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To the far horizons of the world
La Salette is not a household name, but you hear it preached in Bolivia and the Philippines, in Angola and Madagascar in southernmost India and in Poland, in Byelorussia and in Indonesia. And in a small alpine village, where it was first heard.
Two Congregations bear the name of La Salette. Some others are linked to it. All over the world, pilgrims, saints, writers have sung its praises and continue to make it known: Salette, SaleUnski, Saleta, Saleuner... You can see it over school entrances, in parishes, spiritual centers and cooperatives; at shelters for lepers and their families; You see it in humble places where the handicapped work, and you see it at high mountain shrines.
An unknown village
Before the apparition La Salette was an unknown hamlet lost in one of those giant crevices of the French Alps. A dozen similar tiny villages clung to the low regions of a ring of mountains that rise over seven thousand feet. Spring torrents rushing down these heights run through dark, winding passes and exit below the market town of Corps, where the highway junction joins it to the rest of the world. No one could have seen fame in the offing.
On September 19, 1846, two shepherds, a boy and a girl, each urging on their four cows, climb the barren slopes that rise above the village of La Salette. After an uneventful morning, they meet within this solitude a woman more beautiful than creation; she appears within a light that is brighter than the sun.
Through her tears she converses with them. She finished her discourse and, having climbed a narrow path, disappeared in her halo of light. That evening the children speak of this to their respective employers, and the very next morning rumors are running.The young boy, Maximin Giraud, skittish and carefree, is eleven years old and has replaced a sick shepherd that week. Melanie Calvat is nearing fifteen years of age. for five years she has been performing odd jobs in the neighboring farms; she is timid and withdrawn. Simply, but with great precision, the two children answer the questions put to them. Their testimonies agree. The whole world takes hold of their story: the curious, the believers, the official investigators and the journalists, religious and civil authorities.Detractors attack it, visionaries hallucinate over it, creating serious and lasting delusions. Missionaries and pilgrims will make this echo of the Good News known to all the world.
Who is it?
After five years of detailed and rigorous inquiry, the Church attests to the reality of the event and recognizes "the Beautiful Lady": she is Mary the mother of Jesus, she who has been missioned at the foot of the cross to be the mother of all those who search and doubt, who journey in faith. Always present to her children, she comes to warm their hearts, challenge consciences in the face of a godless world, a world without justice and without love. With vigor and with tenderness, she raises us up and puts us on the road together, on the path of her Son Jesus.
The story told by Maximin Giraud and Melanie Calvat travelled everywhere and profoundly touched a world in need of reconciliation. To all those who are or should be thirsting for justice, it points to the Gospel fount of living water.
Here is the story the children told the world.
A day in Autumn
In mid-September, 1846, Pierre Selme, a peasant of the Ablandins had to find a boy to replace his shepherd who had become ill. He sought out Giraud the wheelwright in Corps and tells him, "Let me have your little Maximin for a few days..." "Memin, a shepherd? he is too much of a scatterbrain!" replied Giraud. There is some give and take between the two, and on September 14, Maximin walked to the Ablandins. On the 17th he saw Melanie there. On the 18th, they are watching their flocks in a communal pasture around Mont Planeau.That afternoon, Maximin made an attempt at conversation with the silent Melanie. They discover that they are both from Corps. They talk awhile and decide to "pasture" together at the same spot the next day.
On the mountain slopes
Early on September 19, 1846 , the two children climb the slopes of the Mount sous-les-baisses, each urging four cows up the mountain. Besides his own flock, Maximin had a goat and his dog Loulou. Sun-light flooded the Alpine slopes. Far down the mountain the Angelus bells rang out from the village church. This was a sign for the shepherds to lead their cows toward the "flock spring", a small pool formed by the brook as It tumbled down the Sezia ravine. Then they goaded the cows toward an adjoining field on the slopes of Mount Gargas. The animals browsed quietly in the hot sun.
Maximin and Melanie went back up the hollow to the "people spring" and broke out their frugal lunch of bread and cheese. Other shepherds came up from the lower pastures and joined them in friendly chatter. When they left, Maximin and Melanie crossed the brook and came down a few steps toward two stone benches near a dry stream bed: this is the "small brook". Melanie set down her small bag, and Maximin placed his smock and his lunch on a nearby stone.
The other brightness
Contrary to their habits, the two children lay down on the grass... and fell asleep. The September sun was relaxing and the sky was cloudless. The chattering brook highlighted the stillness of the mountains. These were quiet moments...
Melanie woke up with a start and shook Maximin! "Memin, Memin, get up!.. let's go look for our cows. I don't know where they are!" Quickly they climb the hillock facing Gargas. From that vantage point they could see the surrounding area, and the cows right there, grazing peacefully.
The two children were relieved. Melanie took a few steps down the hillock. Half-way, she froze, stunned, and let her shepherd's stick fall. "Memin, look over there, a light!"
Near the small brook on one of those stone benches... there was a globe of fire. "It's as if the sun had fallen there!" But the sun still shone in a cloudless sky. Maximin ran to Melanie's side yelling, "Where is it? Where is it?" Melanie pointed to the bottom of the ravine where they had just rested. Maximin came to her, frozen with fear and said, "hold on to your stick! I am keeping mine and if it comes close I'm giving it a good whack!" The light stirred, moved and swirled. Words failed the children to describe the rush of life that streamed from the fiery globe. A woman appeared within the light; she was sitting, her head in her hands, her elbows on her knees, in deepest grief.
The beautiful Lady
The lady rose slowly. The children had not moved. She spoke to them in French: "Come near, my children, do not be afraid. I am here to tell you great news." They approached the Lady. They stared at her. She was still crying. "She seemed like a lady that her children had beaten and who had run away into the mountains to cry." The beautiful Lady was tall. She was all light. She was dressed like the women of that region: a long dress, long apron tied at the waist, a shawl crossed and knotted in the back. One her head she wore a peasant bonnet. There were roses in a crown around her head, around her shawl and her shoes. Light shimmered like a fiery diadem on her forehead. A chain seemed to weigh heavily on her shoulders. A finer link-chain held a brilliant crucifix on her breast, with a hammer on one side and tongs on the other.