Who is Teresa Neumann? by Charles Mortimer Carty

Author:Charles Mortimer Carty [Carty, Charles Mortimer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: TAN Books
Published: 2016-03-29T06:00:00+00:00

Discovery of the Stigmata by her Parents

"My most faithful ally had so far been my sister Zenzl. I could rely absolutely on her for not telling anyone. So I now said to her, 'You know how anxious Mother is when anything is the matter. Wash me all over without her seeing.' My sister quickly complied, without annoying me with a lot of questions about it all.

"To make the blood-stains a little less noticeable, I wore a large black shawl round my shoulders. My parents just thought that this was on account of the cold. One day my mother told me I ought not to wear the black shawl, saying: 'You look an old grandmother in it,' and took it away. But I begged so earnestly for it that she gave it back the next day.

"Finally, on Maundy Thursday, my father asked what was wrong with me. Again I saw Our Saviour on the Mount of Olives, and by evening my side was again bleeding. My father happened to see me take off a dressing once and I asked him for another piece. When he gave me this, I asked him for a larger one. He noticed how carefully I folded it in eight and then tucked it down out of sight. I tried to hide the old piece from him in the bed. I was rather helpless in my weak state and my father noticed it all the same. And so the secret I had so carefully tried to keep was discovered. He found the linen soaked with blood and showed it to my mother. Thus, on Maundy Thursday, my parents knew of the strange haemorrhage from my side, even if they did not clearly understand what it meant.

"But on Good Friday, when I was in an ecstasy and unconscious of my surroundings, the blood flowed so copiously that the linen could no longer absorb it and it soaked through my bed-jacket. Everybody, too, could see now the blood which streamed from my eyes flooding my face. Now my parents began to suspect what was the matter with me, but could scarcely believe their eyes. So far, they knew nothing of the wounds on my hands and feet, for these had appeared for the first time that day. I do not know exactly when they did come. They were simply there on Good Friday evening.

"Nor did I know beforehand that I was to have these wounds, too. During the vision I had no inkling of them, for then I could not think about myself, but just gazed up the whole time at Our Saviour.

"The five wounds hurt me constantly, although I have already become accustomed to pain. It is as though something is penetrating into my hands and feet. The wound in the side seems to be really one in the heart. I feel it at every word I utter. If I draw a deep breath when speaking forcibly or hurrying, I feel a stabbing pain in my heart. If I keep quiet, I don't notice this.

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