Laetitia Puthenpadath reflects on the role of Mary in Ignatius’ life. Laetitia is a Spiritual Director and Giver of the Spiritual Exercises in Auckland New Zealand.

Ignatius had a deep and tender love for Mary. It seems fitting that she accompanies us as guide and companion, just as she accompanied Ignatius through so much of his life.

When I reflect on Ignatius’ early years at Loyola, I often imagine Mary watching over the wounded little boy, Iñigo. She would have recognised something familiar in him: vulnerability, longing, spirit, possibility. Perhaps she understood him in a way others did not.

I like to imagine Mary and the infant Jesus together in ordinary moments of daily life. Mary nursing Jesus. Holding him. Rocking him to sleep. Watching over him with quiet attentiveness. Jesus curls into her warmth, looks into her eyes, hears her voice, and slowly comes to know himself as loved, safe, and alive.

Modern psychology tells us how important these early bonds are in shaping the human person. Long before words, we learn through love, touch, presence, and care. We become who we are through relationship.

Jesus, fully human as well as divine, was nurtured in this way by Mary.

And perhaps this same nurturing presence accompanied Ignatius. His own mother died when he was very young, and much of his childhood was marked by absence rather than tenderness. Yet during his long recovery at Loyola after the cannonball injury, Ignatius encountered another kind of mothering presence. He was cared for by Magdalena, his brother’s wife, during those difficult months of pain and healing. And through his growing devotion to Mary, he also began to experience a deeper spiritual tenderness — a sense of being accompanied, held, and guided.

One night, Ignatius experienced a vision of Mary with the child Jesus. The experience stayed with him deeply and marked a turning point in his conversion. Something in him softened. A new direction slowly emerged.

Mary continued to accompany Ignatius throughout his life. He visited shrines dedicated to her, entrusted his journey to her care, and continually found in her a path leading him closer to Jesus.

Perhaps Mary offers us something similar.

Not dramatic answers or certainty, but a quiet, nurturing presence. A reminder that we are loved into life. That God comes close through tenderness, patience, and accompaniment. That healing often begins simply by being held with compassion.

Mary nurtured Jesus. Mary nurtured Ignatius.

And perhaps, in ways both seen and unseen, she nurtures us too.