Dr D’Estranga knew his medical profession well, and it was without argument that Michael Pellicer yielded to his decision of an amputation.

Outside the operating room, the heavy-hearted uncle waited. His hopes had been crushed. All was lost. Our Lady of the Pillar had not healed Michael’s leg.

Surely the Blessed Virgin could have at least obtained a natural, if not miraculous, healing? But no. In the other room, his pain-racked nephew lay on a hard table, with his wounded leg being cut off a little below the knee. Of what use were all of their prayers and devotion?

There is much suffering in a hospital, and all around one may hear the dull moans or piercing cries of the ill and the dying. For in those days there were not many ways to mitigate their physical pains. And yet, as he paused in his thoughts, the uncle realized that he heard no such cries from the operating room. Now and then, Michael’s pained voice would suddenly call out. The first time he could decipher his words, a tear slipped down the man’s old face. His nephew was crying out to Our Lady.

In the midst of what many might consider a betrayal to his faith and prayers, young Michael saw in his sufferings the will of God. He felt, in the depths of his confident heart, that since it had not pleased Our Lady to heal him, he must have merited his sufferings. He knew that, whatever it may cost him, She always would obtain what was best for his soul. Michael believed that. And no matter what anything seemed like - he would always believe that. He loved Her tenderly - and he knew that She loved him even more.

After the operation, Michael returned to Our Lady of the Pillar’s shrine - this time on crutches. Before the miraculous image, the new cripple prayed. He prayed not for a cure, as the idle observer may have imagined, but in gratitude. He thanked his Blessed Mother for the strength and grace that the She had given him to endure his operation and accept the Providential Will of God. And truly, in the eyes of God - that is a greater miracle.

“Alms! Alms for the love of Our Lady!”

A handsomely dressed pilgrim dropped a few coins in the cripple’s hat. “There, you are young man.”

“God bless you, sir!,” was the thankful response. “May the Blessed Virgin protect you!”

The stranger nodded amiably and continued into Our Lady of the Pillar’s Church. As he did so, a priest came walking out and made straight for the beggar.

“Take a little extra today, Michael. The weather is bitter cold.”

“Oh Father, God bless you!” young Pellicer took and kissed the priest’s hand. “Thank you very much.”

“Thank Our Lady,” the priest smiled. And blessing him he added “I think She watches out especially for you.”

“I am very blessed,” agreed the beggar.“She has many devout and generous children.” He spoke as a pious lady placed some alms into his hat. Michael nodded in gratitude and the woman smiled.

“You stay warm now, Michael.” she said, wrapping a shawl tightly over her head.

“Thank you señora, I will.” He waved goodbye as the priest and lady continued away from the church.

“He is a good man,” the priest said aloud, almost to himself. His companion agreed whole heartedly.

“So devoted to Our Blessed Lady. He has been begging infront of her church for how long? Two years, now?”

“At least. If not begging outside, he is praying inside,” nodded the priest. “What a hard blow for such a young man. He’s only twenty-one.”

“And so full of life,” the woman sighed and than added thoughtfully “Yet one can hardly complain about his cross, when he himself is so patient.”

“He is an edifying example to us all.” agreed the priest.

His friend continued. “And yet it is a shame.”

“What is?” asked the priest, turning to her.

“Well, I’ve heard,” the woman said slowly, “That young Pellicer greatly desires to see his parents.”

“His parents?”

“Yes, they live in Calanda, I hear. But the poor thing has not the means,” she said sadly. “Well, maybe one day, he will. Oh excuse me, Father, but I think our roads part now. God bless you.” The woman nodded a goodbye and continued on her way.

Brief as it was, their conversation was a providential one, for the priest had been unaware of this simple, but strong desire of the pious beggar.

“God bless him,” thought the good priest. “Not a word of complaint, yet he hardly asks for anything! Hmm… you know there is that little mule I can spare. Well, I think, that Our Lady has a surprise in mind for her Michael.”

And what a surprise it was! Michael was overjoyed beyond words at the thought that finally, after two long years, he would be able to go back to his family. For one last time, he hobbled down to the sacred shrine. With a grateful heart, he bid farewell to his beloved Our Lady of the Pillar. He was thankful for the time he had been there, but he was glad now to go home.

The journey was not a easy one for the crippled beggar, but his needs were provided for by the alms he received as he traveled through the villages. He would also stop and refresh himself along the way by visiting the different churches.

And at length, Michael Pellicer arrived, to the surprise and joy of his parents, at his home in Calanda. He had left a robust youth, and returned a crippled man. But to his father and mother, he was their son - and he was home. And such a reunion can only be imagined by those who have keenly felt the pain of separation from those they love.

“Michael? Is that you, dear?” Señora Pellicer called out as she heard the front door shut closed.

“Yes, Mother. I am back.”

Señor Pellicer sat upright. There was an unusual strain in his son’s voice. “Are you alright, Michael?”

“You sound very tired.” said his wife, quickly finishing his thought. Michael, leaning heavily on his crutches, carried himself to the fireplace, where his parents sat.

“I am a little tired,” he admitted.

“You look exhausted. Is something wrong?” His father asked. His mother stood up, worried.

“Here, sit down, son.” The woman gestured to the warm chair.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” Michael assured them. He turned to his mother, “Thank you, but I think I will go lay down instead.”

Señora Pellicer looked at him, “You are going to bed? It is only 8 o’clock.”

“He’s obviously tired.” defended Señor Pellicer.

“For some reason, I am tonight,” said Michael, as he placed his crutches by the fireplace. Then, with an effort, he smiled. “Really, I’m alright, mother.”

He was hardly fooling anyone, but Señora Pellicer suppressed her worries. “I will come in and check on you later. Just to make sure you are alright.”

“Well, if you want to hear me sleeping, by all means, pay a visit.” Michael said cheerily, as he hobbled off to bed.

Once in his room, he permitted a few painful sighs to escape him, as he dragged himself onto his bed. Wearily, he pulled the covers over himself as he lay down.

What a life lay ahead of him! Only twenty-one years old, and already he was weak and exhaustible, a burden to his parents. Certainly his devotion and piety was a consolation to them, but what apparent good did that do anyone? No matter how strongly one carries a cross, at a certain point, it is impossible to ignore its weight. And it is a truth that when the body is fatigued, the mind’s defenses are weakened. And it is at times like that, when the devil seeks to sow his seeds of discouragement.

But by the grace of God and Our Lady, he did not find fertile ground in Michael’s heart. Confidently, tenaciously, Michael adhered to his trust in the Blessed Virgin. He would never doubt Her love! Never distrust Her protection! If God created him to spend the rest of his life with one leg, then that is what he would do. And he would not lose heart! He would always trust Our Lady of the Pillar. She was his protectress.

Slowly, without realizing it, he fell into a deep sleep, and found himself back at Her beloved shrine. In his dream, however, he was thrilled to see that the miraculous image was alive. Our Lady of the Pillar, living and breathing, stood before him - surrounded, as she was in centuries past, by angels.

Michael’s eyes met with Hers, and a joy beyond understanding flooded his heart. For in those eyes he saw Her love for him; a love that had been inflamed by his confident devotion to Her.

In gratitude, the angels, at Her word, gently approached him.

His consolation, though, ended all too abruptly - for he was suddenly awakened by the sound of his parents.

Opening his eyes, he saw that his mother, true to her word, had come in to check on him. Oh, but of all the nights to disturb his sleep!

"Oh, why did you awaken me from so sweet a dream?” he exclaimed. “It was so beautiful!” Without waiting for an explanation, he continued “ I was in the holy chapel of Our Lady of the Pillar, and there, in the presence of my dear Protectress,” Michael paused a moment. The memory was so consoling and so real. He turned and looked into the expectant faces of his parents. “Two angels came to me and…. they restored to me my lost leg as a reward for my persevering confidence in our Blessed Mother.”

To his surprise, his dream brought tears to his mother’s eyes.

“Oh my son,” she cried, her emotions choking her words. “Give thanks to God and Our Lady!”

Michael looked inquiring at his father, who also was filled with emotion.

“It was not merely a dream,” Señor Pellicer exclaimed, “Look! You have two legs again!”

Quite taken aback, Michael sprang out of bed.

It was true. Our Lady of the Pillar had restored his leg to him.

Although it was quite past eleven o’clock, the neighbors, when they heard the cries coming from the Pellicer’s home, rushed over to see what had happened. Quickly discovering the cause of their joy, they joined the good parents in their wish to render thanks for the miracle - and everyone conducted young Michael in triumph to the church.

It was the evening of March 29th, 1640. A little over a year later, the miracle was authentically published by the Archbishop of Saragossa, after a thorough and juridical examination. All the facts connected with the miraculous healing were attested to by many witnesses, and authenticated by notaries, professors, and surgeons.

Michael’s miracle was complete. There only remained, as a testimony for the rest of his life, a bright red line around his leg.

Soon after the miracle, Michael returned on a pilgrimage of thanksgiving to the chapel of Our Lady of the Pillar. He had left there a crippled beggar, and returned a miraculously healed son - eternally grateful and forever devoted to his faithful, loving Mother.