On July 14, 1994, Fred and Bonnie Mott and their two young sons
visited a wooded site in Seven Hills, Ohio. It had been rumored
that a young woman was having visions of the Blessed Virgin Mary
there and, although they knew the Catholic Church had not yet
officially investigated the events, the Motts wanted to pray
there. They stayed at a farmhouse the night before the expected
vision, and said the rosary with several other visitors.
Seven-year-old Alex and six-year-old David were fidgety and
restless throughout the prayers, and thought the entire evening
was terribly boring. By the time they left for the apparition
site the next evening, Bunny was wishing she had left them home.
It had rained earlier and as the family walked through the
woods, the mosquitos attacked them in clouds. Flushed and
overheated, Alex and Dave raced around, chasing after a fawn
that had been spotted behind a tree, shouting and arguing. As
the rosary started, Bunny dragged them over to her side,
resisting the impulse to scream. This trip was becoming a
nightmare.
But to her surprise, as the seventy or so people there began to
recite the rosary, David and Alex suddenly calmed down. In fact,
they didn't move for the next hour, except to stand up with
everyone else when the visionary announced that Mary, the mother
of Jesus, was in their presence. It was a far cry from their
behavior for the past two days.
None of the assembly seemed to see anything unusual. When prayer
time was over, the Motts walked to their car, and decided to
stop for a bite on the road on their way home. The boys were
unusually docile, Bunny noticed; in fact, neither had spoken a
word since the prayers had started. The family found a fast food
place, parked and went inside. The air conditioning was
welcome.. Finally, after the family had ordered, Alex broke the
silence."Mom, how did they make the clouds open up like
that?" he asked.
Bunny was startled. "What do you mean, Alex?"
"When the blue thing came down. How did it get through the
clouds?"
Bunny and Fred looked at each other, both sensing the importance
of the moment. "Can you tell us what the 'blue thing' looked
like?" Fred asked carefully.
"It was the thing the lady was wearing on her head," Alex
explained.
David looked up. "She had on a blue dress too," he added.
"But lighter," Alex said. "Lighter blue than the thing on her
head." David nodded.
Were their sons telling the truth? Had they actually seen
something--someone--on the hill? Fred decided to question them
separately, before they had a chance to compare notes.
And so he did. Over the next few days, Fred carefully quizzed
his sons on the details of their experience, and they answered
without hesitation or apparent concern, and without conferring
with one another. Both had apparently seen a lady at the site,
and each described her clothes (including the 'blue thing'--a
mantle on her head) and movements in much the same way, and drew
similar pictures. They had also seen angels; David's were little
cherubs "with bright circles above their heads," while Alex saw
five large spirits wearing colors "like a rainbow, only not as
shiny." Neither child had been at all afraid--of the lady or the
experience.
"At first I hesitated to believe that such a thing could
happen," Fred admits. "But now I have no doubt that the boys saw
a vision. Maybe their slightly different views of angels was
deliberate, so skeptics would not be able to say that they
copied from each other."
Why would such a thing happen? Fred has no idea. "But we will
regard it forever as a gift from heaven."
c 2002 Joan Wester Anderson www.joanwanderson.com |
