Fatima (Part 1)

FATIMA!
(April 6-9)

Fatima was to be my first all out solo pilgrimage. Being of Portuguese heritage, I was definitely eager to see Portugal and go to one of the most important apparition sites of the 20th century. Of the big three - Fatima, Medjugorje and Lourdes - Fatima was definitely a priority for me.

Two things shaped my trip to Fatima: Sister Maria de los Angeles - my best friend during my time there, and Sister Lucia's memoirs. More on both these in a minute...

Journeying to the Old Country
I paid a few extra bucks for a direct flight to Lisbon, so it was only supposed to be a two-hour trip. An extra $25 cut three hours out of my travel time - money well spent, I thought. But all that was euro down the drain as I managed to accidentally get to the airport a whopping four hours early. I'm still trying to figure out how I did this. As an X-Files fan, I've learned that when aliens abduct you, you experience "lost time." Well, I had the opposite of lost time. I'm not sure what conspiracy theory goes with "gained time," but whatever it is, it happened to me - there's simply no other explanation. Spooky, huh?

Anyway, this made the whole trip just as long, if not longer, as if I had paid for the cheap flight. What's worse, at the Fiumicino airport, they first tell you which area of the airport to go to, then which ticket counter to check in at, then which gate to depart from. I was there so early they didn't even have my airport area listed. So, I couldn't even start the process of getting my ticket for two hours and thus there was zero advantage to arriving at the airport that early.

Seven hours later, I was all joy and anticipation as I landed in Lisbon. I still had a bit of a journey ahead of me. I had to somehow get to the bus station which was nowhere near the airport, then take a two-hour bus over to Fatima, then find my accommodations. Turns out I had to take a taxi to the bus station - never good news when one's in a major city. So, if Rome was any indication, I was prepared to dish out 50 euro for a ride from the airport. Imagine my abundance of glee when the taxi driver asked me for 5 euro...Oh yes, Portugal and I are going to get along just fine.

The bus ride to Fatima was gorgeous. The Portuguese countryside was phenomenal. The olive trees and stone buildings gave it an old country charm, but the lush, green scenery made me feel like I was riding through virgin lands undisturbed by man. In some ways, it was reminiscent of the Italian countryside, with the exception of millions of white rocks lined up in little walls or haphazardly laying in piles. This picturesque accessory made the land distinctly Portuguese.



Casa das Irmas
My accommodations were at the Dominican sisters' guest house. It was possibly the most fantastic place I've ever stayed for the price. The rooms are clean, spacious and inexpensive and the sisters are wonderful. It is the perfect location, within walking distance of the bus station and right between the shrine at Cova d'Ira, where the miracle occurred and our Lady appeared the most times, and Valihnos, where the Angel and Our Lady appeared once, and where the Hungarian stations of the cross are located. Plus, you can add board to your accommodations, where they give you all the wine you want and bottled water to take with you. It's simply fantastic! Anyone venturing to Fatima ought to stay there. End of commercial.





The Shrine - Cova d'Ira
The best thing I did for myself on this trip was let go of my expectations. It's tempting to think, as you are riding to Fatima in the beautiful, quiet, Portuguese countryside, that the shrine is going to be sitting on top of one of the many lonely hills that surround you.
Soak it all in while you can. Because the land you are passing by is a good representation of what Fatima was at the time of the apparitions. But since Fatima has become a major pilgrimage site, it's ironically one of the few hills in the area bustling with noise and tourists. There is concrete, there are neon signs, and there are lots of vendors selling cheap, plastic junk that I hope nobody would ever buy for me.
Also, don't expect the shrine to be an ornate Basilica a la Italian Renaissance. There are no tapestries, no obelisks, no marble statues by Michelangelo, no gold-laden ceilings. It's a modern shrine in a modern city. And why should it be anything else? Fatima is a modern apparition.
Indeed it was a breath of fresh air to see a shrine designed to be beautiful in the modern style.







Highlights at the shrine include the Chapel of Apparitions, where Our Lady of the Rosary appeared. It's an outdoor chapel, built over the little chapel that what built back in the early 1900s, just after the shepherds had experienced the apparitions.
Also there is the holmoak tree! This the original tree that was there during the time of the apparitions and figures greatly in Sister Lucia's memoirs. Of course, there is also the shrine, in which all the three little shepherds are buried, adorned with flowers brought by the many pilgrims. There is also a wonderful Eucharist Adoration chapel and a museum where you can see the crown which sits atop our Lady of the Rosary during May 13 procession, and in which the bullet that hit John Paul II is embedded.


Below the blue globe that the cross sits on, you can see the bullet hanging down. John Paul gave this bullet to the shrine after the attempt on his life. He considered it the intercession of Our Lady of the Rosary which saved him. Some years later, someone thought to place it in the crown. They were surprised when it fit perfectly inside! Nothing had to be altered!
Sister Mary of the AngelsAs soon as I arrived at the Casa das Irmas, a little sister named Sister Mary of the Angels came down to greet me. How can I describe her sweetness?
Her soft voice and thick Spanish accent make her difficult to understand, but her fiery spirit makes you determined to listen. She has an genuine smile and a light in her eyes that would make even the most stubborn atheist consider religious life just to have a measure of her peace. She is constantly fussing with her habit, trying to tuck her stubborn white hair underneath it.
"When I wash my hair it gets slippery," she told me over and over again.
She shakes terribly on account of Parkinson's disease, but that never stopped her from pouring me another glass of wine. She has a cooler in her cell filled with Coca-cola. The Coke is weaker in caffeine than coffee and it helps calm the shaking. Sometimes when we were walking along, her face would turn a little sad. When I asked her why, she said she missed Madrid, her hometown. Then we would proceed to reminisce about the beauty of Spain and the charm of Madrid. Luckily, I have been there and can whole-heartily agree with it's wonder.

Sister Mary of the Angels stands beneath the apparition
site of the Angel at Valinhos.

We spent a great deal of time together, Sister and I. She sat with me at meals (where I ate linguisa grandma and grandpa!) and took me all over Fatima to show me the important places.
AljustrelOn Friday morning, we went to Aljustrel to Lucia's house and then to Francisco and Jacinta's house. The homes are well preserved and you really get an idea of how simply the Portuguese people lived less than a hundred years ago.
The homes were poor and very small. The shepherds would be considered as living far below the poverty line by today's standards. Most people today would consider it irresponsible to have so many children in those poor conditions, and yet, Lucia says they never wanted for anything. Their home was loving and her parents spent much of their energy giving what little they had to the poorer among them. They never refused a beggar.
At Lucia's home is the well at which an apparition of the Angel took place. It is also the place where the little shepherds would go to pray and talk about their intimate mystical experiences.

Sister Mary of the Angels at the well at Sister Lucia's home.

Sister Lucia relates an occassion where the children were being persecuted on account of the apparitions. She was summoned to appear before the Administrator. Jacinta's and Francisco's parents refused to let them go as they were so little, 7 and 9-years-old. But Lucia, the oldest at 10, was forced to go and "answer for herself."
"They all took advantage of this occasion to frighten us in every way they could. Next day, as we were passing by my uncle's house...I ran to say goodbye to Jacinta...who was still in bed. Doubtful as to whether we would ever see one another again, I threw my arms around her. Bursting into tears, the poor child sobbed:
'If they kill you, tell them that Francisco and I are just the same as you, and that we want to die too. I'm going right now to the well with Francisco, and we'll pray hard for you.'
When I got back at night fall, I ran to the well, and there were the pair of them on their knees, leaning over the side of the well, their heads buried in their hands, weeping bitterly.
As soon as they saw me, they cried out in astonishment:'You've come then? Why, your sister came here to draw water and told us that they'd killed you! We've been praying and crying so much for you!'"
- Fatima in Lucia's Own Words, p. 51.
Today, you can drink from the well these little shepherds shed their tears in, praying and crying from morning to night. Sure, there are a few tiny critters swimming around in the water, but it's clean and it tastes pretty good!
In short, reading the memoirs totally transformed my experience. Had I not learned about the places and events, I would have simply been a Catholic traveling to an apparition site to satiate my curiosity. Instead, I was a pilgrim on a religious journey.
The little shepherds are a testimony to the beauty and value of redemptive suffering, the necessity of devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, and the unshakable faith of little children, who are never too young to hear the Gospel.
ValinhosFollowing the tour of Aljustrel, we went to Valinhos, where the little shepherds saw the first apparition of the Angel. While the area of the shrine is littered with hotels and bustling with business, this area is quiet, prayerful and serene. Built there are Hungarian stations of the cross and a pathway connecting various apparition sites. These are amidst green pastures.

Site and monument commemorating
the Apparition of the Blessed Virgin Mary at Valinhos

Site and monument commemorating the apparition
of the Angel at Valinhos

Peace and quiet away from tourism at Valinhos

Along the Hungarian Way of the Cross at Valinhos

The Parish Church and CemeteryOn Saturday morning, Sister Mary of the Angels and I went to the parish church. This is the church the little shepherds attended and were baptized at! We walked from the convent and it was not close! Though, it was closer than from where the little shepherds lived. To think, those little kids, and others far less healthy than I had to walk there every Sunday, Feast Days, and other days they wanted to go to mass! I shall never complain about having to get to Mass again. It wasn't so very far, but far enough that it would be a pain to do it regularly without a car.
We went there to visit Sister's mother's grave, as the cemetery is just across the street. Just like in Assisi, every single grave had flowers adorning it. The Europeans really know something about remembering their loved ones.
Now, a little story about language. Sister had asked me to go to with her to mother's grave. She wanted to tend to the flowers on her tomb as she said were "sick."
On the way there, we stopped at a florist where she borrowed some clippers. So, naturally, I thought she was going to trim bottom of the stems to try and perk them up a little.
When we got to the grave, she grabbed the flowers and started trying to clip the bottoms, but she couldn't manage it.
Oh my gosh, I thought to myself, the flowers are plastic! She is trying to clip plastic flowers and she doesn't know it! She thinks they are real. I guess she doesn't see so well, or maybe old age has made her slightly senile, that she is trying to clip "sick" plastic flowers.
Finally, I couldn't stand to see her struggle anymore and told her they were plastic, which is why she can't clip them.
"I know that," she said.
Turns out she just wanted to separate the plastic flowers as they were bunched at the bottom, and the weight was tipping them over. Pheww! I guess she didn't know the English word for broken, so she said the flowers were sick, which made me think she was a little sick in the head.
When we had worked out the flower situation, Sister took me over to a little cafe where we enjoyed some ice-cold Cokes. Then, we called a taxi for my trip to Santerem.
Those are a few sweet memories with Sister that I will never forget!

The tombs of Blessed Jacinta and Sister Lucia, inside the Basilica

The Tomb of Blesed Francisco, located opposite
Lucia and Blessed Jacinta, in the Basilica