I was in Europe at Virgin Mary Shrine. I went each day and stared into the face of Mary, who was young and fresh-looking as Michelangelo's Pieta, but was holding infant here, not Christ from Cross). One day she looked at me, warmly. Next time she left and came in the shadow where I stood and kissed me on the mouth (she looked like a student of mine four years ago who is young and virginal, and has reputation of resisting all sexual advances) and walked--almost drifted--back into the white statue. The statue never left during this trip to kiss me. The shrine was high up on top of building with long and straight stairs up, all white stone or painted wood--brilliant white--even roof and rafters or open beams, gothic peaks and pedestal except where long lines of tourist's feet had worn paint off and exposed brown wood below. During the kiss, the tourists in the line did not see her, but she seemed nervous and seemed to say--or said--"Don't let them see us or they will kill both of us." Next "day," another sort of non-sexy kiss that "took my breath away."