

 

“That in itself is a miracle,” said the Bishop. 

 

“With the sword and the Church as proof she was allowed to meet with the Dauphin and help to organize battles where she was initially successful. She was afraid but her love and trust in God gave her the courage to be who she was. She was told often by the voices that God commands it.” continued Father Stephen.

 

“While they said that to her I doubt that she needed to be reminded of her duty to God. She had been hearing the voices for a while and was devout in her beliefs.” added the Cardinal

 

Father Stephen looked up from his thoughts. “I would agree with you. She was pious in her beliefs. It would be odd for her to not believe what she had been told was the Word of God. There was no other explanation for what was happening, unless she was a witch.”

 

“That was why they had the Council examine her. She gave no indication to them that she was anything but what they saw.“

 

“She won battles until she was injured. After she recovered, she was in a battle and taken prisoner by the British who appeared to fear her. They did everything they could to discredit her,” said Father Stephen.

 

“This is where her troubles began,” reflected the Bishop. 

 

“In the end the voices abandoned her.” Father Stephen said, stating the obvious. “I have always wondered about this. She did everything they asked and more and then they allowed her to be captured, discredited, and set on fire as a heretic?” 

 

“The ways of the Lord are nothing if not mysterious. Perhaps her usefulness came to an end. ”

 

“Possibly. After a false trial she was found guilty of heresy, dressing in men's clothing, claiming to hear voices from God, and disobeying the church. She was burned at the stake in 1431. Shortly after there was another trial where she was acquitted of all charges,” ended Father Stephen.”

 

“The Catholic Clergy, both the British and the French, documented all of this. They felt the need to prove they were correct on both sides.” said the Bishop.

“I find it interesting that nothing else was heard from or about her until she was investigated to become a Saint,” noted Father Stephen.

“That we know of, that we know of,” repeated the Bishop. “The road to canonization is a tough process. Many would-be saints don’t survive it.” He reflected on the process.

“The process usually begins at least five years after a person's death. However, the Pope can waive this period.

 

●     The Bishop of the person's diocese opens an investigation into their life. There they discover the details that would help determine whether this person is qualified to be a Saint. 

 

●     If the investigation finds enough evidence, the person is given the title. "servant of God”

 

●     They have to show "heroic virtue": The Congregation for the Causes of Saints reviews the evidence and recommends the person to the Pope. 

 

●     They have to verify a miracle: A miracle must be attributed to prayers made to the person after their death. Joan was exempt from the first three miracles because of her martyrdom, but she performed them anyway.”

 

“I was not the one investigating St Joan for Sainthood.  The Cardinal was. He was a Bishop at the time.”

 

“Yes,” stated Father Stephen. “She is reported to have performed miracles after her death. She didn’t need to do this because she had already performed miracles during her lifetime. However the miracles for beatification were:

 

●     Three nuns were healed from cancer after praying to Joan

●     Joan healed a woman of tuberculosis

●     Joan healed a woman of a hole in her foot

 

 

“Joan of Arc was canonized as a Saint by Pope Benedict XV in 1920. “ related Father Stephen.

 

The two men sat thinking about what had been said. 

Finally the Bishop spoke,” I want to return to the question ‘was she sacrificed for the goals of the Saints she has mentioned?’ Ultimately I believe the answer is yes. There was a purpose. Once she had outlived her purpose, to inspire the French troops, what was left for her to do? They could not have her running around the countryside sharing the word of God. That was for far more learned men to do. She was more beneficial to them as a martyr and a Saint.”

“Possibly, but the question today is: Why is she taking on this task today?” 

 

The Bishop pondered this.”It would appear that her moral compass is offended by the Cardinal.” He paused. “We need to look at this point further.”

 

“And why were the boys the focal point of her speaking for all that she wants done?”

 

“The miracles of Lourdes and Fatima suggest that it is predominantly girls who are on the receiving end of visions. Boys may have a peripheral role.”

 

“Could it be that because she is a warrior Saint who worked mainly with men that she chose the boys as her representatives?”

 

“You could be on to something there,” reflected the Bishop. “We may never know for sure. It would appear that her purpose here is to be true to what she values. She values her name, truth, honesty and the will of GOD. This is most likely why she is speaking today. Is the Cardinal doing something that reflects poorly on the name of her church? Is he truthful and honest? Is he going against the will of God?

 

The Bishop rose. “We both should give this further consideration.” with the pronouncement he swept out of the room.

 

 

The Cardinal slipped through the door that was hidden in his private quarters. He was the only person in the Basilica who knew of this door. His need for some privacy was paramount to his existence.

 

The room he walked into was walled in strong colours that reflected the tone of his role within the church. Strong vibrant colors showed his power and authority. He contemplated the power this room held and the woman who sat serenely reflecting the power of his desire. Her angelic qualities, her high cheekbones, long blonde hair and cherubic figure all set the tone for his interest in her. She too had power, much more than she realized.

 

“Your Eminence,” said a voice softly from a chair by the window. “I have been wondering if you would stop by. I saw the bush burning at the front of the Basilica. As I watched, it went out and the bush appeared to have no damage. Was this a miracle?” she asked. 

 

“It may have been,” he intoned as he poured himself a glass of water. He pondered his words carefully. “It has been brought to my attention that our secret may not be a secret for much longer. Someone has been informing me of many things. It is suggested to be St. Joan. I believe we are being watched by someone.”

 

“St. Joan?” asked Marie Therese.

 

“Yes the patron St. of France who this church is named after. 

 

“How could that be? She died a long time ago,” reflected Marie Therese.” 

 

“She is a Saint who knows the will of God apparently. However it may not be St. Joan. I am not gullible to believe that she contacted three boys and gave them instructions concerning things that are happening in my life. There is only one way they could have obtained the information. “

 

“You have an informer?” she asked.

 

He mused,”it is quite possible. One never knows where tier enemies lie. In either event you will have to get dressed. You will have to leave.”

 

“Leave? I have to leave?” 

 

“The risk of being found is too large for both of us.”

 

“I am sorry to hear that. How will it affect our relationship?” she inquired as she set down her knitting.

 

“I have secured a house in Paris for your usage.” he paused contemplating the other piece of information he had received. “Is there anything else I should know?”

 

She rose from her chair and walked closer to him. He was able to see for himself that what was written was true. 

 

“I am with child, if that is what you are asking. As I am confined to these quarters it has been difficult to determine some facets of it but I may need to see a doctor or midwife before too long to determine what needs to be done in preparation.” She smiled at him. 

 

“I am sorry it has come to this. When you leave here you will be given what is needed for your and the child's survival.” he stated.

 

“Thank you for your consideration in this matter. I will keep quiet on my part. Will you come with us?” she asked. 

 

He smiled a sad smile. “You know that cannot happen. I will do what I can discreetly to help you but this will be the last time we see each other. It is God’s will.”  

With that he rose and hugged her. He then turned and fled the room. 

 

With a sadness matching the occasion she watched him leave. She had known that at some point this would be the result. She would be alone. At least he made some promises. Hopefully he could keep them. She turned and began preparations for leaving this building. She would be sad to go but was comforted in knowing that she would raise her child, his child, in a manner that honoured her child's father. That was her goal in life.

 

 

 

 

A couple of days later The Cardinal opened his door to see the Vatican was being well represented on this day. “Welcome my friends. Blaise, Giovanni, Peter,” he said as he looked at each one. “To what do I owe this honour of your visit?” he asked with a smile. His curiosity was running quite intensely at this point. While he knew why they were here it was better to hear it from their mouths so no mistakes were to be made.

 

“Marcus,” replied Cardinal Giovanni as he swept through the door into the room.  “Word has reached our ears that there have been some visitations that have not been reported by you.”

 

“They are unsubstantiated rumors that we are investigating.”

 

“A visitation from a Saint is not a rumour,” Blaise stated. 

 

“What visitation are you referring to?” he inquired.

 

“We have reports from the local villagers, the parishioners of this church that a bush outside the church was on fire. We also have reports from members of the Church that explain what the boys said when they were here.” replied Peter.

 

“I can show you the bush they are referring to. There is no sign of a fire on it nor on the building behind it.”

 

“We saw that as we approached the Basilica. That doesn’t dismiss the fact that they saw it burning and reported it. It simply magnifies the information of a visitation.” replied Giovanni.

 

“You are basing that on erroneous information?

 

“No.” “They paused. “We are basing it on reliable information that you received a visit from 3 boys who carried letters and information from a visit they had with St. Joan.” 

 

He fumed inwardly at the betrayal of his staff in reporting this. “While it is true that I had a visit from three boys, they were making inquiries about receiving a blessing for their sick parents.”

 

“Marcus, are you aware that the boys returned to their homes and their parish priests have been informed as to what occurred?” asked Blaise. 

 

“The priests are trying to obtain more information from the boys but so far they are incommunicado with the priests. Their parents have filled in the blanks as much as possible.” continued Peter.

 

“Still we know they visited you at the urging of St. Joan." They paused and looked at him intently. Blaise continued, “Do you have any explanation for us?” They paused but he did not answer. 

 

Giovanni continued, “Not only that, but the comings and goings in the Church are not a secret for long.” 

 

Marcus got up and walked towards the door. “My brothers. It appears that you have been seriously misinformed. There has been no visit.” Having said that, he left the room and closed the door.

 

 

Blaise looked over at the Bishop. “He has travelled far for how far he has travelled.”

 

“Shakespeare?” asked the Bishop.

 

Giovanni chuckled. “No. Blaise. He likes to try out new phrases to see how they sound. 

 

The Bishop looked confused at this information.

 

Peter spoke up. “As far as the truth can be discerned. One cannot capture the complexity of the situation in terms of simple thoughts and phrases. Marcus has no reason to lie yet truths are contained within his lies. One cannot simply redefine history because one believes it is unjust. You cannot create new scenarios that suit your set of facts.”

 

“Is history not simply the victors defining a new world?” replied Giovanni. “He is appearing to define his own world with concepts that have carried through time.   “True, true,” replied Blaise. “It does appear as if a new deity has arrived on the scene.”

 

“He is giving new meaning to the idea that, “You stand in silence but how silent is your stand?” While we have some power in this matter it appears that we need more advice before any action is taken.” Peter rose after saying this.

 

Blaise began, “One stands where the balance of power is swayed by words uttered that ring of personal truths. Quicksand does not define power. Decisive action portrayed as power does not resonate unless one believes the power is rightfully gained.”

 

“A modern day Shakespeare you are,” replied Peter.

 

“The truth is that his power , while growing, is also ebbing. He does not have the support of the Church on these matters. We will have to have discussions on how to rein him in.” observed Blaise.

 

“You may be correct,” agreed Giovanni. Turning to the Bishop he started, “You will keep us informed of further developments I presume.

 

“Of course.”

 

With that statement the three Vatican Cardinals rose and left the Basilica. 

 

 

The next day the Bishop entered the Cardinal’s office and he was asked, “have you ever been to Lourdes?”

 

The Bishop warily eyed the Cardinal before answering, “No. I have not.”

 

“It’s a wonderful place. They have a lot of pilgrims who attend. Some to be healed. Some arrive to be blessed. Some who have faith show up and some who are curious about it are looking for something to satisfy their curiosity. From humble beginnings they have built a Cathedral that is immense and created an industry that caters to all the tourists.”

 

The Bishop thought about this for a minute. “That is interesting. I am sure that it  is more than that.”

 

“Of course,” replied the Cardinal.

 

The Bishop observed, “The miracles there had set it up. As some entrepreneur probably said , "There is money in those waters.” 

 

The Cardinal looked at him. “Exactly,” exclaimed the Cardinal. Once everything is established here we could build a larger Cathedral and other facilities to accommodate the faithful on their pilgrimage to our site. I am glad we are on the same page.”

 

“The same page?” responded the Bishop. 

 

“We take this story of St Joan here, the boys visit, and the burning bush. We search the town and country for a miracle, any miracle and then we use it to build a larger religious event.”

 

The Bishop looked bewildered. “That sounds a lot like a huckster. We are going to make money off of nothing.”

 

“There is something in this sighting and visit. There is money to be made anyway. Why not the Church? With the burning bush and the boys' visit to the Basilica, the curious will give alms to support us. We are always short of funds. It will be good to raise some money .”

 

“In your view all we need is a miracle for this to occur on a grander scale?”

 

“Yes, a miracle in the name of St Joan would be beneficial. There have been some in order for her to become a Saint but none of them occurred here. We need something here along the lines of Lourdes or Fatima. A healing miracle would be the best,” he mused. 

 

“Unfortunately the Vatican is already involved in this. That does not make me happy. Why were they summoned?”

 

The Bishop looked wary but had prepared his answer. The Vatican learned about the Boys from other parishes. You know how rumours are. Especially rumours of this magnitude.” 

 

The Cardinal looked thoughtful at this. “I will look after them once we have what we need to set it all up.” 

 

“Your Eminence, I have to ask you about the boys. They have informed many people that they gave you notes from St. Joan.“

 

“While it is true that there were notes, the notes urged us to use our influence to help grow her Church.”

 

The Bishop hoped he held his face more carefully than he felt. “St. Joan is urging us to raise money and to create a greater shrine in her honour?”

 

The Cardinal grew wary of this question. “In essence, yes,” he answered. “I need you to lead the search for a miracle.”

 

What he was being asked was preposterous. The Cardinal had no idea what the boys had said to Father Stepehn or himself. 

 

The Cardinal continued,” While there are 9 types of miracles it would be best to look for healing miracles. They are the easiest to find according to my research. Other miracles are pretty much beyond our control here.” He paused as he wondered about the other types of miracles. Most were God type miracles. Possibly he could create one he thought, before the Bishop asked. 

 

●     Healing miracles: Curing physical illnesses and impairments

●     Exorcisms: Casting out demons and unclean spirits

●     Nature miracles: Calming storms, feeding multitudes, and other control over nature

●     Restoration miracles: Raising the dead, restoring to life, and resurrection

●     Creational miracles: Divine acts that bring things into existence, such as the creation of the universe

●     Sustaining miracles: Miracles that sustain or support something

●     Providential miracles: Miracles that are providential in nature

●     Predictive miracles: Miracles that are predictive in nature

●     Suspension miracles: Miracles that involve suspension

 

“Do you have any other instructions for me?”

 

“Not at this time. This needs to be done quickly and with great control. There can be no moving forward until we have found our miracle.”

 

“I understand,” responded the BIshop and with those final words he turned and left the room.

 

“Find a miracle,” The Bishop thought. “It is near impossible. It would take time to find one. With any luck I will not need one.”

 

His thoughts ran back to the discussions he had with the Vatican Cardinals. He would proceed cautiously as it appeared that they were giving some thoughts towards having the Cardinal removed from his position. Until that time he would have to make attempts to look like he was working with the Cardinal. In order to do so he would need to use his contacts to see how to proceed.   

 

 

 

The Cardinal was standing at the pulpit surveying the empty pews in front of him.

 

“The Cardinal is conducting a service," whispered the friars. Word spread quickly as each attempted to find a space to observe this scenario behind the closed doors of the Basilica. Some were awakened by their brothers to observe this unusual scenario. 

 

“I see the Saints have joined us tonight as I seek understanding. It's fitting that they are here as one is creating issues within this building.” He glanced up to the places where the friars were hidden.  

 

“I am the saviour of mankind. It is through me that all exists.”  

 

A gasp escaped the lips of one of the Friars.“ The Cardinal cried,  “Out foul servant. Thine pleasure should be attempted elsewhere. I am God! Lord of all you see, feel, hear and do. When I speak, I am obeyed.” This was met with silence. He looked around carefully before he moved on.

 

“In the beginning there was I. In my wisdom I created all that exists. I moulded and sculpted and developed all that you see and experience. I gave life.” he paused. “I gave life,” he repeated.

 

“I stand here before you today to right a ship that is caught in stormy waters. I am having brought down from the mountains a new Ten Commandments that will build stronger apple trees that give home to the doves among us. Let the bells toll as we cleanse ourselves of our sins. Let us bear the cross of resurrection and break bread with those who are true believers. “

 

“I have been bedevilled by the flames of an usurping Saint who claims she is the voice of God.”

 

“I am the voice of God, I am God!” he thundered, his voice rumbling and echoing all around him sounding more powerful and ominous with each word.”

  

“It is with this Chalice that I drink the blood of life. The blood that sustains us in our times of trouble. The blood that cleanses our body of sins. 

 

“This morning I expelled an Angel, A Saint from this building. Much as I had advisors earlier in my life she has provided me visions and insights that have propelled me on to create greater things for you, my flock. My work among you has blessed each of you with treasures greater than one could ever expect.”

 

“St Therese has advised me that the patron Saint of this church, indeed of France, is an usurper. She deigns to speak as if she has talked to Me but she has failed to express my wishes. She has failed to deliver on her promises and works to create fear in those among us who  have witnessed her follies. She has not stepped inside the circle but created her own circle separate from the word of Me. “

 

“It is she who is being banished from this church. She is being banished from Sainthood.” 

 

“A Spire shall be built to honour me. As it rises towards my home it will be in touch with all the good things I desire in life. The Holy Trinity will gather to reaffirm my desires. “

 

“My love is a circle. It knows no beginning and suffers no end. It illuminates the holy desires sending halos of light forth, guiding us to our salvation. It is through this love that St. Therese provides the guidance necessary to see life as it should be.”

 

“We in France have symbols that represent life. The Fleur des Lis is one such symbol. The purity inherent in the lily represents all who sustain us., the Father, The Son and the holy ghost. May their advice continue to inspire.”

 

“As there is a beginning there is an end. “

 

“This is the will of me,” he intoned deeply, sending echoes through the Nave as he walked down the steps to the aisle and continued until he was out of the main body of the church.

 

The Friars all looked stunned as they walked from their hiding spots back to their rooms for further prayers.

 

Many muttered about his insanity.

 

“Well,” started Father Stephen as he moved towards the Bishop. He let his comment stand as he puzzled through what he had heard.

 

“It appears that our Cardinal has a deity he worships and it is not God,” reflected the Bishop. 

 

“St Therese?” asked the Priest.

 

“Indeed,” reflected the Bishop. “And more. This appears to be his alpha and omega. His beginning and his end.” he said

 

“Who is St Therese?” asked the Priest.

 

“At the moment a complete unknown,” replied the Bishop as he walked back to his rooms. 

 

Father Stephen sat in the last pew and reflected on everything he knew so far. He suspected that St. Joan would be heard from again and rather soon. Her interest in the Church so far had been aimed at the Cardinal. “It may be best to wait for her next move,’ he reflected. He would turn his thoughts towards St Therese wondering if this person was a real Saint or an imagined one to suit the Cardinal’s needs.

 

 

The Bishop paused as he entered his suite. In his observance the Bishop had noted that the Cardinal had become too focused on money.  For quite a while now he had not been thinking about the parishioners who gave and gave when there was little to give. His Eminence had been focusing on big ticket items. More gold instruments, a chalice, candelabra, a cross. These were not things that should be a focus. Keeping it simple and nearer to the original ways had always been the Bishop's belief.  

 

There was the question of St. Therese. This was the first time the Cardinal had mentioned the name. There was a Therese of Lisieux who was about to be canonized. Was she his St. Therese? It seemed presumptuous to be doing so ahead of being named a Saint. While the Cardinal would be a part of the ceremony in Rome, this would not be so important as to draw his attention here. The Bishop realized that the answer lay in the Cardinal’s suite. Somehow he would have t get access to the suite to solve this problem.

 

The madness, the delusion that he is God! Was it for effect because the Friars had been watching or did he truly believe it? As the Bishop wandered through his memories he could not recall the Cardinal ever taking this stance. It was so out of place to his way of thinking. Was it a momentary lapse? Who knows? 

 

“Who could be St. Therese,” he wondered. This was something else that needed to be looked into.  

 

The Bishop puzzled over the words he had heard in the nave. The Cardinal had made many references that were not clear in his meaning. He had to ponder the God-like references further.

 

 

In the morning Father Stephen looked at the financial books. He could not for the life of him figure out where the money went that was labeled renovations. If his memory served him correctly there had been no renovations in the last five years yet there was this line that said renovations. 

 

He looked up as the Bishop entered the small room. “Have you found anything?” he asked.

 

“The only major thing I can see is this line that is labelled renovations. I have heard nothing about renovations.”

 

The bishop reflected for a minute. “The Cardinal had told me that he had some modifications done to his living quarters. He said they were small and done purely for comfort.”

 

Father Stephen looked at the page again and then quickly turned to the Bishop. “A small renovation done for this amount of money,” he said pointing to the line on the ledger. 

 

The Bishop leaned over and blanched at the number. “There must be some mistake,” he said. “What kind of renovations cost that small fortune?”

 

“What part of his living quarters were renovated? He only has a couple of rooms.”

 

“Do we have a copy of the floor plans for that wing?” asked the Bishop.

 

Through the gathering of the little bits and prices of information many things were becoming more apparent. This horrified the Bishop.

 

The return of the boys to their homes, all had not been at all pleasant for them. While their parents had been happy to see them they had been inundated with Priest visits to try to determine what had happened as the rumours of their visit to the Cardinal began to circulate amongst the small townspeople. 

 

“Where were you when St. Joan visited? How did you know it was St. Joan? Why didn’t you bring your visit to our attention? Why did you have to go to the Cardinal? What did the notes say?” 

 

Francois sat quietly listening to the questions his priests had for him. He gave answers where he could but he was afraid that his inability to answer some questions created more problems. While the Priests had good reason to believe him there were doubts amongst them that overshadowed what good had been done. He was bored and annoyed by their constant questions and demanding proof of the visitation. In some ways this was far worse than the visit to the Cardinal had been. At least then he knew there was an end in sight. Now, just discomfort.

 

Francois felt great relief when his parents ushered the priests away stating that he needed his rest from the ordeal. 

 

“We know part of what St. Joan said to you but we don’t know the whole story,” stated his father when he returned from closing the door on their family priests.

 

Francois looked at his parents with some concern as he tried to make out what was going on. “Are you asking for the Priests or because you are curious,” he asked his parents. 

 

A look of recognition showed on his Fathers face. “I will not lie to you. A bit of both.”

 

As Francois considered this he replied, “If you had asked because of your own interest I would have told you. But now I will keep it to myself. I am tired of all the questions and the people bothering me for information. I did what I was asked to do and I will do it again when she is prepared to talk to us but until then I am going to rest.” He then rose and retired to his room. 

 

As he lay on his bed he reflected on all the people who wanted something from him. “For what?” he wondered. “I was doing my honour to help a saint. She never prepared us for the after effects of all the people’s interest.” Even now there were people outside his house looking for some kind of miracle. He was giving miracles? Only St Joan could do that. He was just a boy. Why wouldn’t’ people leave him alone?

 

Normand stood at the window peeking out through the curtain. The lines of people outside his house staggered him. When he went outside it was almost as bad as when the Priests were questioning him. 

 

“What did St. Joan say Normand?” was a frequent question. His peers taunted him with, “You didn't actually see St. Joan did you?” as they pushed and shoved him. “Is St. Joan protecting you now?”  they yelled as they hurled hurtful words at him. More than once his parents had to rescue him when he played outside. 

 

And then there were the people who touched him whenever they got close to him. They were praying and bothering him seeking to be healed, to be forgiven, to be granted a wish like he was a Fairy Godfather who could just poof and all the problems would simply go away. He was hiding out in his bedroom , avoiding all the relatives who had gathered and looked at him with any number of types of eyes. He was tired of being creeped out. 

 

Pierre had to wonder what he had done to have people he knew treat him this way. His parents had closed the doors to their house and refused entry for all who came to visit. 

 

“Pierre is not a pet for you to visit. He is a boy who has brought us honour,” stated his parents. He has been part of a vision and is now resting.”

 

They were grateful for his return and wanted him to return to his former life. They suspected that in time much of the fuss would fade away. Until then they would protect him the best that they knew how.

 

All the parents had a knock on their door from someone they knew who was ill. All were looking for a miracle to help save their lives. Unfortunately when it was explained to them that the boys had no miracles but were simply messengers for the Saint, their friends and relatives often shook their heads and left quickly.  

 

A number of weeks had passed. The boys were a little relieved as there were no more visions. The numbers around their houses were dwindling. All was returning to a more normal state. 

 

So it was not unusual when one morning each of them heard a voice whispering to go to the grotto the next day. Each rose before sunrise and made their way to see St. Joan.

 

Father Charles, who was watching Francois house, noticed the movements and followed them to the grotto. 

 

 

Father Charles was ready to report to the Cardinal. He was not happy about it. It really had been a waste of his time. The boys had survived the onslaught of public interest, harried questions from fellow priests and the insult of people expecting miracles with a calmness that belied their age. That was until a little while ago when all three boys appeared outside their houses and headed towards the grotto. 

 

He had tried to get as close as he could to the grotto but that man who had appeared got in his way and made life difficult for him to be near the grotto at all. When he was finally able to break away the boys had been inside the grotto for a while. Nothing abnormal had happened and shortly they appeared ready to take a trip to see the Cardinal once again. He was able to deduce this as the boys did not return to their homes but were on the road to the Basilica.   

 

 

Marie Therese had settled nicely into her house months ago and began making plans for her future. The little garden behind the house would allow her to have fresh vegetables in season. She was moving along in her pregnancy and was preparing for it by finding all the items she needed. She had hired a midwife to advise her. She was now noticeably pregnant when there was a knock on her door.

 

She opened the door to find Three Cardinals standing there in full Cardinal garb. This caused her great concern.  She had hoped to stay hidden as long as possible. It looked like that illusion was about to end. 

 

“Are you Marie Therese?” asked Cardinal Peter.

 

She was shocked that he knew her name. “Yes. Why are you here?”

 

Cardinal Giovanni looked at this stunning young woman who was obviously pregnant. He felt some sorrow for her situation but also some concern for what he was suspecting had transpired. ”We are here to discuss some matters concerning St. Joan’s Basilica in Domrémy-la-Pucelle.

 

Marie Therese’s heart dropped at that pronouncement. As she stood there looking at her three visitors she was more determined than ever to live up to her pledge to Marcus. “I am unaware of anything that has happened in Domrémy-la-Pucelle. As you can see I am pregnant and live in Paris. I have been here for a while.”

 

Blaise looked at the poor woman. “May we come in? We have much to discuss,” he replied without acknowledging that she had spoken. She nodded and the Cardinals followed her into the house. She gently closed the door. 

 

The three men stood in the living quarters and marveled at the lush furnishings. “Your home is nicely furnished,” observed Peter. 

 

“Thank you. I have recently come into some money so I bought things that would look nice and last.”

 

“Very tasteful,” observed Blaise. “Have you ever been to Domrémy-la-Pucelle or St. Joan’s Basilica?”

 

“As I said, I have been here. I cannot travel so I am resting,” she replied without looking at the Cardinals.

 

“In our research,” began Giovanni, “we have determined that you bought this house recently. How did you get the money for it?”

 

Marie Therese felt nervous at this point. “I… came into some money.”

 

“Where did this money come from?” she was asked.  

 

“Why are you making these inquiries? Am I being suspected of something wrong?”

 

Peter squared up and looked her in the eye. “We have reports that while this house is in your name, that you did not purchase it. It was purchased through a lawyer affiliated with the Church.” They watched her carefully. 

 

Marie Therese suspected that they knew far more than they were telling her. Her decision and that of the future of her unborn child meant that she had to do what was best. She could not lie to the Cardinals. Therefore she made a decision rather quickly. “I need to sit down,” she stated. 

 

“Of course,” replied Giovanni. “Where are our manners? You should have sat down a while ago.” Marie Therese moved to her favourite chair. 

 

“I believe I can answer some of your questions. But first I need to make sure my child and I are looked after.”

 

“What did Cardinal Marcus promise you?’ They inquired. 

 

Marie Therese tried to reflect her strength as she recounted a story that she promised not to tell. It was one thing to believe in Cardinal Marcus but another to accept these men from God and honour their beings with the truth. Upon the completion of her tale Giovanni looked at her. “Legally I am sure there is a way to reclaim Church money. That would also cause a scandal we do not wish to have occurred. So we have an alternate plan.” and with that the three Cardinals laid out a very generous vision for Marie Therese's life. She smiled as they exited the building.

 

 

Back at the Basilica things had grown more tense. “Enter,” called out the Cardinal in answer to the knock on his door.

 

“Your Eminence, I have some questions about somethings that have arisen over the last little while,” stated the Bishop directly. He had wasted enough time following the leads to this door. He had to ask the questions before the Vatican Cardinals returned today. 

 

“What might they be?” he responded with caution, a fiery look in his eyes.

 

The Bishop took it all in and continued. 

 

“As a part of the requirements from the Vatican we have looked over the books. There are some irregularities that have been noted. One is the costs for renovating your suite have risen above what it did cost to perform renovations in other areas.”

 

“And?”

 

“It appears that your suites have somehow been modified and are not on the floor plans for the building. Extra walls erected and more ensuites added than what the cleaning staff can see.” 

 

“Go on,” he encouraged without really meaning it. He was keeping his thoughts in check until the Bishop had completed what he came here for. 

 

“There have been reports of extra foods being delivered to your rooms on a regular basis.”

 

“And.” 

 

“There appear to be extra charges added to many of the bills that we have paid. In the books these charges do not add up when there is a comparison with the invoices we were sent. In some cases they far outweigh what we were charged. The number is actually quite large.”

 

“I see,” replied the Cardinal. 

 

The Bishop all of a sudden had become uncomfortable.  The lack of communication, one way or the other, from the Cardinal fed his greatest concerns about the situation he faced. That combined with the Cardinal’s performance in the Chapel the other night created a sense of outright concern.   “And there is a lawyers fee that no one seems to know about.”

 

“Ahh,” replied the Cardinal. 

 

The Bishop stood his ground in front of the Cardinal’s desk. He resolutely determined to remain silent until the Cardinal addressed these issues that had been placed before him. 

 

“What I am hearing you say is that you are having some trouble with the word of God being issued to deal with each of these items?”

 

The Bishop looked shocked. “The Word of God? You will have to forgive me as I am unaware of any word of God that deems these features from our lives as being important, or secretive.”

 

Fire flashed in the Cardinal’s eyes. ”God speaks through me and is me. The words and methods are not to be questioned but to be followed as an act of faith.”

 

“Oh, he understands, Marcus,” was heard from the doorway as the Vatican priests entered the room. 

 

“What we don't understand,” Giovanni continued,”Is how this word of God speaking through you has not been communicated with the Holy Father? Why are your brothers not aware of the voices you hear nor of the plans that have been put forward in the name of God.”

 

Marcus was taken aback by the visitation of the Pope’s representatives. “Why was I not informed of your visit today?” he asked as he turned to the Bishop. “Are the people of my Church conspiring against me?”

 

“You always were dramatic Marcus,” began Peter. “While the Bishop has some concerns and has been working on His Holiness behalf, he has been instructed to not discuss things with you until today. How do you answer his questions Marcus?”

 

Marcus looked thunderously angry.

 

“No answer yet,” replied Peter. “Perhaps you could explain Marie Therese, who I understand was also referred to as St. Therese. 

 

“God does not answer to mere mortals.”

 

Blaise looked amused at this statement. “This is your response Marcus? Are you referring to yourself as God now?  

 

“God speaks through me therefore my responses on a personal level are inconsequential to the positions taken by those around me. I speak God’s word therefore I am God.”

 

“Does your God stand above the word of all the other voices of God that are reflected in sermons everyday? How does this work Marcus?”

 

“I cannot answer for other people. I only know what I am told therefore it is the only word of God.”

 

Peter smiled. “Marcus, by the powers invested in us, you are requested to step aside from your position.”

 

“And if I refuse?”

 

“You will be in disobedience of the word of the Church. You will be stripped of your position and removed from your duties here.”

 

“God does not find this acceptable.”

 

The Cardinals looked at each other weary of the conversation. 

 

Giovanni spoke. “Our instructions have been relayed to you. You have three days to make a decision. In the meantime the Bishop is in charge of this building and all who work, live and pray here. His word will not be usurped in any way. You are confined to your rooms until your decision is made. Please pray for guidance.”  “We will return in three days for your answer. Bishop?” Blaise asked as he indicated they were leaving the room. Each of the men left, closing the door behind them. 

 

The Cardinal sat at his desk stunned. How could they direct God in such a disrespectful manner?

 

“I am God!” he yelled. “I am the chosen one. All non-believers will be smited.” He sat and considered all of his options. First the boys. Then St. Joan. The Bishop. The Cardinals who until recently had been brothers in the fight for saving souls. 

 

As his mind drifted it turned to MarieTherese. Being who she was she would have accepted her fate and talked to the Cardinal Brothers. They may have found her house but he had made sure that it would remain hers.  

 

He needed the return of Father Charles from the grotto. There had to be an answer for him from the boys and St. Joan. St. Joan was his only hope.

 

There was a knock at the door the next morning.

 

“Enter,” The Cardinal called out.

 

Father Charles entered the room.

 

“Well?”asked the Cardinal.

 

“I am afraid, your Eminence,” he began as the Bishop entered the room. 

 

“What are you doing here?” demanded the Cardinal. 

 

“As you should recall I am in charge of everything here. I wish to hear what Father Charles has to report.”

 

Father Charles' eyes goggled at this piece of information. He quickly turned to the Cardinal. 

 

“What he says is true. Please report and then begone." The reality of the situation was starting to wear on the Cardinal. HIs initial anticipation was now turning to dread.

 

“Your, Eminences?” Father Charles began. “There is not much to report. The priests in their village are eager for information but not much was forthcoming despite their insistence that they needed to be informed. The parents threw a protective blanket around their children. The parishioners also demanded more information and especially those with illnesses demanded cures. None were forthcoming.”

 

“And the boys?”

 

“They were rarely seen. However early one morning a couple of days ago they left their houses in the middle of the night and met up. I followed them to the grotto but was accosted by a vagrant. When I was able to free myself they were leaving the grotto. They bypassed their homes and appeared to be heading here.”

 

“You did not follow them here?” asked the Bishop.

 

“I thought it best to provide my report, no matter how meager it is, so that your

Eminence,” indicating the Cardinal would be prepared for their arrival.”

 

“When should we anticipate their arrival?”

 

“Soon. I would expect them to arrive later today. Tomorrow at the latest.”

 

The Cardinal gave this some thought.

 

The Bishop spoke to Father Charles. “You are dismissed. Find yourself some food and then return to your normal duties.”

 

Father Charles smiled, bowed and exited the room.

 

“Well that was useless,” intoned the Cardinal.

 

“Not so,” disagreed the Bishop. “They are just boys. They will arrive soon. We must prepare.”

 

“Prepare?” asked the Cardinal.

 

“They will be tired, hungry, and cold. They will be treated well and then brought to see you. I assume that this is what you desire?”

 

“It is. Thank you for the courtesy you are providing to me. I am not so sure if it were reversed that I would be so forgiving.”

 

The Bishop looked at the Cardinal. “I have always understood that about you.” He turned and left the room.

 

As he closed the door the Bishop said to himself, “That is a fundamental difference in our beliefs. I am here for the betterment of everyone. You are looking out for yourself.”  

 

The boys were greeted at the front doors by Father Stephen.”You have returned,“ he said warmly. 

 

Francois smiled,” Father, you knew we would return.”

 

“Of course,” he replied. “Is there anything I should know?”

 

“Not much has changed for us,” stated Normand.

 

Is there anything we could do before you see him?” asked Father Stephen.

 

“Food,” replied Pierre. “Water.”

 

“A fire,” responded Normand.

 

“Right this way gentlemen.” Father Stephen led them over to the room they used before where a small banquet had been laid out. 

 

As they finished eating Father Stephen asked,” I know you have your instructions but is there anything we need to know to prepare for what may occur?”

 

“Father…” began Normand

 

“Say no more. If you are finished shall we proceed?”

 

The boys rose and walked to the door. They followed him to the Cardinal’s office without a further word. Father Stephen looked at them. Francois nodded and there was a knock on the door.

 

The Cardinal opened the door. The boys let out a small gasp. The once robust Cardinal had lost some weight. Where his eyes had been full of life before they now looked sunken and wary. 

 

“I look that bad do I ?” he asked. “Well come in. I have been waiting for you.”

 

 As the boys settled on the furniture he looked at each carefully. They had grown in confidence in his estimation. While they too were wary, they accepted their fate.

 

“How were things once you returned home?” he started. This caught them by surprise. They looked at each other.

 

Normand spoke, “it was not what we expected. We were poked and proded.”

 

“There were too many questions.”

 

“And the sick people , all they wanted to do was touch us.”

 

“They were looking for cures for their illnesses.” spoke the Cardinal. 

 

“That sounds about right,” replied Pierre. 

 

“And St. Joan?”

 

Francois reached into his bag and produced the only letter.” 

 

The Cardinal looked at the letter for a while before taking it from Francois’ hand. “Are there more?” he inquired. 

 

“No. There is only one.”

 

“Sir,” spoke Pierre. “We only wish the best for you.”

 

The Cardinal took this in. He studied the 3 boys who had simply done their duty.

 

“I am afraid that what has been done is done.” There was some tension in the room. “I want to thank you for all that you have done. It has not been easy. You have been brave and strong through all of this. St. Joan must be pleased. Your faith in God has been proven. Your future lies within the Church. Wherever you go, if you need help the Church will always be there to help you. May you go in Peace.

 

With that he rose and walked to the door. As each boy followed him he offered his hand and said a personal Thank You. Wearily he closed the door after them and returned to his seat.  

 

HIs future depended upon a miracle. He could see now that one would not be forthcoming. Reluctantly he opened the note.

 

Your thoughts are in vain. 

Your love of God has waned

Self importance rules the day. 

Your thoughts cannot hold sway.

Step down. Become lost in prayer.

Save your soul, be aware. 

A new Cardinal will be appointed in three days

It has to be this way way

Change your heart

Change your mind

The love of God is kind.

 

He set the letter down and wept.

 

 

“My only mistake is that I did not rise to the power I needed to obliterate all those who disagree with me.” He thought about this for a while. “Therein lies the issue. When lesser voices speak in society one makes the attempt to align themselves in concordance with those voices thereby limiting the scope of their inquiries to mundane things. Greatness occurs when one steps outside those simple voices and works towards a larger picture. One's growth is outside where normal discourse lies.”

 

He had thought the voice of God was his voice. “But what good is the voice of God if I do not have the power for it to be true? Am I simply a man much like they believe I am?”

 

His thoughts wandered to his time in the Church. He had risen to this position due to his ability to seize control of any situation and make it work in his favour. But this time it appeared that it was out of his hands.”We are but pawns who use our intelligence like a bludgeon to carve out destinies when we are merely water and carbon and destined to return there. We are grand in our own self importance.“

 

“I am God! I cannot die like mere mortals.” He thought about this for a minute.  He smiled. “If Saints have found a way to live in heaven then I too will have to find a way to achieve what they achieve.” 

 

Cardinal Marcus picked up his glass and swallowed all, absorbing his visions until he lay his head down on his desk for one final time. In his last thoughts he hoped that Marie Therese, St. Therese, would have a safe and happy life. 

 

 

There was a knock on the Cardinal’s door. The Bishop was aware that the

Cardinal had gone nowhere. He knocked again. “Cardinal Marcus,” he called out. The Bishop slowly turned the knob and entered the room. He looked over at the Cardinal and said a small prayer. 

 

While he waited for a Doctor he looked at the letters from Saint Joan. “Oh Marcus, what have you done?” He tucked the letters away in his robes. It was the least he could do until after the burial had occurred.    

 

 

 

At the news of the Cardinal’s passing each of the boys smiled. The secret they had kept had come to fruition. They knew that their task had ended as St Joan had indicated it was so. 

As Francois stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, he took in his pastoral surroundings. He felt honoured to have been able to aid St. Joan. His thoughts were interrupted by a woman who stepped forward.

She offered her hand. “Francois?” she asked. “The one who was visited by St Joan?”

“Yes,” he answered as he shook her hand. 

Immediately the woman stood upright. “Thank you for curing me of my illness,” she cried as she dropped to her knees. “It’s a miracle!”   

Francois sighed. As had been foretold now began the mysteries of life.