It happened in London in the year 1261. The Blessed Virgin, surrounded by countless angels, appeared to Saint Simon Stock of the Carmelite Order and promised him special protection over the Order, at the same time giving him the Scapular of Our Lady of Mount Carmel with this promise: “Receive, my beloved son, the Scapular of your Order, a sign of my confraternity, a privilege for you and for all Carmelites; whoever dies wearing it will be spared from eternal fire. Behold the sign of salvation, salvation in dangers, a covenant of peace and an everlasting pact.”

Later, Pope John XXI confirmed with his authority the Scapular of Carmel and the Sabbatine Privilege, transcribing the following words of the Virgin Mary: “I, Mother of graces, will descend on the Saturday after their death and free all those who are in Purgatory and take them to the holy mountain of eternal life.”

The requirements set by the Church for us to benefit from this promise are:

-Having the scapular imposed by a priest authorized to do so (it is enough once in a lifetime) and wearing it habitually.

-To maintain chastity according to one’s state in life.

-Pray three Hail Marys every day.

There are many miraculous events throughout history that express the Blessed Virgin’s faithfulness to her promise. Cardinal Vicente Enrique y Tarancón recounted what happened when he was Bishop of Solsona, in a pastoral letter about the Carmelite scapular:

“It was June 1938. It had been barely two months since the national forces had reached the Mediterranean, liberating the parish of Vinaroz, where we arrived seven days after the liberation and where we exercised the parish ministry for more than five years.

A dispatch from the military authorities requested our cooperation in providing spiritual assistance to ten men condemned to death, who were to be executed at dawn. At eleven o’clock at night, the condemned men entered the chapel, and from that moment on, the three priests who were then in Vinaròs entered into communication with them, offering them eternal life, since they could not save their earthly lives. Eight of them confessed immediately and with great and visible signs of repentance and fervor. One, who had been a political commissar in the Red Army, barely allowed us to approach him. All our attempts were in vain, and we could not get him to confess.

There was one among them who particularly stood out. He was a man of about sixty, from La Galera, in the province of Tarragona, dressed in the old Catalan peasant attire: white stockings and breeches, but with refined and distinguished manners that seemed to contrast sharply with his rural clothing. One of the priests struck up a conversation with him, while the rest of us attended to the others.

When eight had already confessed and while I was talking to some of them, consoling them in that terrible ordeal and receiving their recommendations and instructions to pass on to their respective families, the assistant priest approached me and whispered in my ear:

-Father: I haven’t been able to get anywhere with that man, why don’t you try?

I went there, and he received me very attentively. I spoke with him for quite some time and immediately realized that he was a cultured man and that he also had an unusual Christian background. These details encouraged me, and I became firmly convinced that it wouldn’t be difficult to get him to go to confession.

But my disappointment was terrible when, after having spoken with him for more than half an hour, he said these exact words to me:

“Look, Father, I sincerely thank you for what you are doing for me. I understand that you are having a bad night because of me, since you will gain nothing from my confession. I am extremely grateful, but I beg you not to insist; I can assure you now that I will not go to confession. I was raised Christian, but I have lost my faith.”

I was stunned for a moment; almost speechless. But, inspired no doubt by the Blessed Virgin, I dared to propose to her:

-Would you do me a favor?

“Whichever you want,” he replied, “as long as you don’t ask me to go to confession.”

“Would you allow me,” I added, “to place the Holy Scapular upon you?”

“I have no objection,” he told me. “These things mean nothing to me; but if it will please you, you may do so.”

I immediately placed the Holy Scapular of Carmel upon him and withdrew to pray for him to the Blessed Virgin Mary. He went to sit in a corner at the end of one of the pews in the room. Not five minutes had passed when I heard a kind of roar and some loud, broken sobs, which alarmed me. I went back into the room and saw the man leaning over me, weeping uncontrollably, and saying to me through his tears:

“I want to go to confession, I want to go to confession. I don’t deserve this grace from God. The Virgin Mary has saved me.”

To the admiration and astonishment of all present, he confessed, without ceasing to shed tears for a single moment, with a truly extraordinary and touching contrition. And, when at the last minute, before taking them to the place of execution, I said goodbye to them, he embraced and kissed me, while saying:

Thank you, Father; thank you for the immense good you have done for me. I will pray for you in Heaven. Thank you, and until we meet in Heaven.

I sincerely confess that I was deeply moved by that scene and that my tears mingled with hers, as I gave thanks to the Lord for that wonder and thanked the Blessed Virgin for allowing me to witness that splendid manifestation of her maternal and merciful love.”