The Story of Our Lady of the Flowering Thorn: A Symbol of Devotion and Resilience

March 24

Our Lady of the Flowering Thorn

From the infancy of the Church, images of our Blessed Lady have been in use among the faithful to enkindle and keep alive in their hearts a tender devotion to the mother of God. When the barbarians overran the Roman Empire, the Christians, fearful of profanation, hid these statues of the Blessed Virgin in the most secret recesses of caves and forests.

The Huns and Vandals spared neither age nor sex, and when the tumult of war had subsided, oftentimes few or none remained to withdraw those statues from their hiding places; and they rested until the providence of God made many of them be discovered, often in a miraculous manner.

“Our Lady of the Flowering Thorn” was one of these, and the marvelous circumstances of the discovery are thus related by a chronicler of the olden time:

On the western side of the Jura, there once stood an old baronial residence. Its noble owner had heard the voice of St. Bernard calling through the length and breadth of the land, to the rescue of Jerusalem and of the Holy Sepulchre. Inspired by the call, he left for the Crusades, but sadly fell on the battlefield, leaving his widow to mourn his loss while rejoicing in his gain. Their names have been lost in the lapse of ages; he is only remembered as the crusader, she as the saint.

One day, as the lady walked along the avenue of her castle lost in pious meditation, she saw an arbutus bush crowned with white blossoms shaded with crimson rays. She broke off a branch and placed it in her oratory over an image of the Blessed Virgin, feeling immense sweetness in her heart. Every day, she continued this small tribute.

One evening, when she went to gather her garland late, an uneasy feeling overcame her. Yet, when she reached the thicket, a calm clear light illuminated the bush. Startled, she trembled but still plucked the branch and returned to her castle.

The next day, the lady returned to the thicket with a servant and her chaplain. The glowing light appeared even more vividly. The chaplain chanted a hymn and, parting the branches, found a rudely carved image of the Blessed Virgin glowing softly. They carried the statue to the castle with reverence and placed it in a richly decorated niche.

Yet, by morning, the statue had vanished. They found it again in the thicket, glowing brighter than before. Understanding that the Virgin preferred the humble shelter of the flowery thorns, they built a chapel there. Pilgrims flocked to visit, miracles were reported, and eventually, a convent was established where the saintly widow became its superior.

She died full of years and good works, and Our Lady of the Flowering Thorn received her pure soul. Even now, every spring, the thorn trees bloom, and white petals testify to this tale. For those who wish to see, they can travel to the forgotten valley near the highest peak of the Jura, where the ruins remain. As you kneel on the grassy stone that once formed the chapel window, say a prayer to Our Lady for the one from whom this tale was heard, and for all lovers and devotees of Mary.

Our Lady of the Flowering Thorn