The Martyrdom

No one could possibly say that she hadn’t suffered for her faith, the faith she had in America. Oh, how she suffered. As the arrows did pierce the tender breast of Sebastian, as the skin was peeled from brave Bartholomew, so did Hillary suffer. The ignominy of defeat at the short-fingered hands of Donald Trump would have been more than a lesser person–a Gore, say, or a Biden–could have possibly survived. To have Her Election stolen, to have been Betrayed by the Jew Zuckerberg and the Godless Russians and the Traitor Comey was Calumny and Disaster. It was Her Turn and in Denial thus was Hillary Martyred.

To be denied Her Turn was a living death, but, cruelly, did the Church wait for her actual death before giving her the honor she deserved. And when that box that supposedly held Her Body was lowered into the ground, the process was begun.

 

The Trial

Who could say that Hillary was not a Servant of God? Her Deeds, Her Works, Her Words, Her Thoughts leave no doubt that She was a Servant of God. She sought to heal the sick. She sought to shatter the glass ceiling. She battled the Bearded Patriarchs in their lair. She graciously stepped aside for the Black Man to be President.

And who could say She was not heroic in Her virtue? Did she not defend Her marriage against all who would assault it? Did She not serve Her Country, Her People with no thought of personal gain? Did She not know poverty and abjection? Did She not wander in the Wilderness?

Being Venerable, it was appropriate and correct for those who loved Her to pray for Intercession. A blind Black Child who kissed Her Grave was restored of sight! A prayer to Our Lady of the Turkey Neck did cause the ICE handcuffs on a Dreamer to spring open! The pleading of a non-binary labor organizer resulted in them petition being filled with signatures without their even having to leave they van! At the very beginning of Foul Trump’s 2nd Inauguration Speech, Her statue at Yale began to menstruate!

 

Advocatus diaboli nullus

Unsure of what to make of all this, Commie Pope sent an old priest and a young priest to investigate. They were appropriately suspicious of this Methodist who was clearly a Catholic saint. But, Lo, what did they find? The blind child could now see. The Dreamer did go free. The Girl with the Ugly Haircut did have a filled petition. Clots did flow sluggishly from cloven stone.

What choice was left?

 

Hillary, Our Lady of Sorrows, Patron Saint of Stolen Elections, forgive us our trespasses as we must never forgive those who have trespassed against You. Lead us from the Temptations of Fake News paid for by Putinbots and the baskets of the Deplorable Nation. Beset on all sides by enemies, lend us Your Strength, Sweet Lady. Amen.