Chapter 1

Of all the Catholic shrines and sanctuaries in Spain, none is probably more ancient or precious to the true Spaniard's heart, then the church of Our Lady of the Pillar (or ‘Nuestra Señora del Pilar’ as it is known in Spanish) in Saragossa. For what reason? you may ask. Even in light of the countless miracles that pilgrims have been blessed with there, the strongest claim that Our Lady of the Pillar has on their devoted love is the fact that it was founded by Spain's first and greatest missionary – the Apostle St. James the Greater.

The manner, also, in which it was founded, so characteristic of the solicitous affection of our Blessed Mother, was enough to leave a lasting impression on the Catholics of Spain.

Around the year 40 AD, St. James, in his missionary travels, had stopped off at the town of Saragossa. His heart was heavy, for his zealous hopes of winning souls for Christ, were being far from realized. Deep down he prayed for help and for guidance.

His still did have some disciples, and these he would gather at night along the peaceful banks of the river Ebro. There he would instruct them in the Catholic Faith, sharing the same mysteries and truths that he heard from the lips of Our Lord Himself.

It was near midnight, on one of these evenings, when the faithful who were listening to St. James, suddenly heard voices other than the Apostle's. Quite clearly, a very beautiful chant could be heard. As the sacred words 'Ave Maria gratia plena' rang through the air, the Spaniards then saw the angels who were singing. In the midst of the celestial choirs, they beheld a marble pillar and on it, as if on a throne, sat a woman of exquisite beauty.

St. James, gazing in awe at the wonderful apparition, stopped short. Could it be? That lady! Those loving eyes and that sweet smile, so familiar to him! Instantly, the Apostle fell to his knees, recognizing at once the beloved Mother of His Master.

Our Lady, too, looked lovingly toward the apostle, most pleased with the work he was doing for Her Son. She told him, that God wanted him to construct a church upon this spot dedicated to Her, His Own Beloved Mother. The Blessed Virgin gave Her word, that to all who would here invoke her with faith and confidence, She would promptly come to their assistance with the fullness of Her loving and Maternal powers. Then, She left as a testimony to her apparition and promise, the marble pillar upon which she sat.

With zealous haste, St. James followed her instructions, and a modest chapel was soon constructed. A statue of the Holy Virgin (which some tradition holds was given with the pillar) was placed upon the miraculous pillar of marble. And since then, Our Lady of the Pillar has been the attraction of countless pilgrims from both within and beyond the borders of Spain.

The simple chapel, favoured by miracles increasingly more numerous and wondrous, became, for the Spaniards, a proof of the love and power of their Heavenly Queen.

And in time, due to their pious devotion, a grander Church was erected over the ancient chapel, which then became the crypt, while still remaining the home of the famous and now miraculous image of Our Lady of the Pillar.

But our story does not end here. Nor is it the task of this tale, to relay the full history of this ancient and miraculous devotion. Rather, this story skips centuries of time – taking us to the year 1638, when a young Spaniard’s humble, devoted love for Our Lady of the Pillar would change his life…

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“Come on, now! I think we are ready. This cartload is about full. Are you coming, Michael?”

“I'll be right there, Uncle!”

Michael Pellicer, a young and robust man of 19, was the son of poor parents from the town of Calanda, in Arragon, Spain. Strong, and pious for his age, Michael lived and worked with one of his uncles, in Valencia.

It was harvest time, and the fields had yielded a bountiful crop. Michael was quite grateful to the good God and His Blessed Mother. More work meant more pay. And the better the harvest, the less likely he or his family would go hungry. Poor as his family was, Divine Providence always took care of them, and Michael had great confidence in his Heavenly Father and Mother.

Climbing up into the heavily laden cart of corn, the hard-working lad prepared to enjoy the somewhat less tedious part of his task: escorting the corn to storage .

But this was a ride that he would never finish.

To everyone’s dismay and shock, Michael unexpectedly lost his balance and suddenly toppled out of the moving cart. His fall was not far enough though. For in the rapid moments that followed, Michael’s leg got caught beneath the large, rolling wheel as the heavy cart passed over him.

The poor youth cried out in pain, and his companions instantly stopped the horse and cart and rushed to his side.

“Michael!”

“What happened?”

“My… my leg, Uncle. The wheel. It ran over it….” Michael gestured with his arm.

“Oh my goodness…” the old man bit his lip. It was clearly a bad injury. “Here. We have to get you to the hospital.”

“But, Uncle…!” Michael shifted in pain. “We don’t have money to pay a doctor.”

“Don’t you worry about that!” his uncle snapped back. Then, with a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Let’s get you up, Michael. Come on, fellows, give me a hand here.”

“Don’t you worry! We’ll take him.”

“Here,” one of the men tore a strip off his rugged shirt. “Tie this above his knee.”

“Someone go fetch a cart!”

“Wait, I see one coming! Wave it over.”

“He sees us... Hey! Over here!”

There was a bustle of anxious activity and Michael felt himself gently lifted by several rough, but sturdy hands.

“Oh sweet Mother Mary,” the wounded man whispered to himself, “Please. What will happen to my family, if I go lame? Please… please help me.”

Despite the firm assurance of his Uncle, Michael was right in saying how they had no money. He was rushed to the nearest hospital, but the nearest one that they could afford: the local hospital in Valencia.

And in time, despite the many remedies applied to the broken limb – it was evident that the medical attempts were without success. In fact, the ailment was only getting worse.

“It is a shame, my friend.” The doctor readily admitted. “He seems like such a good boy.”

“They don’t come any better,” said the uncle staunchly. A touch of bitterness crept into his voice. “It seems to me that God has worse men to punish. And what of Our Lady’s protection?”

“It is true,” agreed the doctor. “Young Michael seems quite devoted to her. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t hear Her name on his lips.”

“He has great confidence in Her,” said the uncle. “In fact, he has been begging me to take him to the great hospital in Saragossa. He is sure Our Lady will help him there.”

“Saragossa? Ah, Our Lady of the Pillar.”

“Yes, her church is there. His devotion to Her is remarkable. And, I must admit, there have been many miracles there. Perhaps…” The old man paused, his eyes deep in thought. “Maybe I will take him.”

The doctor nodded. “There is little more I can do for him here. And Dr. D'Estranga is an eminent surgeon. Between his skill and Michael’s faith…. ?”

“Yes,” A spark of hope flickered in the uncle’s eyes. “There is a good chance of a healing. And Michael has been patient, but persistent, in making the pilgrimage. I’m sure Our Lady of the Pillar will hear his prayer. ”

The journey was hard for the wounded patient, but at heart, Michael was thrilled.

When they arrived, they went to bring him immediately to the hospital.

“No, wait.” Michael said suddenly. “Bring me to Our Lady of the Pillar’s crypt.”

His companions looked at one another. “You want to go down to the underground chapel?”

“In your condition, Michael?” His uncle was shocked. “That is ridiculous. You are burning with pain as it is! Our Lady will understand.”

“No! Please, uncle,” the young man pleaded. “Bring me down there! We’ve come this far. Let me see Her sacred image atop the pillar.”

“But your leg, Michael,” the uncle insisted. “you are simply in no condition to –”

“I can do it!” said Michael. “What better way to prove my faith in Her. Mary will help me, Herself! I promise.”

Arguments seemed to be useless, and the uncle saw that yielding was his only option. And so, carried down by his faithful friends, Michael was laid before the blessed and miraculous statue of his dear Mother.

There, in the silence of his devoted heart, Michael prayed. And much to his uncle’s dismay (though at this point, it was hardly a surprise), Michael insisted to stay and hear Mass in the little crypt. First, though, he went to confession, then heard Mass and received Holy Communion. All this while, though, his leg was seething with pain, Michael confidently and unceasingly implored his Heavenly Mother for aid. He was confident of benefiting from the promise Our Lady gave, centuries and centuries ago, to help those who invoked her loving protection and assistance.

Then, with perfect resignation to the Divine Will, Michael was taken up to the hospital. There, he was placed under the care of Dr. John D’Estranga, who was at that time – one of the best in his profession.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” The good doctor at last came in to see his patient. “I hear you have been down to the chapel of Our Lady of the Pillar.”

“Yes,” Michael smiled. “She is why we came.”

“Well, let me take a quick look at your leg”

“And your skill is renowned, Dr D’Estranga.” The uncle smiled, as the doctor approached the bed. “It is good of you to see us. My nephew’s condition has only worsened. We were hoping….”

His voice trailed off as he watched the doctor’s face. There was a look on his face that spoke louder than words. The heavy silence was at last broken by the doctor. His voice was firm… and anxious.

“We must act quickly,” said the surgeon. “His leg must be amputated at once.”