Sometimes I wish I could have my own visit from Mary. Sometimes.
Most of the time, I like keeping Heaven just at arm's length!
But in 1980, a sacristan named Bernardo Martinez had a series of visits from Our Blessed Mother, and it's a story that touches my heart.
Bernardo was a quiet soul who had served most of his life as a sacristan in the tiny town of Cuapa, Nicaragua. He swept, dusted, folded linens, and prepared the church for prayer. One April evening in 1980, as he went to ring the bell for the Rosary, he noticed a glow around the statue of Our Lady. At first he thought sunlight was sneaking in from a loose roof shingle… but then he walked closer, he could see that the light was coming from Mary herself.
Everything changed after that.
A few weeks later, on May 8, Bernardo was walking home from fishing when he saw flashes of lightning. Suddenly, a woman appeared—beautiful, gentle, floating on a cloud. She opened her arms, and light poured out. “I come from Heaven,” she said. “I am the Mother of Jesus.”
Her message? Nothing new, but everything we need.
Pray the Rosary. Every day at a set hour. Not rushed. Not distracted.
Pray slowly, while meditating on Scripture.
She also encouraged the Five First Saturdays devotion, as she did in Fatima, and gave a sobering warning: if people didn’t change, the world was headed toward more conflict.
On June 8, Bernardo received another vision. This time a procession of saints, dressed in white, praying the Rosary with Scripture. Later he believed they were Dominicans, the great Rosary preachers of the Church. It was like Mary was giving him a glimpse of the Rosary’s history, its beauty, its power.
Then, in September, she appeared again—this time looking like a young girl. Bernardo told her that the town wanted to build a church in her honor. But she gently corrected him:
“The Lord does not necessarily want a material church.
He wants living temples, which are yourselves.”
Oh… wow.
I don’t know about you, but that hits me right in the heart. Mary keeps bringing us back to the same truth: holiness starts inside. Before the structures. Before the plans. Before all the doing.
Then came October 13, the final apparition. Bernardo told Mary that many people didn’t believe him—and that made her cry. He asked for forgiveness, and once again she urged him to pray the Rosary and reminded him that peace isn’t just something we beg for; it’s something we build with our choices.
She invited him - and all of us - to accept the suffering in our lives, and to ask God for strength to carry our crosses.
And then she said these:
“Do not be troubled.
I am with you, even though you can’t see me.
I am the Mother of all.”
Her apparitions in Cuapa were approved by the local bishop in 1982, and yet somehow this story still feels tucked away—like a gift waiting to be opened.
Slow down.
Pray with intention.
Return to Scripture.
Choose peace.
Let God make you a living temple.
Mary is still mothering us. Still guiding us. Still whispering, “I’m with you.”
