St. Germaine of Pibrac: Patron of Abused Children, Please Intercede with Our Lord for our little ones!

“The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: to them that dwelt in the region of the shadow of death, light is risen.” (Isaiah 9:2{DRA})
As an Extraordinary Minister of the Holy Eucharist, I have been granted and gifted with and the unimaginable and deeply humbling privilege of conveying Our Dear Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, to our brothers and sisters who are “sharers in the redemptive suffering of Christ”1 and being cared for in the local Hospitals and Rehabilitation Centers here in our local area. This past week, my friend and Co-Minister Fran and I visited the good folks who are receiving treatment at one of our local hospitals. As we made our way from room to room carrying the Holy Sacrament to, praying with and doing our best to be “channels” of, at least, a little bit of Our Lord’s Peace for those people on our list, one of the ladies from the Environmental Cleanliness Department, emerged from the room of a person who’s name did not appear on our roll. She told us that there was a young woman in that room, which she had just finished sanitizing, who really wanted to speak with us.
I therefore, knocked on the door, announced myself, as being a Eucharistic Minister from our parish Church and entered the room. As I did, I caught sight of a young lady of not more than twenty-five years of age, sitting crossed- legged and wide-eyed on her bed. “Good morning!” I said cheerfully and then awaited her reply. From where I stood a few feet from her bedside, I could see that she was clearly experiencing a good deal of discomfort and was really quite ill, but in spite of her pain, she managed a smile. “Are you a priest?” she asked. “No…” I replied. “A Preacher?” she inquired. “No…” said I. “Are you Roman Catholic?” I queried. “No.” she answered. “Protestant?” I invited. “No.” she responded. “Do you believe in God?” I sought. In spite of her woundedness, she, then, reached for the Bible which she had tucked safely in her blanket and delicately turned the pages to St. John 3:16. She then looked up at me brightly and declared with a grin, “I believe in Jesus, Who came into the world and died for me on the cross!” It was then that I saw “The Great Light” shining through her eyes. She then, asked if I’d teach her the Sign of the Cross, and she followed my lead several times to make sure she’d got it right. After chatting a few more brief moments (which was not easy for me at that point with the lump in my throat…) we prayed a parting prayer together and as we did, I heard the Lord wish me “Merry Christmas!” in the silence of my heart.
References
1 Salvifici Doloris, The Letter of St. Pope John Paul II On the Christian Meaning of Human Suffering, 11 February 1984, https://www.ewtn.com/faith/teachings/rdmpc1.htm