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He continues by just barely making Himself seen, but in the act of drawing my will so much to Himself, that I almost feel as if I wanted the chastisements. What pain! It seems He let me suffer a little bit, telling me: "Things will be grave; this little suffering of yours serves to content you and to make Me keep my word to you - of sparing in part."
And I: ‘Thank You, O Jesus! But I am not content. I hope I can win You and placate You, because from the news one hears about the war, it seems that Italy is winning; therefore since Italy is winning, it will never get to the point that the foreigners may invade Italy.’
And Jesus: "Ah! my daughter, how they deceive themselves! I will allow the first triumphs to make them blind, and then the enemy will plot their defeat. This is nothing yet; the triumphs they talk about are without battles, and therefore without certainty."
And I: ‘Ah! I have seen it, Jesus. Keep me content – placate Yourself.’
And He: "Ah, my daughter, my daughter!"
