The Miracle of the Images. Welby Thomas Cox, Jr.
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in the sausage. The coffee filled the mugs with steaming darkness and a small pitcher of cream, which had been separated from the milk in the dairy processing on the farm sat nearby.
The table with its farm fresh goodness on display was accentuated by two large freshly cut bouquets of red roses. The table took on the appearance of Thanksgiving...a celebration of the harvest and the bounty of God's own land.
Father Tim expressed his gratitude to Aldo for the peaceful night after such a beautiful meal and evening. He complemented him as well for the feast they were about to partake and then the bell to the front door rang. Monsignor Voght jumped noticeably. Aldo went to the door and there stood Father Francis as though he had been orphaned. Aldo invited the good priest into the hallway and lead him down the hall to the dinning room where the other two priests were sitting waiting patiently for the host to say the blessing.
"Father Francis has come to say the blessing of the meal and the day." Aldo laughed.
"Father Francis, I'll set you a plate as you prepare." Aldo withdrew to the kitchen and returned with a setting of china and cutlery.
Father Francis said the grace and then he read a short passage from his Marian Missal, after which the priest filled their plates with the morning morsels of goodness from down on the farm.
"Aldo, I have said it before...we are going to abduct and carry you back to the Vatican as the personal cook for his Holy Father." Father Tim laughed as he commented.
"Well we've only just elected the Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI and it would be wonderful to think that his reign will be as long as that of his Holiness Pope John Paul II but, I doubt a diet containing all of this goodness would be in his healthy best interest." Father Francis smiled.
"Interestingly," Aldo chimed in, "All of the items which you see here are natural including the preserves...with the exception of the spices there are no additives and it is a fact that my parents, the great parents and the great, great parents who were all products of this farm and this life lived well into their respective nineties. Well above the mortuary table of the expectation of the life table set by the actuaries."
"Now Monsignor Voght, you seem to be a bit under the weather." Aldo said, "You have touched very little of your breakfast...perhaps I could get you a bowl of cereal or perhaps some very nice oatmeal."
"Thank you no, Aldo...but I am well...its just that something happened to me in the night...I think...perhaps a visitor. I am not at all certain if it was a dream brought on by the exhaustion of the trip, the food and the wine but after I had fallen asleep, I was awaken by the wind whipping through the drapes and the rocking of the bed. Then a strobe light pierced the frame of the door and the cracks as well. I went to the door, opened it and knelt before the light but nothing happened...I held the crucifix in my hand and prayed but no one appeared. Then as quickly as it had commenced all the elements including the light disappeared.
I knelt through the rest of the night. I do not know how long this took place. I was unable to get up because my weight had settled into my knees and I seemed paralyzed...attached to the floor. I was finally able to sit down and then to rollover on my side and begin to flex the joints of my knees. Throughout the experience my entire body seemed to be energized by an electric field which caused the hair on my body to stand on end." He said.
The Monsignor lifted his hand to give testimony to the condition and the hair on his knuckles was standing as though someone was holding a comb filled with electrical current over it. The hair waved and danced with the motion...and the emotion of a morning, which had started with so much promise and now played out a moment which none of the participants could explain. Something had indeed transpired but none where prepared to attempt an explanation...after all this was a Monsignor... a man of the clothe...a man not given to hyperbole...an educated, grounded man of God whose life had stopped in this small agricultural community one thousand miles from where he had been born to Irish immigrants in the south of Boston.
Now... the others knew that Monsignor Voght was in charge...that the lady had come in the night and taken him to the mat...but had it been a dream...was it a manifestation of the trip and the aura surrounding the reason for the visit? They had been effectively taken out of their game...how do you fashion a new defense or offense after your star player has been neutralized? How could they now return to the Vatican with a report that confirmed the evidentiary existence of a phenomenon without and before the portrait had even been examined? Surely it would make the case for bringing Aldo back with them...along with the portrait?
V. A PASSPORT FOR ALDO
Father Tim spoke up... In view of the paranormal visit experienced by The Monsignor...it seems to me that we are now entitled to view the portrait!"
"Forgive me Father, but in all due respect to you and Monsignor Voght there are two constants in my life...first, I deliver the portrait to the Holy Father. Second, I do not relate this event to anyone. I am happy to go back to Rome with you with the Portrait in tow. But in order to do so, there are several matters, which must be taken care of.
Number 1. I need a Passport from Vatican City. I don't know if this is a Diplomatic Passport or some other type but I must receive this passport enabling me to travel as a citizen of Vatican City, Italy.
Number 2. You will have to make me a Diplomatic Courier in order to carry the portrait on board a commercial flight or you will have to schedule a flight aboard a private aircraft so that I will not have to clear customs.
Number 3. I will be unable to stay at Vatican City all the time. I will have to come back to the US in order to run my farm but I have been praying to this portrait for fifty years and I do not expect that to stop altogether. I want access to the portrait for the purpose of paying my respects.
Number 4. I expect to pay all the expense related to the visit including the private charter if I must take one.
Those are my wish list as I see them. I am a wealthy man so I do not seek your support and I plan to donate the portrait to the Catholic Church." Aldo said.
"Well that is a major wish list...most especially the passport." Father Tim said.
"Again respectfully, these are not surprises, I outlined my requirements carefully in my letter to the Vatican, in no uncertain teinis, and I told the Holy Father that I would not show or deliver the portrait to anyone but his Holiness. Not because I want to be difficult, but because this was the command made of me by the angel. So I don't mean to be rude, but you have come a long way to Ohio to change the game in Rome."
"When could you travel? The Monsignor asked. "Tomorrow." Aldo said.
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The next few days were filled with communications via the fax in Aldo's farm office from Father Tim. They had returned safely to Rome and all the processes where now going forward including the application forms for the passport. Aldo had official passport photographs taken at FedEx Kinko and dispatched them via overnight with the application to Father Tim in Rome. It felt extremely freeing to send the application without any sense of guilt or any lies as to his former existence. He was simply Aldo Selleri, sixty-seven year old Italian seeking citizenship in Vatican City, Italy.
A communique' from the Sala Stampa della Santa Sede, the press office of the Holy See was received via fax at Aldo's office at 4:00 am. Of course it was now 10:00 am in Rome so there was great effort being made as though the rest of the world operated on the same clock as the Holy See. Aldo heard the fax and went to see who could possibly be operating at this hour. He was shocked to see the communique', knowing that he had specifically informed both priest, that he would not be available ...ever for a meeting with the press. Surely they had heard him and did not misunderstand. He read the note and it was a rather innocuous request for bonefides.
Aldo scrolled a remark on the communication sending it back to Father Tim... "How do these people know who I am, and how did they get my fax number...did you not understand that I will not meet with the press?"
One thing was certain from Aldo's point of view...someone was pulling some mighty long strings and they were pulling them quickly. At this rate Aldo felt