Juan Moisés De La Serna - Fatima - The Final Secret

That was when I decided to go to the site of the apparitions. The weather was looking good and I wouldn’t have any problems getting there, but as I was lost in thought, turning what had just happened to me over and over in my mind, I didn’t realize that I was no longer alone and I was surprised to hear there beside me that someone was asking me a question:

“Are you going to Mass? If you don’t go a little quicker, you’ll be late.”

I came out of my thoughtful state, and saw two ladies hurriedly overtaking me, so I didn’t have time to answer them as they continued on their way.

I thought to myself, “Do I look like I’m on my way to church? They could hardly be more wrong. Of course there were not many other places that they might think I was going to wandering around here.”

I spent the rest of my time walking around, I wanted to see those places that I almost knew already because I had read so much about them. They had of course changed a great deal since the events had actually occurred. The passage of time is certainly not forgiving.

Instead of having deteriorated as usually happens at other sites, what had happened here is that many of them now had new structures.

I walked slowly, I wanted to feel the air, to smell what they smelled, I wanted to try to relive what I had seen and maybe to understand it.

As time passed, I grew more confused. I certainly did not doubt that what had happened to me had been real. But why me? I don’t believe in any of that, I just want to find evidence to prove that it was all a lie, that someone had orchestrated something that still evades my understanding and that tricked some innocent kids, so how could I possibly have seen them if two of them died a long time ago? From what I’ve since discovered, the third kid also died many years ago, although I have to study that controversy more thoroughly to see if I can clarify anything from it.

I suddenly noticed a sensation in my stomach, and when that happens to me, I know it’s my body warning me, and I feel that it’s telling me, “Manu, it’s time to eat, and if you don’t, you can’t go on much further.”

I was surprised. I didn’t think it was so late. I headed back to my accommodation, and when I entered through the door, the owner came toward me when he saw me.

“Hey there!” he said and immediately asked me: “What happened to you this morning? My wife put out breakfast on your table and seeing that time passed and you didn’t come down, she was alarmed that something might have happened to you, so she made me go up to your room.”

“‘It’s strange that he’s fallen asleep until so late,’ she said to me very seriously. ‘Go and see if he’s alright, or if he needs anything.’”

“I protested though. I told her that when you arrived last night, you were clearly very tired, but she insisted so much that I had to go open your door, and what a surprise I got when I saw your room was empty. When I got back down I told her, ‘He’s not in his room, could he have left without paying?’”

“‘Has the bed been slept in? Has he taken his things?’”

“Well, I don’t know what else she would have went on asking me if I hadn’t cut her off, reassuring her saying, yes he’s slept in it, it shows in the bed, and he’s left a bag on the chair, I suppose it must be his.”

“‘Oh good! What a fright,’ she said, calming down a little.”

“‘But a fright from what? Come on, don’t be silly,’ I told her, ‘he’ll have gone out early, he’ll be one of those people who like to get up early to see the sun rise,’ I said, thinking you’d be around here somewhere nearby.”

“‘Come on! If he’d opened the window and ran off, I would have seen him leave without having to get out of my bed,’ she answered.”

I interrupted him at that point and asked him:

“Don’t tell me I can see the sunrise from my bed?”

“Yes,” he said very seriously, “and where did you have breakfast?”

he asked me with a tone in which I noticed his concern. I kept talking:

“Well, you were right, I went to see what the dawn was like, but tomorrow I’ll watch it from my bed, which is more comfortable and that way I won’t get cold, because this morning the air froze my face,” I was saying with the intention of ending the chat so I could go on up to my room.

“You have to be careful, when the breeze blows here, you really feel it. Alright, but you’ve not answered me yet,” he said very seriously.

“Answered what?” I asked in surprise. I didn’t know at that moment what he was referring to.

“Where did you have breakfast?” he asked in a worried tone.

“Well, I haven’t had it yet, although… Ah yes!” I remembered at that moment, “I had some coffee and some cookies before I left,” I answered, smiling to calm him down.

“What did you say? Come eat quickly, you must be starving.”

Almost pushing me, he led me to the dining room. I glanced around and saw that there were two ladies sitting there despite how late it was, and they were talking to the man’s wife, the other owner.

“Excuse me,” he said as soon as we entered, “this man comes hungry, you have to take care of him.”

Apologizing to the two ladies who were there eating something that I couldn’t identify, his wife turned around and went into what I assumed must have been the kitchen.

“Good morning! Excuse me,” I said, “what is it that you’re eating there? It smells so good”

Looking at me, one of them answered with a smile:

“And it tastes even better, believe me.”

I went to sit at a table close to where they were seated. The rest of the dining room was empty and I didn’t want to be so alone. I’d been on my own the whole time I’d been walking around without talking to anyone and I wasn’t going to clear up many questions that way. I saw that they’d not minded that I had sat close to them, so once I sat down I asked them:

“So where are you both from?”

“From Spain, well from Madrid,” replied the one who seemed older.

“I never would have guessed,” I replied, “you speak Portuguese very well.”

“And where are you from? You don’t seem like you’re from around here either,” she asked me.

“No, I’m not from Portugal, I’m Galician, from Santiago de Compostela,” I answered.

“Also Spanish, well you can’t tell, you also speak Portuguese very well.”

“Well, it’s easier for us to learn, it’s almost the same as our Galician, but you speak it very well, and I think having understood that you’re from Madrid, that’s quite unusual,” I said.

Looking at me, they both said at the same time:

“We’ve come here so many times.”

We all laughed at the coincidence.

“But you don’t learn the language just by visiting a place,” I said when the laughter had died down.

“No, of course not, that’s true, but when one has an interest in the things that have happened in that place, it’s best to learn how they speak in order to find out more about those things, wouldn’t you agree?” the older one asked me, trying to engage in a bit of chat, or so it seemed to me.

“Are you here alone?” the lady who appeared to be the younger of the two then asked.

“I am,” I answered a little surprised by her question.

She turned to me and said, “You can eat with us, if you feel like it.”

“No, don’t worry, I don’t want to bother you.”

“No, you wouldn’t be bothering us at all, it would be better. That way we can talk a little. Well, if you don’t mind.”

I got up and was changing table when the lady came out of the kitchen. She was holding a steaming dish in her hands and when she saw me she said: