There were two special people, the disciple whom I loved and my mother. In my final hours, they consoled me as no one else could ever do. Frequently, I looked at them standing valiantly at the foot of the cross. They said no words and made no gestures, but I knew what was in their hearts.

They were the two who were closest to my own heart. Their sorrows multiplied my sorrows. This is the truth about human life. The same love that consoles also increases the pain. A constant flow took place between our hearts, a flow of both consolation and sorrow.

Finally, I had to say what was in my heart. “Woman, behold your son”, and to the disciple “Behold your mother”. That was the grace of my death. A believer would share in my relationship to my mother. From this flows every gift. So, I say to all the world, “Behold your mother”. She will make you children of the Father.