On Sept. 12, 1948, Teresita Castillo or Sister Teresing, a 21-year-old postulant at the Carmelite monastery in Lipa, Batangas, received a message from “Mary, the mediatrix of all grace,” as she would later identify herself.

“Mediatrix” is Latin for mediator, intercessor. Filipino bishops point out that “mediatrix” was a name used in 1942 when the bishops of China consecrated the church of China to Mary Mediatrix in order to assure the fidelity of Catholics during the Chinese revolution of that year.

Mary would appear to Sister Teresing 19 times, the apparition usually marked by a shower of rose petals with a holy image on it. On Oct. 17, 1949, Sister Teresing received a secret message to be made public 67 years later, in 2015. By then, the Philippines and China had become locked in a territorial dispute.

The Philippines subsequently won its case at the international court at The Hague. But, as we all know, the succeeding government did not assert the verdict; in fact, it ceded the disputed territorial waters in question to China in exchange for vague deals.

Warning

Yet, our Lady had warned us precisely about China: “Pray hard, for China dreams of invading the whole world. The Philippines is one of its favorites. Money is the force that will lead the people of the world to destruction. Prayers, sacrifices, self-denials and the daily recitation of the Rosary will soften the heart of my Son.”

Imagine how that would have sounded in 1949 when only two weeks before, Mao Zedong had just established his communist People’s Republic of China; its superpower stature lay yet in the fairly distant future.

Interest in the miracle in Lipa has increased, especially since Duterte’s pro-China stand has become more obvious and more difficult to understand. Placed in the context of our Lady’s warning, it is quite worrisome.

The miracle has stirred up some childhood memories of my own and strengthened my faith. The apparition and the shower of petals fascinated me as a child. I was 8 and still living with my paternal grandparents, but I spent weekends with my family in our rented apartment on M. Natividad, an esquinita.

On the weekend before my ninth birthday, in 1949, dad asked me what I wanted for the occasion. I told him I wanted to visit the Carmelite monastery to witness the shower of rose petals. Dad instantly said yes. He neither warned me that it might not be true nor made me aware of the suffering and indignation the visionary was going through as the Vatican looked into her case.

Dad, anyway, loved to drive on visits to old churches and mom loved going to provincial markets. All four of us, including my 4-year-old brother, went in our chunky maroon two-door Ford. We heard Mass and mingled with other devotees. We saw the vine and the spot where our Lady was said to have been appearing; alas, we did not see the visionary or get a peek into her vision—no shower of petals.

We drove around and had lunch before heading back home. Everyone was kind not to tease or mock me about my foolish birthday wish, but I really wanted it more than anything. Dad and mom sat in front, Danny and I in the back. Danny liked to stand between mom and dad to get a full view of the road ahead.

Accident

Suddenly dad veered left and everything went blank.

I don’t know how long before I heard dad calling out our names. I do remember how surprised we were to find ourselves in different places, far from the crunched-up car, which had turned over, its tires still whirring in the dusty air.

It was hard to imagine anyone getting out or surviving the accident, which was exactly what a kind gentleman in a jeep had said when he stopped to help and take us to the Philippine General Hospital. My brother had a small head gash; dark blood had matted his hair. But the three of us had been unscathed. He was X-rayed and cleared, and we were all soon declared fit to leave the hospital.

That was a miracle by Mary, Mediatrix of all Grace, as far as I’m concerned. From then on, we became believers in Sister Teresing and the Virgin of Lipa. Every time we found ourselves in Lipa or around there, we visited the church.

Like all visionaries and saints, the poor nun went through severe trials. She was banished from the convent and, for most of the remaining part of her life, her experience was pronounced illusionary. But there were also the courageous declarations of Filipino bishops, particularly Ramon Arguelles, who wrote that the Marian phenomenon in Lipa did exhibit supernatural character and was thus with “moral certainty worthy of belief.”

There are times in one’s life when one imagines that only a miracle can save oneself. These days may very well be such a time. We can’t say the Virgin Mother didn’t warn us, in fact she told us exactly what to do: “Pray hard, sacrifice and self-denials, and the recitation of daily Rosary.”