3:00 PM ~ September 19, 1846 ~ a clear autumn day ~ on a mountain, about 6,000 feet high near the town of La Salette in the French Alps:
Our Lady appeared to two uneducated shepherd children who met the day before while tending cows on the slopes. The children were Maximin Giraud, age 11, and Melanie Calvat, age 14. After eating their lunch, they became tired and fell asleep. Melanie awoke and did not see the cows. In her concern that they may have strayed, she called to Maximin. Quickly, they climbed the hill in front of them and saw the cows grazing on the opposite side of the knoll. The children returned to pick up their knapsacks and were taken aback when they saw a bright light blazing over the bench of stones where they sat for lunch. This brilliance parted to reveal a woman seated on the stones, her elbows on her knees and her face buried in her hands. They immediately realized that she was weeping. They were frightened but the Lady rose and reassured them:
"Come near, my children, don't be afraid. I am here to tell you great news". They hurried to her side while she took a few steps towards them.
Over a shining white dress the Lady wore a full length golden apron. Along the border of her white kerchief were roses of all colors and on a fine gold chain a crucifix more radiant than anything else in the vision. On the left of the crucifix hung a miniature hammer and on the right, pincers. Her headdress was white and crowned with a diadem of roses of many hues. Her shoes were sparkling white with a square gold buckle. Around each slipper were tiny roses that were not crushed as she stood and walked on the tips of the blades of grass.
The Lady was so magnificent in light that the noonday sun faded in comparison. Her face was exceedingly beautiful yet profoundly sad. Tears fell down her cheeks all the while she spoke. With spellbound attention the children listened to this Beautiful Lady:
“If my people refuse to submit, I shall be forced to let go the arm of my son. It is so strong and so heavy. I can no longer hold it back.
How long a time I have suffered for you! If I want my Son not to abandon you, I must plead with him without ceasing. And as for you, you pay no heed! However much you pray, however much you do, you will never be able to repay the pains I have taken for you.
I gave you six days to work; I kept the seventh for myself, and they will not give it to me. This is what makes the arm of my Son so heavy. And then, those who drive the carts cannot swear without bringing in my Son's name. If the harvest is ruined, it is only on account of you. I let you know last year with the potatoes. You paid no heed. Instead, when you found the potatoes spoiled, you swore, and brought in my Son's name. They are going to continue to spoil, and by Christmas this year there will be none left.
The Beautiful Lady had been speaking French but Melanie, not knowing the French word for potatoes, turned towards Maximin to ask him if he knew what pommes de tere meant.
The Lady interrupted: Don't you understand, my children?
Let me find another way to say it.
Then speaking in their local dialect, she continues: If you have wheat, you must not sow it. Anything you sow the insects will eat, and whatever does come up will fall into dust when you thresh it.
A great famine is coming. Before the famine comes, children under seven will be seized with trembling and they will die in the arms of the persons who hold them.
The rest will do penance through the famine, the walnuts will become worm eaten, the grapes will rot.
The Lady then confided a separate secret to each of the children. Although each child noticed her lips moving, neither of them heard what was being said to the other. Having entrusted these secrets, she continued:
If they are converted, rocks and stones will turn in to heaps of wheat, and potatoes will be self-sown in the fields.
Then she asked: Do you say your prayers well, my children?
Hardly ever, Madame.
Ah! My children, you must say them well, at night and in the morning, if you were to say only an Our Father and a Hail Mary, when you can't do better. When you can do better, say more.
In the summer only a few somewhat elderly women go to Mass, the rest work on Sundays all summer long. In the winter, when they don't know what to do, they go to Mass only to make fun of religion. In Lent they go to the butcher shop as dogs do.
Have you ever seen wheat gone badly, children?
No, Madame.
But you, my son, surely you must have seen it once with your father in the field of Coin. The owner of the field told your father to go and see his spoilt wheat. And then you went, and you took two or three ears of wheat in your hands, you rubbed them together, and it all crumbled into dust. On your way back home when you were no more than a half-hour away from Corps, your father gave you a piece of bread and said to you: Here, my son, eat some bread while still have it this year, because I don't know who will eat any next year if the wheat continues this way."
Oh, yes. I remember. Just then, I didn't recall.
Well, my children, you will make this known to all my people.
Then she crossed the brook, walked slowly to the top of the hill and rose more than a meter in the air. There she turned and gazed in the direction of Rome and said once again:
“Very well, my children make this known to all my people.”
Then she vanished. The light alone remained but in an instant it too disappeared.