The Miracle Of Fatima

The year 1917 was a sad one for the world. For three years, man had been bitterly experiencing the folly of almost universal war. At first, as with all new experiences, its very novelty gave war a compensating glamour, and the thrill of excitement. But that soon wore off, leaving nothing but the weariness of life at home, ever waiting for news from the trenches, ever waiting for news of peace; and for those at the front, day-long and night-long struggle and fatigue, peril and death. No country in Europe was entirely unaffected by the war. Some countries were fortunate to keep out of it for some time, but eventually they too were caught up in its toils. One such was Portugal. She did not declare herself on the side of the Allies until 1916, and then, she too knew what it was to be a country at war. Lisbon, like the capitals of all the other warring nations had her share of excitement; soldiers going to or returning from the front, anxious to enjoy either their last days on their native soil, or else making the most of a short leave from the trenches.