Fulton Sheen said, “The rosary is the book of the blind, where souls see and there enact the greatest drama of love the world has ever known; it is the book of the simple, which initiates them into mysteries and knowledge more satisfying than the education of other men; it is the book of the aged, whose eyes close upon the shadow of this world, and open on the substance of the next. The power of the rosary is beyond description.”
Sofia and the Hall of Apparitions.
BY Mary Pearson
COPYRIGHT 2013 MARY PEARSON
Chapter 1
Sofia Sherman was a dancer. She had been dancing in the ballet since she was three years old and tonight there had been a special Nutcracker performance in the basement of Cathedral. After the show there were petit fours and punch and when they were finally ready to go home they were practically the last to leave. Her whole family was already in the parking lot when she realized she had left her slippers behind. “I need to get them before the doors are locked!”
“Be quick,” her mother said.
The lights on the stairwell had already been turned off so she clicked them on before making her way back down. On the landing there was a little door she had never noticed before, which was odd. She had gone to church here her whole life. Above the door there was a faded bronze marker, which read. HA. “Ha,” she said aloud. “That’s funny.” Then she had a very faint memory that it was something more than just funny. It was significant.
She reached for the knob and turned it.
(Three days earlier)
“See you tomorrow!” Anna waved.
“Right.” Sofia hoisted her backpack over one shoulder. “Don’t forget we have practice.”
“I’ll take your bags for you!” There was a little disabled man named Oscar who rode his big tricycle through the town. He found the girls from Sophia’s ballet class very charming and he often offered to carry their heavy bags. Anna looked annoyed as she hopped into her mother’s car. But Sofia smiled and handed him her bag. “Can you leave it on my grandfather’s porch?”
Oscar saluted and headed off with her pack and about five others. Sofia and Anna had been best friends since they had met in preschool -- right here at Cathedral. It was where they still attended school, now in the fifth grade. They also danced together in the ballet school which was putting on The Nutcracker. Three more days. Sofia shivered, not from the cold, although it was always cold here. She started the ten block trek home, waiting for Ruth, the elderly crossing guard, to walk her across the busy street. Of course she would stop at Grampa’s midway. Mom had made his favorite cookies. They were in her back pack.
Sofia and her grandfather had always been close. Now in his upper eighties he was sometimes lucid, sometimes genius eccentric- that’s how Sofia saw him. He had taught her everything she knew about the faith and her mother warned her that some of what he said was a bit fringy-- stuff you didn’t have to believe, even though it was one hundred percent true. All of it really did happen. Stuff like incorruptible saints-- Saints whose bodies didn’t decay even after they had been dead for centuries. Among these were Saint Bernadette of Lourdes, France and Jacinta from Fatima, Portugal. According to tradition, Saint Cecilia was still incorrupt when they exhumed her body fifteen centuries after she had died during the 100’s AD. She had one finger up on one hand to show one God, three fingers on the other to show He was three persons: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. She was a martyr, which means she died for the Faith.
Grabbing her backpack, Sofia knocked twice and threw open the door, running in to give Grampa a hug. “Here,” she said, handing him the little Tupperware of soft jam thumbprints her mother had packed for him. “What’s new?” She peered around him at the computer screen. Grandpa Jack was always on the computer looking up obscure religious facts.
“Nothing under the sun.” He logged out and turned to face his favorite grandchild. “How many did she send?” he asked greedily.
“A dozen.”
“Hide them from Marjorie.” Marjorie was his housekeeper/ PCA. He tucked them out of sight under his lap blanket. “She’s always on me about how I eat. I figure,” he winked at Sofia, “if I’m still alive I must be doing something right. Now, how was school?”
“I gave my Padre Pio presentation.”
“How did that go?”
“Zach said he was weird.”
“Zach is probably weird.”
Sofia sighed. “That’s what I said and I almost got detention.”
Then there was a short silent commiseration. It was broken by her grandfather’s sharp intake of breath. He stared fixedly at the empty chair in the corner of the room. Grandpa Jack’s face grew white. “He’s here,” he said after a startled pause.
“Who?” To Sofia the chair appeared to be empty.
Her grandfather’s icy blue eyes flashed to meet her own. “Her bane.”
Chapter 2
After this episode Grandpa Jack had ushered her along pretty quickly. He was muttering something about how he needed to start a novena of novena’s. The wind had picked up a bit since school and Sofia tied her scarf over her mouth. Wind chimes tinkled amidst the Christmas decorations on the blocks which separated her house from that of her grandparents.
She remembered taking “the big walk” with her uncle when she was a little girl and how the few blocks had seemed like a great adventure at that time. She used to count the houses as they walked, had memorized the little changes. Out of habit she now registered them: the new deck on the Nelson’s; the garage at the Johnson’s had been painted; of course the old Blom house was in disarray, the lawn needed mowing - as it had been for years. But, wait-- there was a light on in the back. This was something different. Sofia stopped and stared at it for a moment. Fear seeped in as she stood there and with a great shiver she turned her back to the Blom house and continued into the wind. She needed to hurry. It always got dark so early in mid December.
Later, as she lay on the couch waiting for her mother to call her for dinner, she daydreamed. She gazed at the sunset painting on her living room wall. It was a landscape of a tree house which her mother’s friend had painted when they were in college. The house itself seemed abandoned, vines draping gracefully and weathered grey boards in a state of disrepair. The sky in the picture was orangey pink. Sofia had always loved the cotton candy clouds in the background and the misty paths surrounding the house. Suddenly she was startled in her comfortable musings by a slithering movement amongst the brush. Sofia blinked and looked again. Nothing. Of course she must have been imagining things.
Chapter 3
Those two incidents were the only premonitions she had had, the only inkling that something out of the ordinary was about to take place. She stared for a moment again at the little bronze marker which read HA. Hall of Apparitions popped into her head. From where…?
Too curious to resist she turned the doorknob and crouching down she entered a long dark hallway. At the far end there was a soft blue glow. Sofia closed the door behind her and walked toward the light.
Our Lady of the Pillar
Sofia made her way toward the light, dimly aware that she was passing darkened niches which contained other statues like the life-size one she was approaching. The statue was of a beautiful lady dressed in a flowing white garment, cinched at the waist, and with a blue cloak veiling her hair. She was standing on a thick pillar, and Sofia knew it must be Mary because she was holding the Christ child. There were three angels to each side of Mary and these were supporting the pillar on which she was standing. There was a very faint hum, maybe it came from the blue light. Sofia looked at the metal marker in front of the statue. There were words. Sofia read them
aloud:
“Our Lady of the Pillar.” She took a deep breath to still her heart, which was pounding in her ears, and continued, “This first Marian apparition occurred during the lifetime of the Virgin Mary. She appeared to Saint James--” Suddenly there was a vaguely familiar wrenching feeling and dizziness, whirling… When the world stopped spinning Sofia found herself bathed in sunlight beside a flowing river facing a large man who was slumped on the ground, his head in his hands. Sofia blinked as he looked up at her hopefully.
“Are you the answer to my prayer?” he asked.
Chapter 4
Sofia cleared her throat. “I highly doubt it.” Then, realizing that her words might seem a bit harsh, “What were you praying for?”
“Success.” The big man sighed and got to his feet. Then, stooping to the river he cupped his hands and splashed his face with water. Turning to face Sofia, he said, “I fear I am failing the Lord. No one will listen to me and now I have angered Agrippa for saying that Jesus is God. He seeks my life. So I was praying that God would send me a Legion of angels to make them believe and, instead, He sends one small wingless one.”
“I’m not an angel.” Sofia realized her ballerina outfit might make him think she was. “I’m Sofia.” She held her hand to him.
“Wisdom, then. The good Lord has sent me a small wingless angel called “wisdom” “. James shook his head as he regarded her from his great height.
Sofia shrugged and sat beside him. Her mother had told her that the meaning of her name was wisdom, but she had never felt particularly wise.
Fortunately she was not required to demonstrate this as, at that moment, the air began to shimmer and the Blessed Virgin standing upon a pillar of jasper and surrounded by a multitude of angels appeared before the big man and little girl. If you have never experienced an apparition you will not be able to understand how awesome this sort of occurrence can be. It is as though the world as we know it is suddenly suspended and Heaven takes over for a time which can be short or long, but which seems like forever and no time at all. In this case a pillar suddenly was lowered from the sky by the Legions of angels Saint James had requested and atop the pillar was the Lady, no longer a statue, and she was carrying the Baby Jesus in her arms.
“James,” she said, and when she smiled at him Sofia thought she had never seen anyone more beautiful. “So the people of this land will not believe…? We must give them something to make them know the Savior of the world has come to free all peoples. Build a chapel here and they will come.” Then she and the angels vanished, leaving behind the pillar with a wooden image of herself bearing the infant Jesus in her left hand. The statue was exquisite-- no artist would have been proficient enough to create such a piece. And it was solid, the pillar enormous. How could such a thing have come to be here in the blink of an eye?
Before Sofia could say another word the air began to shimmer again and she felt herself being wrenched back through time and space. As she traveled she was aware of something slithering in the darkness which surrounded her. She felt it trying to wrap around her but it lost its grip as her body became more solid. She landed in the blue humming circle of light. Sofia was so shaken she backed down the hallway, unwilling to turn her back on the glowing statue, lest the snake thing should be there as well. Just as she touched the door handle the blue light and its humming ceased. Stooping, she scrambled through the little doorway and ran to grab her slippers from the hall. She dashed up the stairs at top speed, her neck prickling with the certainty that it was just behind her.
“What’s wrong?” her mother asked when Sofia hopped in the car and slammed the door.
“Nothing.” Sofia’s look dared her parents to say another thing. “Drive,” she said, glancing furtively back at the church. Then, remembering her manners, “please…?” It came out as a squeak.
Her father looked like he wanted to question her but apparently he decided now was not the best time. He put the car into drive.
Chapter 5
“What was that all about?” Sofia’s sister, Emily, shared a room with her. They were sometimes close, sometimes fought, as is normal for siblings. Emily was nine and right now Sofia wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. At least not with Em. So she said nothing, shook her head and pursed her lips. Then she turned her back to her sister and pulled the blanket over her head.
***
The next day was Sunday and, although the events of the previous evening still hung over her like a cloud, the light of day took the edge off her feelings of foreboding.
She attended Mass with the rest of her family, afterwards pausing to chat with Lily, Molly and the Gonkers, her cousins.
“Did you see the visitors that were sitting by us?” Molly kept her voice low.
Sofia shrugged. “There are always visitors here. It’s a Cathedral.”
Molly exchanged a look with her older sister, Lily. “Not like these. They wore all black--”
“Like witches!” their little sister, Maggie piped in, and both girls shushed her.
Molly’s eyes were big. “They wouldn’t shake our hands at peace time,” was all she said.
Lucien gave her a playful shove. “Neither would I. Does that make me a witch?” He cackled impressively. The Gonkers had seven children in their family. They lived in the country and were home-schooled, so other than at Mass and family parties Sofia rarely got to see them. She sometimes wished her parents had had more children. Chaotic fun. She always enjoyed talking to them.
The person she really wanted to talk with was her grandfather, but he wasn’t up to church that morning, so she would have to wait until after school the next day to see him.
She did make a point of checking out the little closet under the stairs at Cathedral during lunch the next day. There was no marker above the door-- nothing that read HA-- and when her classmate, Joey missed the wastebasket with his leftover spaghetti the janitor thrust open the door to reveal only brooms and mops. Sofia breathed out. Maybe she had imagined the whole thing. People said she was imaginative. She chewed the inside of her mouth nervously. “Do I seem normal to you?” she asked Anna.
“Not at all.” Anna grinned and squashed her milk carton, placing it on her tray. “You done yet?”
Sofia nodded. In truth she couldn’t wait to get out of that room, get through with the day and stop to see Grampa, the only person she felt comfortable telling about what had happened.
Chapter 6
“Oh, it’s real,” Grampa Jack assured her. He typed into his computer and brought up the image of the six foot pillar with the nearly four foot statue atop it. “Says here some people say this is the original statue,” he met her eyes with his sharp blue ones. “Some say it’s a replica, the first having been destroyed during a fire in the fifth century. Did it look like this?”
Sofia nodded. “Not as yellow, though.” She paused before continuing, “What about that snake thing?”
“The ancient Serpent. For that we need the Bible. He quoted Gensis 3:15, “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; she will crush your head, and you will strike at her heel.” He shut the computer down and continued in a confidential whisper, “Once upon a time he was Lucifer, the greatest of all the angels, one of the Burning Ones-- the Seraphim, who stand always in the presence of God. But then he sinned greatly.” Grandpa Jack put a hand on Sofia’s shoulder and looked her in the eyes. “Now what do you suppose is the greatest sin?”
“I don’t know… Maybe lying or some kind of cheating…?”
“Pride.” He paused to let this sink in. “Lucifer was very beautiful and he knew it. Came a time he saw no reason to obey God because he thought he was more beautiful than God and knew more. Pride!” Grandpa spat the word out with disgust, before continuing, “There was a great battle and a lowly archangel named Michael overthrew Lucifer and the other angels who sided with him, and he cast them down to earth to tempt mankind.” He was silent for a moment before he spoke again. “You kn
ow where archangels fall in the ranks of the nine choirs of angels?”
Sofia shook her head.
“Second from the bottom.” Grandpa Jack went on, “Michael was nothing, and he knew it. Now he is the greatest of all the angels. I’m going to give you his prayer.” Grandpa Jack fished around in the computer drawer and found a holy card with a picture of St. Michael in all his regalia, and he gave it to his granddaughter. “This prayer is very powerful. Seems to me you might need it.”
Chapter 7
St. Dominic and the rosary dream-- 1215
For the next week Sofia prayed the Saint Michael prayer every night before she went to sleep. She kept the little card under her pillow. A couple of nights she fell asleep reciting the prayer and woke in the wee hours, her lips still mumbling the powerful words. When nothing weird happened she gradually fell off. She even stopped glancing at the little closet ten times a day, expecting the HA marker to have reappeared.
But she had a dream.
It was a very vivid dream. She was a little girl and she was at a sleepover in the Gonkers recreational yurt in the country. There was a chest filled with treasures. There was a story to go with each treasure. And then, feeling like she had stepped into the pages of Peter Pan or something, they all held hands and read from a book. There was dizziness and then she was in a big hall with the Apostles and saints Father Andrew always talked about in church. She couldn’t say anything, she was so overwhelmed by the people and the strangeness. And they were all huddled together praying when there came a great wind and the wind deposited flames over the heads of everyone in the room, and then she couldn’t help speaking. They were all talking about God and Jesus when the wind swept them up and deposited them back on the Gonkers’ land. Then her parents came and they were very upset and everyone drove in to Mass. And the dream ended and Sofia woke up.
And she knew that it wasn’t a dream.
Chapter 8
“We’re out of little plates.” There was a steady stream of people lined up all the way to the back of the Cathedral Hall. Sofia’s mother, Jacinta, bit her lip and found her daughter with her eyes. “Do you mind…? Two sleeves should be enough.”
Sofia got up from the table where she had been sitting with her many cousins and headed toward the darkened hallway where the supplies were kept. Her family had been helping out with Sunday morning hospitality for decades. It had started while her grandmother was still alive and had continued after her death as a legacy to the parish. Grandma had been famous for her caramel rolls. It would have been a shame for Cathedral to lose them so her mother and some of the aunts shared the chore of baking them once a month. As she passed by the little cupboard Sofia couldn’t help but glance. Her heart almost stopped when she saw the bronze marker that read HA had reappeared. She was frozen in place when her cousin, Brody gave her a friendly tap. “Sometime this year…?”