From her diary (year 1900):
Saturday, August 25
During Communion this morning no consolation; I did everything coldly. Let the holy will of my God be done. What will happen today? Jesus is not coming, and I don’t even feel Him nearby. I go to bed and I see a guardian Angel approaching, whom I recognized to be mine; but I was overtaken with a bit of fear and an internal disquiet.
So many times fear assails me when I see someone appear but little by little this passes and ends in consolation. Yesterday, instead, my disquiet grew until, if someone touched me, I shook: something that never happens to me when it is truly my dear Angel. In short, I was uncertain about this when he asked me: “When are you going to confession?” “This evening,” I answered. “And why? Why do you go so often? Don’t you know that your confessor is a swindler?” Then I understood what was happening here and I made the sign of the cross several times; he struck me so severely that I shook. My Angel never speaks to me this way.
The combat lasted in this way for a long while and I promised that in spite of him I would go to confession, and in fact I went. I called Jesus, and my Mom, but what! No one. After a while my real guardian Angel appeared, obliging me to confess every detail and he specified two things to tell my confessor.
Distress and fear of the enemy vanished quickly and I calmed down until it was time to go to confession; I didn’t want to go for anything. With effort I went but I was able to say very, very little. But I do want to tell everything, so I will write.
Last night my beloved Mother came, but Her visit was so short; nevertheless it consoled me greatly. I prayed to Her as much as I could on my own behalf, that She take me to Heaven, and I also prayed fervidly for other matters. How She smiled when I repeatedly called her Mom! She came near, caressed me, and left me in the company of my guardian Angel, who remained joyful and cheerful until morning.
Sunday, August 26
In the morning, after I left my room, he also left. I received Holy Communion without knowing anything of Jesus; during the morning I felt such a strong wish to cry that I had to hide myself out of the sight of others so they wouldn’t notice. My soul felt uneasy and I did not know what to rely on. My God, how shall I begin to describe it! But it’s for the best, because if this notebook of mine should fall into people’s hands, they will recognize in me nothing other than a disobedient, bad pers
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