“She brought me back from Siberia”

János had been languishing for years in a camp deep in Siberia.

Without the memory of his beloved Ilona Hélène, he would have lost hope long ago. It was thanks to her that he held on to a flicker of hope and resumed the childhood prayers he had once known. They gave him strength. His faith in God and his trust in "the great Lady of the Magyars" were rewarded in a wondrous way. Here is how.

One summer night in 1958, János felt someone tugging at his arm and heard a voice say, "Get up, put on your clothes."

"What did you say?" he asked.

"Get up," the voice repeated, "get dressed. Put on your soldier's boots."

János obeyed… No one else in the barracks stirred. "Come," said the voice, and he felt himself being pulled by the arm. The door creaked open. A guard stood ten paces away, rifle slung across his shoulder. He saw nothing, heard nothing… János and his mysterious guide ran toward the camp's main gate. Spotlights swept across the camp. János was suddenly in full light—instinctively, he froze. But his guide said calmly, "Come, don't be afraid."

And then János saw her for the first time, bathed in the light of the searchlights—the figure leading him out of the camp: a tall Lady wearing a dark blue mantle, her face of striking and radiant whiteness.

Suddenly, the searchlights went out, and the two guards at the entrance saw nothing. The Lady opened the large gate effortlessly. János was nearly paralyzed with fear. "Come quickly," she said.

She shut the gate behind them unhurriedly, as if it were broad daylight.

They moved quickly through the area toward the nearest train station. Twice they passed patrols—none of whom noticed anything unusual.

When they arrived at the station, the Lady said, "In two minutes, a freight train will arrive. Among the cars, there will be a compartment for passengers. You will board it. You don't need a ticket or identification."

Then she handed him a package, saying, "You'll need this for the journey." She added, "Everything will go well in Budapest, too."

The train arrived. As János looked in its direction, the Lady disappeared—to his great regret, as he had so wanted to thank her and say goodbye. The train stopped. János got on. There were few passengers, all asleep. A conductor came by, paused in front of János, but said nothing. János wondered if he was dreaming. Everything seemed surreal. Each time a conductor entered the compartment, János felt as if he would die of fear—but each time, it was as if he were invisible.

Gradually, János began to relax.

He opened the package the Lady had given him: bread, cheese, meat… There was water available in the compartment. The journey lasted four days and four nights. Finally, he reached the Hungarian border.

He had to change trains. No trouble on board, at the station, or in the streets of Budapest. No one seemed to pay him any attention—which was odd, given his prisoner's garb and heavy iron-soled boots that should have drawn notice.

Evening fell as János arrived in front of his house. Would Ilona still be there?

He rang the bell. A stranger opened the door.

"Does Madame Ilona Balogh still live here?" he asked.

"Yes, but in the attic. She'll be home in about half an hour."

Noticing the stranger's unusual appearance, she dared to ask: "Do you have any news of Mr. János Balogh? You know, he's been missing for over twelve years. But his wife Ilona still hopes he'll come back one day. Almost every day she goes to Máriamakk to pray for his return. Of course, she went there again today."

János said nothing. He didn't reveal who he was. He remained outside on the street.

After half an hour, Ilona returned. He recognized her immediately. She, composed and modest, was about to go inside…

"Ilona!" he cried.

"János, oh János! I knew you would come back…"

The next day, they went to Máriamakk to thank the Virgin, Helper of Prisoners. János had never been there before.

When he saw the statue of the Madonna, he exclaimed: "It's her! Yes, I recognize her—it's she who brought me back from Siberia."

To complete the story and show the extent of Mary's care for her prisoner, let us add one more detail. A few days later, János went to the police station to regularize his situation.

"Your papers?"

"I don't have any. I've just come from Russia."

The officer assumed he was a Russian agent sent to inspect operations in Hungary. He issued János identity documents on the spot and, unprompted, even referred him to a contractor who could offer him work.

Moreover, no one ever asked how he had managed to return from Siberia.

Yes, truly, as the Lady had told him: "Everything will go well in Budapest."

Excerpt from the magazine Mater Nostra, 17 rue des Fossés des Tanneurs, Strasbourg. Cited by Brother Albert Pflegerdans in Recueil Marial, 1980.