her. The mind, Aldo is capable of working amazing feats." I said.
"No Father...it wasn't my Mother who visited on that night. This was a quite tall woman and she was elevated in the doorway.. .standing on air." He said.
"So when did you next see the lady?" I asked
"A few weeks later on the feast day of the Assumption, August 15, 1955, she came to me just after I had gone to sleep. It happened in the same manner...but this time I wasn't afraid. I opened the door to the same brilliance and she stood on air looking down on me. I told her that I was so very sorry for being so rude and frightened. She did not speak but left me with a feeling of peace and warmth. I asked her what she wanted of me. She did not speak but transmitted her thoughts that she wanted me to paint a simple portrait of the Holy Family.
A portrait, not so unique, with the virgin and child, sitting on a burro, and Joseph leading the beast of burden. I asked if there was any special design that she had in mind and again, without speaking she told me quite specifically that the design was only to be simple... to incorporate the elements of the three family figures and the burro. Then I asked her the most essential question, from the prospective of the artist... "How will I know to apply the paint to the facial features, and the color of the family?" He said.
"Then she made the most amazing statement... she said that I was to leave the faces blank and, she said in fifty years from this date , the faces of Mary and Joseph would be revealed in the painting. Fifty years thereafter, the face of the infant would be revealed." He said.
"She also told me that the painting was to be given to the Holy Father in Rome on the fiftieth anniversary of the visitation and after the miracle transformation had occurred." He said.
"So Aldo...the first miracle..." my voice trailed and Aldo continued.
"Yes, the first miracle occurred on the feast of the Assumption, August 15, 2005. I did not go to bed. I knelt before the painting and prayed the rosary. Sometime just as the sun rose to the east, slicing and penetrating my dark room...I watched in abstract awe the miracle take place on the canvass. First Saint Joseph's features took shape as he peered at me from the front of the burro. He had a definitive and piercing look, as though he was asking a question...perhaps...who are you and what do you want of my family?" He said.
Blessed be God in heaven, I thought.
"Then just as simply, the face of the Holy Mother, began to look out at me from the veil which draped her head and shoulders. It was a face, which... in no way, looked anything like what we have come to believe the Holy Mother looks like. She appears more weary...travel worn...much older than any painting by the Masters. Not so flattering, but calming, reverent as she holds the Christ child to her breast in a protective manner."
"So Aldo, in 2005 you are sixty-seven years of age.. .and in 2055...should you live you will be one hundred seventeen years of age?" I said.
"I do not expect to live to see the second miracle...this is why I have been directed to deliver the painting to the Vatican and to the Holy Father in Rome." He said.
"Now Aldo, what do your parents think of the painting and the miracle?" I asked.
"They do not know of the miracle, nor have they seen the painting." He said.
"Why were you chosen?" I asked.
"Good question...and one I asked of the lady. She said that I was asked to do the painting because of my daily reverence to the Blessed Mother and the Holy Family. She also informed me that my prayers would be answered by the Holy Father in Rome as to my origins and my place in the world. She very specifically cautioned me not to disclose the miracle nor the potential of it until after the event occurred, and then to give the portrait only to the Holy Father." He said.
"Well Aldo, practically speaking...you know that it is highly unlikely that you will be able to personally deliver this portrait to the Holy Father." I said.
"I am confident that the will of the Blessed Mother will be done." He said.
"Are you prepared Aldo, for the thorough investigation by the Vatican of yourself and the portrait?" I asked.
"Certainly, I am willing to be forthcoming at the appropriate time and place."
"And where might that be, Aldo?" I inquired.
"Only in Rome before the Holy Father as requested." He said.
The heat of the late afternoon felt penetrating against Father Francis's light shirt. Aldo Selleri's confession had lasted nearly five hours. Notre Dame had long since spoiled the Spartan fans thirst for Irish blood and Father Francis felt the need to walk about while considering the confession of Aldo Selleri. There was no doubt Aldo truly believed that he had been the instrument of a miracle.. Father Francis knew as well that the mind was more powerful than any muscle a man could muster...he even suspected that it was capable, in a paranormal situation, of even the creation of conditions to paint the faces of a family portrait.
But how do you explain this phenomenon. A grown man swears before God that he witnessed the creation of a face on a canvass. Well Father Francis knew one thing for certain...the Vatican team of experts would descend upon Selleri like locust and before he was capable of uttering Blessed Mother, Selleri would be martinized to the point that he may never again be recognized. Father Francis had not been a witness to the exorcisms carried out by the Vatican sponsored teams but if there was a devil in Aldo Selleri...he would soon have to find a new home.
Poor Aldo, Father Francis thought...going through his entire life without the identification necessary to have a full life. No birth certificate, no driver's license, no passport...each of these items so essential to a life. A life, which had precluded marriage and children for Aldo. Father Francis could not help thinking that this was a criminal act on the part of Aldo's adoptive parents. There was no way that the child would have been removed from their home if they had only performed their duty to this child, and then he would have had the opportunity to a full and lasting life as any American.
But then these are the lengths to which some women are driven in the madness to have children. Nothing matters but to possess the heart, mind and soul of the child regardless of suitability to raise one.
Of course these were the forties and fifties and life took on a decidedly different look and feel. The era of McCarthyism...Better Dead than Red. Everyone in the country was suspicious of any activity or of anyone who exhibited the slightest tendency to be different. Different... was not a good thing... and Aldo's adoptive parents saw to it that he carried the mantle of different...like the scarlet letter, except this one would have been inscribed 'weird'.
Good thing there was plenty to do out on the farm. Aldo stayed busy through the morning and in the afternoon he took classes in English, reading, writing, math, history of the world or American history. Later, he would stay busy with Geometry, Algebra, Trigonometry, Latin, and Spanish...more than a full course and well taught at that.
But as prepared as was Aldo in the world of book sense, he was void of social skills. Nearly backward as though he and his family were members of one of the Amish families but at least as rudimentary as was the social interaction of these sects...there was some social function, Aldo had none of that.
After a fashion, Aldo's family did begin to take him to Mass when he approached the age for the beginning of the sacraments. Confession in those days was a grueling event for most children. Standing in line for your turn to enter the dark confessional and then to hear the sliding partition between the Penitent and the Priest...certain that the person on the other side was straining
