A thorn from Jesus' crown pierces the head of Saint Rita

One of the saints who suffered only one wound from the stigmata of the Crown of Thorns was Santa Rita da Cascia (1381-1457). One day he went with the nuns of his convent to the church of Santa Maria to hear a sermon preached by the blessed. Giacomo of Monte Brandone. The Franciscan friar had a great reputation for culture and eloquence and spoke of Jesus' passion and death, with particular emphasis on the sufferings endured by our Savior's crown of thorns. Moved to tears by her graphic account of these sufferings, she returned to the convent and retired to a small private oratory, where she prostrated herself at the foot of a crucifix. Absorbed in prayer and pain, she refused, out of humility, to ask for the visible wounds of the stigmata as they had been given to St. Francis and other Saints,

Concluding his prayer, he felt one of the thorns, like an arrow of love shot by Jesus, penetrate the flesh and bones in the center of his forehead. Over time, the wound became ugly and revolting for some nuns, so much so that Saint Rita remained in her cell for the next fifteen years of her life, suffering excruciating pain while engaged in divine contemplation. To the pain was added the formation of small worms in the wound. At the time of his death a great light emanated from the wound on his forehead as the little worms turned into sparks of light. Even today the wound is still visible on his forehead, as his body remains wonderfully uncorrupted.

Prayer to Santa Rita

A more detailed explanation of the thorn in Saint Rita's forehead

“Once a Franciscan friar named Beato Giacomo del Monte Brandone came to Cascia to preach in the church of S. Maria. This good father had a great reputation for learning and eloquence, and his words had the power to move the hardest of hearts. Since Saint Rita wanted to hear a preacher celebrated in this way, she, accompanied by other nuns, went to said church. The subject of Father James' sermon was the passion and death of Jesus Christ. With words as if dictated by Heaven, the eloquent Franciscan told the old, old ever new story of the great sufferings of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. But the dominant idea of ​​everything the Franciscan said seemed to be centered on the excessive suffering caused by the crown of thorns.

“The words of the preacher penetrated deeply into the soul of Saint Rita, filled her heart until it overflowed with sadness, tears in her eyes and she wept as if her compassionate heart broke. After the sermon, St. Rita returned to the convent carrying every word that Father James had said about the crown of thorns. After paying a visit to the Blessed Sacrament, Saint Rita retired to a small private oratory, where her body rests today, and, like the wounded heart it was, eager to drink the waters of the Lord to quench the thirst for the sufferings that anxiously craved, he prostrated himself at the foot of a crucifix and began to meditate on the pains suffered by our Savior crown of thorns who penetrated deeply into His sacred temples. And, with the desire to suffer a little of the pain suffered by her divine Spouse, she asked Jesus to give her, at least, one of the many thorns of the crown of thorns that tormented her sacred head, telling him:

The preacher's words penetrated deeply into the soul of Saint Rita,

“Oh my God and crucified Lord! You who were innocent and without sin or crime! You who have suffered so much for my love! You have suffered arrests, blows, insults, a scourging, a crown of thorns and finally a cruel death of the Cross. Why do you want me, your unworthy servant, who was the cause of your suffering and pain, not to share in your suffering? Make me, oh my sweet Jesus, a participant, if not in all of your Passion, at least in a part. Recognizing my unworthiness and my unworthiness, I do not ask you to impress on my body, as you did in the hearts of St. Augustine and St. Francis, the wounds that you still keep as precious rubies in Heaven.

I do not ask You to stamp Your Holy Cross as you did in the heart of Santa Monica. Nor do I ask you to form the instruments of your passion in my heart, as you did in the heart of my holy sister, St. Clare of Montefalco. I'm just asking for one of the seventy-two thorns that pierced your head and caused you so much pain, so that I can feel some of the pain you felt. Oh my loving Savior!