The south wall of the farmstead was covered with votive tablets (offerings dedicated to a saint at a pilgrimage shrine): Maria has helped! Cured of severe illness! Thanks for all eternity! I am healthy again! Passed my examination! None of the languages I know are missing from these ex votos. 'Mama Rosa' must indeed be able to work miracles. I had come to the right address.
In one part of the yard long rows of red oil lamps flickered on iron shelves. Behind them on a table stood the large plastic bottles with 'miraculous water' from San Damiano. It is given away free: nothing is sold at Mama Rosa's. Devotional objects and souvenirs are on sale in the few shops in the village.
A white statue of the Blessed Virgin sat with inviting demeanour, a rose in each hand, framed with flowers, behind an iron grille on a stone plinth, locked up like a rare animal in the zoo. To the right was a pew, behind it a 'cloister'. Figures in a plastic tunnel represented the Stations of the Cross. Here and in front of the statue pilgrims knelt on the cement floor, their faces turned to the grille.
A farm woman in a shapeless dress met me. She was about fifty years old. Judging by the photographs I have seen, she could be Mama Rosa's sister.
I addressed her: 'Excusa, signora ... I have come all the way from Switzerland to ask Mama Rosa a few questions.' 'No, no! That's not possible. Mama Rosa has to pray now.' 'It doesn't matter, I'll wait an hour or two or come back in the morning. I'm a writer and I'm interested in visions of the kind Mama Rosa ...' In a fury she literally spouted at me: 'Mama Rosa cannot talk to you, she's ill, she's really ill ...'
I was persistent For a fraction of a second the idea flashed into my head of trying a few lira notes, which open the thickest doors elsewhere in Italy. I did not do so; after all I am at a miraculous spot.
But - I am getting no further.
Before I went there, I knew from publications [23] what was supposed to happen at San Damiano and what made Mama Rosa a magnet for believers in miracles.
On 29th September, 1961 Mrs. Rosa Quattrini was doubled up with pain in her bed. She was due to have a hernia operation on the following day. She had already had three children by Caesarean operations. The eldest was studying at the seminary at Piacenza, the little ones were looked after by Aunt Adele.
Money was always scarce in the house. On that particular day they had scraped together 1, 000 lire to take to the hospital. Aunt Adele was cooking a meagre repast in the kitchen when a young lady knocked at the door. She asked for a generous gift for the Church of Santa Maria della Grazia in San Giovanni Rotondo where miracle-working Father Pio was active. Aunt Adele, to whom money was as
'sacred' as it is to all poor people, asked Rosa what she should say to the suppliant. Rosa spontaneously handed over half the money, the stranger approached the sick woman to thank her and encouraged her to stand up. Finally she pulled Mrs. Quattrini gently out of bed: 'My daughter, you are cured!' The pain seemed to vanish as if by magic. The operation did not take place.
The young lady recommended Mrs. Rosa to visit Father Pio. Having recovered in this miraculous way, she travelled to San Giovanni Rotondo where Father Pio, to whom long-distance cures were also attributed, advised her to start caring for the sick, as far as her family duties allowed her.
For three years life on the farm at San Damiano followed its usual course.
On 16th October, 1964 Mrs. Quattrini was talking to a neighbour in the orchard. Both ladies 'suddenly'
- how could it be otherwise? - noticed a strange little cloud, like a veil of mist, enveloping the branches of the plum tree. Then the remarkable shape floated over to the pear tree and there a radiantly bright female figure with the two obligatory roses in her, hand and a crown on her head showed herself in the cloud, which seemed to solidify. The lady threatened: 'I have come to admonish the world to pray, for the Day of Judgment is at hand!' The crafty Rosa asked: 'How will anybody believe a poor woman like me?' The Madonna answered distinctly: 'Fear not, I shall give a sign. I shall make the pear tree blossom!' The vision faded.
In October the tree still bore a basketful of ripe pears, but -as far as anyone could see - not a single flower bud. And yet the tree blossomed; not slowly, but - as eyewitnesses claimed to have seen - from one minute to the next. The miracle was repeated on the following day on the damson tree.
Since the trees flowered in that autumn, visions have never ceased for Rosa Quattrini. Nearly every Thursday Mama Rosa speaks to the Blessed Virgin and receives instructions and messages, communications for specific persons and threats for those who are not of the right faith.
I strolled through the orchard and the courtyard. From a window of the farmhouse came the noise of prayer: 'Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb! Two French priests in full ceremonials knelt in front of the grille guarding the statue of Mary.
Mama Rosa does not make things easy for Rome. The messages ostensibly received from Mary are contradictory, naive often tyrannical and sometimes larded with harsh threats. The records prove that all her loquacious chatter could scarcely arise from contact with any kind of divine inspiration.
Nevertheless, miraculous cures take place at San Damiano, so it is said. Hundreds of witnesses have experienced two solar miracles there.
The Church still remains aloof. On 16/17th November, 1970 the Osservatore Romano published an announcement by the Bishop of Piacenza: The ostensible messages, visions and miracles have no connection with the supernatural... Rosa Quattrini has daily and publicly refused to obey her bishop. We hereby formally advise Rosa Quattrini that we are forced to deny her the sacraments, as well as access to the church ... The Priest Edgardo Pellacini, former Parish priest of San Damiano, received in his decree of removal from office approved by the Holy See the formal charge not to concern himself further with the so-called 'happenings at San Damiano' ... In addition we warn all other members of the church and responsible persons... both priests and laymen... against spreading reports of ostensible visions of the Blessed Virgin and messages from her and organizing journeys to the spot ... otherwise we are forced to forbid them access to the Church and the sacraments. Disobedient priests are further threatened with suspension a divinis.
A slim young Capuchin monk in a brown soutane with a white cord round his waist was strolling round the yard. I had been watching him for hours and he smiled at me.
The hypnotic sound of Ave Maria being recited was everywhere: 'Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. '
I spoke to the Capuchin. I was still hoping to have an interview with Mama Rosa. Perhaps the pious man could help me: he behaved as if he was at home here. 'No, you cannot see Mrs. Quattrini, she has to pray. What paper do you write for? What did you say your name was? ... No, no one can visit her, she doesn't receive anyone, she is talking to the Madonna.' 'Rome,' I said, 'is very obviously keeping its distance from San Damiano.' The Capuchin shrugged his shoulders, as if to say: 'Of course, but ...' He meant that that was the normal attitude the church would adopt; when all is said and done they would have to wait - for years or decades.
In that case what was the ecclesiastical observer doing here? I had been watching him for hours. From whom or what was he supposed to be protecting the old lady, who he said was talking to Mary? She was closely guarded.... When I finally gave up, I heard again the monotonous praying which hung over the courtyard like an enervating curtain of noise. Without a break. 'Who arose from the dead - who ascended into heaven - who sent us the Holy Ghost ...'