I discovered my purpose—as an instrument of peace—when I was just a child. Though my early life was marked by hardship and instability, with nights safer spent in a classroom than in my own bed, it was also filled with gifts that gave me deep insight into the suffering of humanity. After completing nursing school, I continued to pursue my lifelong passions for music and writing. At 43, I returned to college—not for nursing, but to follow my heart. I earned a B.S. in English with a minor in theater, and later entered the Graduate Musical Theatre Writing Program at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts. I graduated with an M.F.A. in 1999. That thesis project — The Miracle of Fatima, the musical —became the vessel through which my calling truly flourished. I am the mother of three children: John, Elizabeth, and Bethany. Only Beth remains on this earth. Elizabeth passed away shortly after birth due to a congenital defect. My beloved John, however, lived until the age of 39 and was my greatest champion. The success of The Miracle of Fatima is largely because of him. In the early touring days, it was just the three of us—John, his fiancée Eva Roman, and me—loading our massive set and equipment into a 16-wheeler truck. John handled the setup, lighting, and sound. Eva stage-managed. I ran front-of-house. For six months, we traveled every weekend to fifteen locations. What I didn’t know then was that John was silently suffering. Abused for years by a priest as a young teen, he bore the weight of that trauma in silence throughout the tour. It wasn’t until he told me at age 26 that I learn the extent of it. I went to that priest’s church and met with him face-to-face. He was stunned when I offered him mercy. I said simply, "You offer us both the opportunity to express the true nature of God.” John later received a $500,000 settlement from the diocese, and he donated a large portion of it to support the musical’s development. But the wounds he carried were deep. Despite his devotion to Our Lady of Fatima, despite years of trying to heal, the pain eventually overwhelmed him. On February 17, 2016, John ended his life. I wrestled with my faith after that. But the following year, something extraordinary happened. A woman traveling with the statue of Our Lady of Fatima wrote to say she’d be visiting my parish—for one day only. That day was June 14, 2017—John’s birthday. I sat alone in a pew at St. Mary’s, weeping as I looked upon Her face. And in the stillness, I heard Her voice: "I lost my Son too." From that moment, I knew—I had to continue. I share this deeply personal story to let you know that many times, I’ve said, “No more Fatima. No more Church.” And yet, I am always drawn back—because Her message will not let me go. This year, I turn seventy-three. Today, Blessed Is Her Name — a screenplay I wrote twenty-five years ago—has been reborn as a novel and a multilingual audiobook. And I continue, as I promised Our Beloved Mother, to serve until my last breath. Finally, I offer you this song. "Through You He Lives" came to me in a moment of grace—She sang, and I wrote. We recorded it while creating the cast album. It is Her gift to you, and a testament to why Her message must be shared.