Dr. Juan Moisés De La Serna
Fatima: The Final Secret

“Not a chance, he’ll have done it before without you knowing.”

“No, because the photographs would be here, he doesn’t have another camera,” my father argued.

He had told me all of that, and I was telling the parents of the little boy while they stared enthralled at the photo, which had been put into that little picture frame that the wife had placed on some boxes in a corner. We had taken the frame from there a while ago, and she hadn’t noticed, we had put the photo inside and then the four of us gave it to them as a farewell gift.

The father, who was on the verge of tears, told us:

“It was a pleasure,” and we laughed, so as to keep him from tearing up.

“Let’s see if from now on, it can make you happy,” Simón told him. “You see how everything has been overcome. You have to have more confidence man; life is very beautiful.”

“Well, almost everything,” he said, looking sadly at the sheet that covered him.

“Yeah, but that’s not something we can help you with that,” Simón added very seriously.

“Yes, well we can’t complain,” the woman interrupted. “Thank you for everything, we’ll never forget you.”

We all said our goodbyes. We didn’t want to extend that moment that was difficult for all of us any further. So many hours spent there, so many memories that would safely stay with us forever.

When we were returning home, commenting on the incidents that had happened to us, we said:

“We spent so much time there and we never did find out what was wrong with him, why was he always covered?”

“I know why,” said Santi.

“Tell us, tell us!” we all asked him, eager to know.

“Well, he was a blacksmith, and one day he had an accident. Some chunks of iron fell on him because the wooden shelf they were sitting on collapsed. He was so unlucky that they injured both his arms. He took little notice, but it seems that the iron was rusty. The wounds it caused developed gangrene, so his arms had to be cut off.”

“Oh, is that why he was always covered up to his neck?” asked Jorge. “It did seem odd to me.”

“Come on you idiot! Didn’t you notice that the bedding was flat where his arms should have been?” asked Simón.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think much of it, I thought maybe it was his legs that were bad. Hey, and how come you know that?” he asked Santi looking at him.

“Listen, do you remember that day when we had to break down the wall that connected the new room to the old one? I overheard the woman when she worriedly said:

‘But honey, they’ll have to find out, they’ll help you, I surely can’t do it alone.’”

“‘No, please,’ I heard him say, crying. ‘Please help me on your own, please don’t let them see me like this.’”

“On impulse, I walked in and told them:

‘I’m here to help you for whatever you need.’”

“He was uncovered and I saw him lying there without his arms. The woman rushed to cover him right away, but when she saw that I’d seen him, she told me:

‘Please don’t tell the others, I couldn’t bear to see their faces full of pity, watching me,’ and two big tears ran down her cheeks.”

“‘Don’t worry,’ I said, ‘keep calm, now I can help you,’ and before anyone could protest, I was uncovering him, and helping him to get up.”

“I put him in a chair in that corner, where he could be sure that no rubble would fall from the wall when we made the hole, and I wrapped him up properly with a blanket so that he wouldn’t get cold, and also so that if you guys came in, you wouldn’t see.”

“The woman was watching me, it seemed that she couldn’t believe what was happening, I’d caught her off guard and all she could say was:

‘Thank you! Thank you! Are you okay, honey?’ She looked at him with such tenderness.”

“He was sobbing the entire time and I asked him:

‘Am I hurting you?’”

“He shook his head, because the words wouldn’t come out. He let me do this to him, and once he was sitting in that corner, he said softly:

‘Thank you son, God will bless you for it.’”

“I tried to smile to calm him down and said:

‘Come on, it was nothing.’ Then I grabbed the straw mattress and pulled it out so that it wouldn’t get in the way, and in turn so that the rubble from the wall wouldn’t fall onto it.”

“When I came outside, I went to tell you guys that we could start making the hole where we had planned, because it was in the same place where he had been lying on the other side, and I told you:

‘He’s already been moved from there, there’s no danger that anything will fall on him.’”

We worked more quickly that morning. Everything had to be completed so that he could go back to his place. The back room was almost finished, all we had to do was close up the hole through which we went in and out. After creating that connecting door, two of us dedicated ourselves to closing the hole and plastering everything properly and the other two to removing the debris.

The wife could not stay still and in her eagerness to help, was faster than we were. Surely it also came down to her nerves, but it made us take on more than we would have done had she not been helping, because we realized how much she was doing, which was a lot and we were not going to be doing less.

When everything had been cleaned up, we finished properly reviewing the new space we’d created, and we said satisfied:

“It’s not too bad.”

The husband, who had been tucked up quietly in that corner the entire time, told us:

“Not too bad? It’s fantastic! You seem to be professionals, surely they wouldn’t have done a better job.”

Since we were lucky that day and it was very hot, the cement dried well, so we could put the mattress into their new bedroom at the end of the afternoon. They would sleep there that night, and we told them that we would take it out again tomorrow to finish up and whitewash the walls, and we left it at that.

Santi was still telling us his story and as we reached the point where we had to go our own separate ways and say goodbye, we asked him:

“What happened the next day? Why did you go early?”

“Don’t you remember? When we were on the way home that afternoon, I said, ‘I forgot my sweater, you guys just keep going,’ and I ran back.”

“Yes, and by the way you took a long time to come back,” Jorge said, “we were waiting for you there in the countryside, we were exhausted and you didn’t seem to be in any hurry.”

“Well, that’s because I’d thought, ‘When we leave, he’ll have to be put back into his bed,’ and I had to find an excuse to help him without you guys knowing, so I left my sweater in a corner, how could I have forgotten it? That’s why I told you that I was going back for it, and that’s how I arrived just when Encarnación was about to lift him up so she could put him back onto the bed. I helped her to do it and then I went back to where you guys were waiting, but in the rush, I left again without the sweater and I had to go back to pick it up, that’s why it took so long.”

“And the next day?” Simón asked.

“See, as I knew that he wouldn’t let himself be touched or seen by any of you, I said to myself, ‘Surely his wife will have to do it before we arrive so he’s already up by the time we get there,’ so I came earlier, when there was barely any light in the sky, to help in any way I could. Sure enough, when I arrived, she was already getting ready to carry him, and she got a fright when I called out, she wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“What are you doing here at this early hour? The sun’s barely up,” she asked me as soon as he saw me, when she opened the door.

“‘I’ve come to help you,’ I answered.”

“‘You’re an angel,’ she said quietly.”

“‘Please! That’s just because you don’t know me very well, ask my mother and you’ll see. She’s always telling me, ‘Santi, you’re a demon, you’re always messing about.’’”

“‘Well, that’ll be at home, you don’t behave like that here,’ she added, smiling as I entered.”

“I went in following her instructions and I found the man in the new bedroom already prepared because he’d heard me and the boy was asleep beside him.”

“‘And what are we gonna do with this one?’ I asked quietly so as not to wake him up.”

“‘Don’t worry, we can move him anywhere and he won’t even notice,’ his mother told me.”

“I took the man out and put him in the same chair he’d been sitting in the day before. The wife was patiently feeding him breakfast, spoonful by spoonful into his mouth. As I didn’t want to disturb them, I went to leave, but she noticed and asked me:

“‘Where are you going? Stay here, it’s still chilly.’”

“So I stayed there for a good while. Then I took out the mattress, so that it wouldn’t get in our way, and I did a little preparation for everything we needed to start the day’s work, and as soon as you guys arrived, you were surprised to see me there and I had to tell you that I’d been confused with the time and thought I was late and that you hadn’t waited for me, and that’s why I came to the house by myself. I saw that you looked at me with a weird expression, it seems that you didn’t believe me, but you didn’t have time to question me about it. It was just then that the boy came out and started to run after the hen and we all started laughing and you forgot about it. Now you know everything,” Santi told us, “there are no more mysteries. I’ve told you now because everything’s finished, and I don’t think they’d mind now.”

“We did leave everything really nice,” I told the others to change the subject, “and about the furniture you’re all asking me about? When I asked my mother to give me the crib, she nearly collapsed.”

“But son, I’m saving it for when you get married and you give me a little grandchild,” she’d told me very upset.

“What if I become a priest?” I answered.

“Stop that! Don’t mess around with that,” she said very seriously.

“No, I said that to you as a joke, but I’m serious about the crib. Please can you give it to me? It’s not doing anyone any good being kept here when there’s a little boy who could use it,” I said, trying to calm her down a little and get her to cave.

“No, the crib was yours, and it’ll be for my grandchildren when you have them,” she insisted.

“Mom, I know it was mine, well Carmen’s first, and after me, it was for the twins and finally Chelito, but look, that little boy I’m asking for has nowhere to sleep and he needs it now. If I get married and have children, and who knows if I will, I’d have to do very badly in my career and my new job to be unable to afford to buy a crib before I emigrate to America,” I was saying in a bid to convince her.

“Enough son, don’t say that, even in jest. Listen, your uncle left and didn’t want to come back here, and it’s not because of a lack of money, he has plenty as you know. Sometimes he’s even sent some to me, he says he doesn’t know what to give me, that money always comes in handy, and I say, he must have enough to spare.”

“Mom, money is never spare, but that shows that, even though he’s far away, he still remembers his beloved sister. Well, if I’m doing badly here with work, I’m leaving like him,” I said without thinking.

“No!” she said resoundingly.

“Well, I’m not leaving, but please give me the crib,” I begged.

“But you have to promise me that you’ll never emigrate,” she said, becoming very serious.

Also seriously, standing there in front of her, staring at her sitting in her chair, I said:

“Mom, I solemnly promise you that I’ll never emigrate to America.”

“Alright smooth talker, take the crib, but tell them to take good care of it,” she said, smiling.

“I’ll tell them what you’ve said. Ah Mom! Can I go to Germany at least?” I said very seriously.

She got up from the chair, and giving me a light smack on the head, said:

“No, not to Germany either. You stay here with me and give me grandchildren, and I won’t settle for one, that’s very boring.”

“I already know that,” I said, “I’ve envied the neighbors since I was little because there are seven of them, always playing and me here alone and bored. I still don’t know why whenever I asked you to let me go to their house to play with them, you always gave me the same answer, ‘No son, there are enough of them, I don’t want you to bother them,’ as if they would’ve noticed one more.”

“Well,” she said, laughing, “then the twins came along, so don’t complain, all of sudden there was two of them. You looked at them and said, ‘Which of them do I play with?’ They were toys to you. Alright, when are you taking the crib?” she asked me more calmly.

“Well tomorrow, so you won’t change your mind,” and giving her a kiss, I was leaving when I heard her say:

“You see what you’re like? You always get what you want.”

<<<<< >>>>>

Summer was coming to an end, we were only one week away from starting classes again and returning to our routine, just enough time to get some rest and enjoy spending time with our families, but unexpected things can happen in just a few days. Tono came that morning crying:

“Mom! Mom!” he screamed as he climbed the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” I asked when I opened the door, because I’d been the first one to hear him, and I’d rushed to open it, to see what had happened.

“No! Not you! I don’t want to talk to you,” he told me very angrily.

I was surprised, but he ran into the kitchen where my mother was preparing food.

“Mom! Mom!” the child kept calling very upset.

“Angel, what’s wrong with you?” she asked in alarm.

He closed the kitchen door behind him so that I wouldn’t go in after him, because I was following him down the hallway, although as he had been closing the door to the house, he was running and he reached where Mom was before I did. I went to open the kitchen door, but he told me from inside:

“Go away! You’re to blame, I don’t want to see you ever again, it’s all your fault.”

I stopped in my tracks. “What had I done? I don’t think I’ve done anything,” I thought, “plus, if he was out on the street playing with his friends and I was at home; surely it would have been a fight with one of them and he was taking it out on me.”

I didn’t really hear what he was talking about, but I immediately heard my mother say:

“Of course, I knew this was going to create problems for us.”

Opening the door, she glared at me and angrily said:

“You see!”

I didn’t understand any of this and I asked:

“Wait, what’s going on? I didn’t do anything to him.”

“How have you not? Look at what’s happened to your brother, he hasn’t done anything and look,” my mother told me, and I still had no clue what she was talking about.

I looked at her, then I looked at him, and I still wasn’t getting it. “What a mess!” I said to myself. I couldn’t figure any of it out, so I asked:

“Okay, well, can either one of you please tell me what’s going on? What have I done that’s so serious? Because I don’t think I’ve done anything, and I can’t work out what’s happened to him. He was out playing on the street!”

Barging angrily past me, Tono said:

“I’m never talking to you ever again in my whole life,” and with that he left for his room, where I heard him locking the door with the key from the inside.

“Mom, please, tell me what’s wrong, what has he told you?” While I asked, I looked at her and I could see her getting angrier.

“Look, do you see what happens by being the way you are?” she said to me very seriously and then she fell silent.

“Me? And what is the way I am? Let’s see, now what on Earth do I have to do with whatever might have happened to the kid on the street?” I was asking her slowly, because I did not want her to get any more upset.

“Listen!” said my mother, when she had calmed down a little. “He told me that the children he was playing with told him he was going to hell.”

“And, what about it?” I asked. “What does that have to do with me?”

“What does it have to do with you? Well, I don’t know how they would have heard about your little thing,” she told me.

“But what is my little thing? Please explain it to me, I still have no idea what you’re talking about, it’ll just be kid stuff,” I said a little irritated, because she insisted on focusing the blame on me for something I didn’t understand.

“Look Manu, this has to change already, I can’t deal with this situation any longer either. Look, my Spiritual Advisor…”

“Who?” I asked a little confused. “Your whaaat?”

“My Spiritual Advisor,” she repeated.

“Wait, what’s that?” I asked again.

“Well, Don Ignacio, the priest, have you forgotten already?” she asked me. “You have to see how you’ve changed son.”

“Yes, the priest, but what you said before, I don’t know what an advisor is. And I haven’t changed at all, I’m still your son, the same as always.”

“Well, the Advisor is another matter, you don’t understand that.”

“Okay, what did that good gentleman tell you?” I said a little irked.

“Don’t call him that! It’s disrespectful,” she said angrily.

“But Mom…, I’m imagining that with him being a priest, that’s proper, is it not? So what should I call him then?” I asked a little more calmly, to see if she finally realized what I had said.

“Look, let’s get on with what we were talking about,” she said getting more and more angry.

“Yes, so he said something, but can you explain it to me just once? What did he say? What do I have to do with all of this? And what does it have to do with what happened to Tono?”

“Well son, you’re coming off like a fool, it’s very clear, it’s all the same thing.”

“But what is it?” I said impatiently, because the issue was becoming increasingly complicated.

“Be quiet and let me finish, and don’t interrupt me every two seconds. Your brother has been told by his friends that he’s going to hell, because he has a brother who’s an atheist.”

Opening my eyes wide, I said:

“Whaaat? Is that what this is all about? I don’t believe it.”

“Of course, I’ve talked about it several times with my Spiritual Advisor, and he has always advised patience, but I’ve had enough. Either you change, or I don’t know what I’m going to have to do with you!” she said staring firmly at me.

“But Mom… It’s not like it’s a dirty shirt that I can take off and put on a clean one.”

“Enough nonsense. I’m having a serious discussion with you, and you, as far as I know, have other shirts. I’d like to be able to take a hold of you and wash you like I do with dirty clothes, and rinse those ideas out of your head. We’d all be better off for it.”

“But Mom… Let’s see, what harm am I doing to anyone by thinking what I want to think? Everyone has their own life to live, the way I see it,” I told her trying to calm her down.

“But don’t you realize? Don’t you see what just happened to Tono?” she told me, her anger not abating and there was no way to change it.

Suddenly we heard Dad at the front door saying:

“Honey, I’m home now.”

Wiping her eyes, my mother said:

“When he finds out…!”

“But Mom…, I haven’t done anything wrong. Calm down!” At that moment, my father came into the kitchen and when he heard me say that he immediately asked:

“Honey, has something happened to you?”

“No,” she replied, approaching him to give him a kiss.

“So, why is Manu telling you to calm down?” he asked again.

She lowered her head and said:

“Go on, tell him! The sooner this is cleared up, the better.”

“Well, what’s all this about? Let’s here it Manu, tell me what’s going on,” my father asked impatiently.

I told him everything that had happened. Then, going out into the hall, he called Tono. From his room with the door closed, he asked:

“Is Manu there? Tell him to leave, I don’t want to talk to him.”

With an authoritative voice, my father said:

“Tono, come out here immediately. I want you to clarify one thing for me right now, and enough with this seclusion and childish nonsense.”

He came grumbling down the hall toward Dad and said:

“What do you want, Dad?”

He looked up, and told him what they’d said:

“I want you to explain one thing for me. Who told those children about your brother?”

“Me!” he answered quietly, “but I didn’t know it was bad.”

“Son, it’s not bad, it’s just a different way of thinking, everyone is allowed to think what they want, do you tell us everything you think?” he asked looking at him very seriously.

“No!” he said, trying not to look my father in the eye, “but the other kids told me…”

“Tono, the other kids can tell you what they want. Do you think Manu is bad?”

“No, at least he never hits me,” my brother replied.

“So are you not going to tell Manu that he has to change?” my mother then asked my father.

“Honey!” he said, “why don’t we eat and leave this for another time? I’m home and I’m quite tired, but I do want you to know Tono, that we love you all and that nothing’s going to happen to you because your brother thinks that way.”

He approached me more calmly and said:

“Alright, if Dad says that nothing will happen to me, then I’ll talk to you again,” and then he ran off.

That incident was over, but it seemed that a pending conversation with my father would be on the cards.

<<<<< >>>>>

“Manu,” he said one afternoon, “I want to have a chat with you today,” and we went for a walk to my grandparents’ house.

I was not clear on why he wanted me to go there, then it all became clear.

When he saw us come in through the door of his house, my grandfather said:

“Nice! I have company.”

“How so?” I asked him immediately when I went over to give him a kiss.

“Well, because your grandmother went to visit a friend who’s sick and I didn’t want to go, so I stayed here reading.”

“Grandpa, don’t you already know all your books by heart yet?” I asked.

“Don’t you believe that Manu, I can always pick one up and discover something new,” he told me very seriously.

“So to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he asked my father, who was coming into the room just then. I had arrived before him, because I had run down the hallway.

“Well, I think it’s time for you to talk to your grandson,” he replied to his father.

I was very surprised to hear that, so I asked:

“About what?”

“First, I’m going to make you a coffee,” my grandfather said. I’m sure it’ll do you some good, the afternoon is a little chilly.

Then, the three of us sat there like three friends, it was barely noticeable that there was an age difference between us all, the three of us had always gotten along very well.

Grandpa started telling me that he was also like me:

“Oh good,” he said, “rather, it’s you who is like me, because I was born first and you were born after me.”

Well, he told me that he had also been an atheist, I was very surprised.

“But Gramps, I’ve seen you go to church on Sundays with Grandma,” I said without being able to restrain myself, even though I knew that he did not like to be interrupted. He always told us, “It’s bad manners to interrupt someone when they’re talking.”

He told me very seriously:

“Listen, if you’ll keep quiet and not interrupt me, you already know that I don’t like that, I’ll tell you about it, otherwise the one who’ll keep quiet will be me.”

“Sorry!” I offered, “I won’t interrupt you anymore,” so I listened to him for the entire time he was speaking, quiet and attentive to everything he told me.

He told me that, like many of his friends, he’d been an atheist in his youth, that he did not see eye to eye with the priests nor did he believe in what they were saying and that he was always fighting with those he knew in defense of his ideas, but something happened in his life that made him change.

I really wanted to interrupt him to ask him what it was, but I held back and sat there by his side listening.

“I met an angel,” he said suddenly.

I must have opened my eyes wide.

“Careful, they’re going to come out of their sockets,” he said with a smile. “Well, as I was saying, almost an angel, your grandmother.”

I took a deep breath.

“Yes, you don’t believe it, I know what you’re thinking, but she was straightening out my life, and making me see how wrong I was. She never gave me big sermons, or forced me into anything, she just set me an example, gave me understanding and affection, and that gradually made me reflect and see that my position was incorrect, that I had the wrong ideas and I changed them as things were becoming clearer in my mind.”

He paused in thought for a moment, and then continued.

“She changed me! It was like I was a sock and she had turned me inside out. I’m not saying I became sanctimonious or anything. No, that’s not me, but she made a new man out of me. I’ll never be able to thank her enough for that.”

“Do you love me Manu?” he asked me suddenly.

I was unsure of whether or not to answer him or if he would scold me for interrupting.

“Answer the question son!” said Dad, who was sitting there quietly beside me.

“Of course Grandpa! I don’t imagine you doubt that,” I told him softly so he wouldn’t get annoyed.

“Well, God loves you like that,” he said, looking me straight in the eye.

“Whaaat? If God doesn’t know me, how is he going to love me?” I said bewildered.

“How can that be? How do you know that?” my grandfather asked me.

“I don’t know, that’s what I’ve asked myself many times, if God really exists.”

“Of course He does son, and He’s like a patient Father who’s there looking after His children, even if they don’t realize it.”

He was telling me in a way that, I don’t know… that was so sweet. I had never heard my grandfather speak that way before.

“But how do you know, Grandpa?” I asked curious.

“Look, the little one doesn’t know if his father is next to the crib, but haven’t you seen your father when Chelito was little? He would go over to put on her little baby clothes.”

“Yes, of course, Dad would stand there and watch her, very quietly, I think so as not to wake her up.”

“Well, imagine your father being nothing more than a man and taking care of his little daughter, and surely inside he was thinking and saying, ‘Little one, be at peace, I’m here and nothing’s going to happen to you.’”

“Yes, he’d say something like that, because I would approach slowly to see her and my father wouldn’t see me because I was hidden behind him, but I would hear him saying things like that, and I would also say, ‘And I’m going to take care of you too,’ but I would say it very quietly so that Dad wouldn’t realize I was there.”

“You see? We all have feelings inside us that make us love others. Sometimes siblings, sometimes grandparents,” he was telling me.

“Yes, and parents too,” I said, interrupting him.

“Of course, parents too, because if God has created us in His own image, how is He not going to love us?” he asked me softly, as if he were reflecting upon it himself.

“But Grandpa…” I began to say.

“No, Manu, I want you to think about all of this, I don’t want to convince you of anything, just to tell you that He loves you and cares for you, even if you don’t know who He is, or where He is.”

The conversation ended and my father said:

“Thanks Dad, I couldn’t have done it that well, he wouldn’t have listened to me.”

“I know son! Children don’t listen to their parents, that’s a generational thing, it’s no one’s fault, but relax, the seed has been sown, it’ll blossom in the spring.”

“What are you talking about Grandpa?” I said, because I didn’t understand anything. “What does a seed have to do with all that?”

“You pipe down, you want to know everything. This is between your father and me.” He did not say any more and then exclaimed: “Here comes your grandmother!”

At that moment, we heard the key in the lock and I made my way quickly to the door. In truth, my intention was to hide and give her a scare, but when I got there I told myself, “No! It might be bad for her,” and before she came in I said:

“Grandma, what are you doing outside your own house?”

She finished opening the door and said:

“What are you doing here? What a surprise!” I wrapped my arms around her neck and told her:

“I love you so much Nana!”

“Charmer!” she said smiling. “You’ve come to have a snack, right? Just give me a minute to change my shoes, and put on my slippers, my feet are frozen.”

After a while, now that “she had gotten comfortable,” as she put it, in her housecoat, which according to her was “warmer than her actual coat,” she went into the kitchen and in no time at all, she brought me one of those delicious sandwiches that she used to make me on cold days. Then she brought me an omelet which she had “Stumbled across,” as she liked to claim, with little chunks of chorizo through it, which were so delicious, and then she also brought me a glass of warm milk, and she asked me:

“What about your assignment? How is it going?”

“I haven’t done it yet,” I said jokingly.

“If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have given you anything. You haven’t earned it,” she told me, turning very serious with an irritated face.

“Nana, I’m only joking,” I said, “of course I’ve done it all.”

“Don’t ever stop doing what your teacher tells you to,” she told me.

<<<<< >>>>>

I remember that first time I went to Fatima so long ago. I was overwhelmed by feelings; curiosity, fear, hope, what did I hope to find? What would that place that I thought I knew through my reading really be like?

I had searched everywhere, and I had read everything I’d found about the events that had taken place there, but I wanted to see it all with my own eyes.

I left Santiago de Compostela one morning at dawn. I had a long journey of over 400 kilometers in front of me. It was raining, and boy was it raining. “That rain was certainly not normal,” I was saying to myself, while the car’s windscreen wipers were moving ceaselessly from one side to the other.