"Now, get out!” yelled the Captain. “And woe to the one who dares to return to this den of superstition! He’ll answer to me!”
The church quickly emptied. But besides the angels always present around Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament to adore Him, there stood another witness who had not missed a moment of the drama. It was Father Luke from the Missions Etrangeres (Foreign Missions). One month previously, foreseeing the takeover of the village, the parishioners had hidden him in a small recess of the choir, which gave him a view of the church. He sank into prayers of atonement for the sacrileges committed against Jesus and suffered because he was not able to come to Jesus’ defense: one wrong move on his part, and the parishioners who had hidden him would be arrested for treason.
“Lord, have mercy on Yourself,” he prayed in anguish. “Stop this sacrilege! Lord Jesus!”
Suddenly, a creaking sound broke the heavy silence in the church. Slowly, softly, the door opened. It was little Li! Barely ten years old, there she was, approaching the altar with the tiny steps of a Chinese girl. Father Luke trembled: she could be killed at any moment! Unable to communicate with her, he could only watch and beg all the saints in Heaven to spare this child. The little girl bowed for a moment and adored in silence, just as Sr. Euphrasia had taught her. She stayed with Jesus in adoration for one hour, knowing that she was supposed to prepare her heart before receiving Him. Her hands joined together, she whispered a mysterious prayer to her dear Jesus - mistreated and abandoned. His eyes glued to her, Father Luke stared as she lowered herself down to her hands and knees; and with her tongue, took up one of the Hosts. She remained there on her knees, eyes closed, turned inward face to face with her Heavenly Friend.
Each second seemed an eternity to Father Luke. He feared the worst. If only he could speak to her! But soon the child went out just as quietly as she had come in, almost hopping along.
The purging continued as the volunteer brigade searched the entire village and surrounding area. This type of terror was happening all across “New China.” The peasants didn’t dare to move. Hiding in their bamboo homes, they knew nothing about the future and couldn’t take tomorrow for granted. Yet, every morning our little Li slipped away to find her Living Bread in the church. Reproducing the same scenario from the previous day, each time she adored for one hour and then took up one Host with her tongue and disappeared. Father Luke was chomping at the bit: Why didn’t she take them all? He knew exactly how many there were: thirty-two. “Doesn’t she know she could pick up several of them at once?” he thought.
No, she didn’t know. Sr. Euphrasia had been very clear about that: “One Host per day is enough. And never touch the Host; we receive it on the tongue!” The little girl perfectly conformed to the rules.
One day there remained on the ground only one more Host. At daybreak, the child scurried into the church as usual and drew near to the altar. She knelt to the ground to pray, very close to the Host. Father Luke had to muffle a cry. Suddenly a soldier, standing in the doorway, aimed his gun at her. A single dry pop was heard, followed by a loud burst of laughter. The child immediately collapsed. Father Luke thought she was dead, but no! He watched her struggle and crawl up to the Host, he saw her put her tongue over it. Then, a few convulsions shook her body, before it finally relaxed.
Little Li was dead - but not before she had rescued all the Hosts!
