We begin a new day of the Little Journeys of the Virgin, an Advent path that prepares us interiorly for Christmas. It is not just about remembering the journey of Mary and Joseph, but about walking with them, learning to wait, to accept detachment, and to prepare the heart for the adoration of the Child who is coming. Each day places us at a stage of this spiritual itinerary, inviting us to advance with fidelity, silence, and hope toward Bethlehem.
INITIAL PRAYER
Before beginning the journey
Lord our God,
Eternal Father, origin of every fulfilled promise,
in the silence of Advent we set out on the path before You.
We know where we are going and with Whom we walk.
You have willed that your Son not come suddenly, but slowly,
gestated in the faith of a Virgin,
guarded by the silence of a just man,
awaited step by step, day after day.
And in that humble path you have taught us
that salvation does not burst forth with clamor,
but arrives walking little by little.
Today we want to accompany Mary of Nazareth,
Immaculate Virgin and believing Mother,
on her silent march toward Bethlehem.
We want to walk with Saint Joseph, Blessed Patriarch,
faithful man who sustains without possessing the mystery that saves the world.
And we want to prepare the heart
to welcome the Child who is coming,
the eternal Word who becomes flesh
without demanding place or forcing doors,
without imposing His Love.
Purify, Lord, our memory,
so that the path may not be only remembrance, but conversion.
Awaken in us a simple hope, capable of rejoicing even in rejection,
and a humble joy that does not depend on being consoled, but on knowing oneself loved.
May these Little Journeys teach us to walk slowly,
not to anticipate the end, nor flee from weariness, nor close the heart.
Make us interior pilgrims, so that when we arrive in Bethlehem,
we do not pass by, but know how to adore.
Through Jesus Christ, your Son, who comes to us in poverty
and lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
and is God forever and ever.
Amen.
Today the journey takes us from the city of Nain to the fields of Samaria, that open and rugged territory where it is remembered how Jesus, already in his preaching age, healed ten lepers—symbol of the mercy that heals what is wounded in the depths of the human soul.
I go out with you, my Virgin, and with you, my Father and Lord Saint Joseph, along a path that seems endless: the ground is uneven, the snow restless, and the wind blows strongly. The route that runs between Nain and Samaria is not easy; it is cold and the gaze finds no immediate refuge.
I walk beside you, and I feel the roughness of the rock and the dust under my feet. The path today speaks to me of the despised and the trampled, of those who cross without seeing, of those who push away with indifference, of those who are too busy to notice what truly matters.
I draw near to you, Immaculate Mother.
—My Lady —I say to you—, in this field so deserted, so solitary, how does your heart not break for what you see around?
You look at me with that peace that does not exhaust itself.
—Because, child —you tell me with profound sweetness—, I know that God walks even where men do not look. There where no one recognizes, He shows Himself the most.
Joseph walks beside the little donkey, whose step matches mine. I see how he protects the course, how he removes pieces of ice, how he keeps the step sure without showing fatigue.
—My Father and Lord —I say to him—, how to keep fidelity in the midst of harshness?
He breathes deeply and responds to me with firm serenity:
—Because it is not we who keep the path, but He who guides us even when we do not see Him.
In the depths of the soul I suddenly find an image: the ten lepers whom Jesus received in this same field. They were ten outcasts, separated, wounded by a repugnant disease, and He healed them. Today in this Samaritan field I encounter You, Child Jesus who comes, healing the human heart, touching the invisible, healing the leprosy of my wounds. And I understand that this stretch is not only geography; it is encounter: with the mercy of God, with the compassion that heals, with Him who passes among men without being noticed. And I walk, not only with my feet, but with the heart disposed to let myself be transformed.
Prayer
Little Immaculate Virgin, my Lady,
You who advance without anyone recognizing You,
teach me to look with the same compassion with which You look:
not from comfort, but from the simplicity of the heart.
May my faith not be troubled by the world’s indifferences,
but may my heart remain attentive
to what God reveals in the humble and in the poor.
My Father and Lord Saint Joseph, Blessed Patriarch,
teach me your patience and your fidelity on the rough path.
Guard me from precipitation and easy judgment;
make my heart merciful constancy,
capable of sustaining the gaze where others avert theirs,
capable of opening doors where others only see walls.
And You, Child Jesus who comes, Savior of every wound,
who today traverse these fields of Samaria also for me,
touch my invisible sores and regenerate my leprosy,
heal my interior blindnesses and make me sensitive to your presence
in those who suffer, in those who are rejected,
in those who still do not know your love.
Come to my heart with your mercy,
and teach me to live healed in order to heal.
By: Msgr. Alberto José González Chaves
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