What do the Weeping Madonna of Mariapoch Shrine and 18th-century pioneers traveling west from New England have in common?

They both came long distances to settle in the small town of Burton, Ohio.

Our Lady traveled the greater distance – all the way from Eastern Europe, in fact – to arrive in what was called the Western Reserve. But then, she is used to traveling, as the May 31 feast of the Visitation reminds us!

Before this huge chunk of land was ceded to the state in 1800, it was actually considered the western territory of Connecticut.

As we pulled into Burton after a 45-minute drive east from Cleveland, we were surprised it had the look and feel of a small New England town, complete with village green. No wonder, since it was the first town in the Reserve founded by those Connecticut settlers. But they didn't give Burton its nickname of “Pancake Town USA.” And don't be surprised to see Amish folk driving horse-drawn buggies in these parts.

Of course the best surprise is in the countryside, a leisurely three miles from the green, where the Weeping Madonna of Mariapoch Shrine (pronounced “Maria-poshe“) settles on 50 acres of woodlands, fields and lawns. This American counterpart isn't meant to be an exact replica of the original in Hungary, where the village church enshrining the icon of the Weeping Madonna was named a minor basilica in 1948. About a half-million Hungarians defied communists by turning out for that celebration.

Not being at all familiar with our Blessed Mother under this title, we were eager to find out how she received it. The story, we learned, begins more than 300 years ago.

The Gift of Tears

In 1698, Hungarian bishops accepted the supernatural authenticity of the weeping icon of the Madonna. In 1696, two years before their declaration, as Turks were overrunning Hungary, epidemics and starvation plagued the population, and Calvinism was drawing many from the faith, Our Lady began to shed tears.

A Greek-styled icon of our Blessed Mother in the small village of what then was named Pochformed tears. They trickled down her cheeks for 18 days, from Nov. 4 through Dec. 8 – a day the Church would eventually choose to celebrate her Immaculate Conception.

Villagers from all around streamed to the church to witness this phenomenon and pray before the icon. Crowds witnessed many miracles; visitors converted on the spot. One of these was a Turkish soldier who asked to be baptized immediately once he gazed on the weeping icon. Another was a Calvinist who burned with fever and watched the icon darken as he tried to touch the tears. At once he recanted his heresy and returned to the faith.

Shortly after the bishops declared the tears authentic, Leopold, the Austrian Emperor and King of Hungary, called for a procession with the icon from the village to Vienna because Turks were besieging the city. At the sight of the Weeping Madonna, the Viennese knelt in the streets and begged for her intervention.

The Weeping Madonna was enshrined in St. Stephen's Basilica in Vienna and an exact copy of it was painted for the village church in Poch – soon renamed Mariapoch. In 1715, this duplicate also began to weep. A second time, the bishops declared the weeping supernatural. Miraculously, prayers were recorded, heresies stopped and schismatics quickly returned to the fold in large numbers.

Mass pilgrimages followed, gaining momentum when the icon wept a third time in December 1905. Today the faithful come to this American counterpart in Ohio, also called the National Shrine of Our Lady of Mariapoch.

Happy Accident

After the small brick year-round chapel was dedicated in 1956, the shrine continued to grow. The main outdoor chapel is the focus of attention during the shrine season from the first Sunday of May to the first Sunday of October. The chapel with bench pews is a pavilion that's half open-air, half roofed. Since this chapel and all the additional smaller outdoor shrines are well along an extended drive off a quiet country road, the shrine is secluded and peaceful.

The pavilion chapel is the first stop. Three brick arches with decorative wrought-iron gates open to the altars inside. The tabernacle is at the center; above it is the shrine's central large icon of our Blessed Mother. Two smaller icons flank it. One is a copy of the original 17th-century Weeping Madonna of Mariapoch, while the other replicates the first copy for the village church that also wept in 1715.

We wondered why the large center icon didn't look exactly like the original. Sister Flora, one of the only two Social Mission Sisters from Hungary in this country – both care for the shrine – explained that it was painted in Rome and modeled after one attributed to St. Luke, as was the original Weeping Madonna. It depicts Mary with the title “Salvation of the Roman People.” Though there was this “mistake” during the painting, the shrine didn't send it back to Rome because they decided it was a beautiful rendition for Ohio.

In the 40 years Sister Flora has been with the shrine, she's seen miraculous answers occur on this side of the Atlantic. In one case, a young mother medically unable to have children came to the shrine faithfully for a year, attending the blessings of the sick, and now has four youngsters. In other cases, a crippled man was able to walk away by himself. Other people had their cancerous tumors disappear.

Besides the main season's outdoor chapel and the oratory now done in Byzantine icon style (the shrine follows the Byzantine Catholic rite), other outdoor sites on the grounds become added spiritual beacons for visitors and pilgrims. They begin with the Stations of the Cross, the Stations of the Sorrowful Mother and the Calvary pavilion behind the shrine.

Then wayside shrines radiate out from Our Lady of Mariapoch chapel. Visitors can easily stroll to these outer shrines dedicated to Our Lady of Lourdes, St. Joseph, the Holy Family, the Sacred Heart, St. Ann, St. Anthony and the Infant of Prague. All around the Shrine of Our Weeping Madonna of Mariapoch there is peace aplenty – and plenty of opportunities to contemplate not only Our Lady's sorrows but also her joys and glories.

Joseph Pronechen writes from Trumbull, Connecticut.