BIOGRAPHY of ST GEMMA GALGANI - Get a Free Blog

Cecilia, who read it, carefully remembering its contents, and then closed it.
Monsignor pursued his intention, and at about two o'clock in the afternoon arrived at the Gianninis' with the
doctor in whom he placed such confidence. It must be admitted that this doctor was a very worthy and
religious man, and Gemma herself heard Jesus say so when she was in ecstasy. The sentiments of the two
visitors were entirely different, however. Monsignor, in doubt, was in search of the truth; the doctor, on the
other hand, was hoping to restore the Bishop's peace of mind by proving that it was a case of hysteria. As for
Cecilia Giannini, she was so certain of the holy girl that she did not fear any investigation.
An hour before, Gemma had retired into her room and had fallen into ecstasy. Blood was flowing from near
her forehead and from the open Stigmata in her hands. Cecilia Giannini, the Chevalier Matthew, his wife
Justina, and several others belonging to the family, saw her in this state. Cecilia ran joyfully to tell Monsignor.
'Come, come,' she said, ' now is the very best time.' In the presence of all, the doctor took a towel, dipped it
in water and wiped Gemma's hands and forehead. The red-colored stains disappeared, the blood ceased,
and not a scar could be seen. Profound disillusionment for all!
As was natural, the doctor rejoiced over his victory. Gemma, on the other hand, all absorbed in the
contemplation of the Passion, was asking Jesus for a greater and greater share in His sufferings; and He
was preparing for her there and then a chalice of suffering, full to the brim and bitter.
When she came to herself, both Monsignor and the doctor had gone. She had not seen them, but she
noticed that a big change had taken place in the attitude of those around her. What a disillusionment for the
charitable, pious and generous Giannini family! They thought they had a saint under their roof, and she turns
out to be only a sick girl, some-what mad, a deceiver! But no, it could not be so! She was not anything like
that. A soul like hers, so sincere, so ingenuous, would be incapable of it! Even a doubt was inadmissible.
To deepen her sorrow, the Lord allowed His servant to see the changed thoughts of those about her.
Towards the end of the ecstasy He had revealed to her that the doctor had come and had seen nothing, and
that a great cross was awaiting her. What was she to do, hedged in as she was by these unfavorable
circumstances? Gemma knew that she was in the hands of God. What then had she to fear? So without
anxiety, calmly, she awaited the tempest.
At about four o'clock in the afternoon of that same day, Aunt Cecilia, who herself felt the need of some
distraction from these oppressive thoughts, suggested to Gemma that they should go out to Benediction
somewhere. Gemma, as usual most obedient, answered: 'Whatever you like.' The following is Cecilia's
deposition on what happened on this occasion:
'When we reached the Guinigi tower, Gemma said to me: "Take me to Jesus for a little while?" And I asked
her: "Would you like to go to a church?" And I took her to the Church of St. Simon and St. Jude which was
not much frequented and where we sat in a corner near one another. For about an hour Gemma, immovable,
rigid, with her hands stretched out over her knees, remained gazing at the Tabernacle. I was watching her all
the time, with the idea in my mind that if the Stigmata came, I could make certain whether she caused them
herself. Then she awakened out of her ecstasy, and said to me: "I should like to tell you something, but I am
very much ashamed." . I encouraged her to speak. She said the same thing again, but when I insisted that
she should tell me, she raised her hands and letting me see the palms, said: "Look ... "And I really saw blood
on the palms, and on the backs of the hands a little wound with drops of fresh blood. Then I thought that I
should like Monsignor Volpi to see her in this state, but I had not the courage to bring her to him. myself.
However, as we were leaving the church we met Palmira Valentini. . . . I asked her to take Gemma to
Monsignor, who was at that time in the Church of the Guardian Angels, where he was giving a retreat to
some children in preparation for their first Communion, and to tell him that Gemma wanted to speak to him
alone….Gemma spoke alone to Monsignor Volpi, related everything to him and showed him the Stigmata.
Monsignor tried to wipe away with a handkerchief the blood which was oozing from the wounds in the hands.
Gemma herself told me this.'
Monsignor Volpi, however, declared that Palmira Valentini brought Gemma, not to the Church of the
Guardian Angels, but to the management office of the Matthew Cividali Schools which had been founded by
him. 'I remember,' he said, ' that when showing me her hands, she was very much confused, and
understanding her embarrassment, I did not make a close examination and sent her away. I confess that I
had the impression that the fact was not natural, considering that on the following day, as I had been
assured, the wound had entirely disappeared.' [The discrepancy is not important, because these places are
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