10 Miraculously Bleeding Women Of The 20th Century

If you’ve ever fallen down a late-night internet rabbit hole (no judgment), you’ve probably met the word
stigmata: woundsoften reported as bleedingappearing on a person’s hands, feet, side, or forehead,
echoing the injuries associated with the crucifixion. For believers, these cases can read like a divine Post-it Note:
“I’m still here.” For skeptics, they can look like a complicated cocktail of psychology, physiology, suggestion,
and sometimes plain old human drama.

This article borrows the fun, fast pace of a Listverse-style countdown while doing something a little un-Listverse:
slowing down just enough to talk about context. Who were these women? What exactly was reported? What did
observers claim to seeand what do critics argue instead? Either way, these stories shaped communities, attracted
pilgrims and journalists, and left behind a trail of controversy that still sparks debate.

Before We Count Down: What “Miraculously Bleeding” Usually Means

In the 20th century, the most common “miraculous bleeding” claims linked to women centered on stigmatawounds that
appear cyclically (often on Thursdays/Fridays) or during Holy Week, sometimes alongside ecstatic visions, intense pain,
or reports of surviving with little food. Some accounts were accepted devotionally by followers; others were investigated
and disputed by clergy, physicians, journalists, and skeptical organizations. The same case can contain sincere testimony,
shaky documentation, and a dash of sensationalismsometimes all in one paragraph.

Also, quick reality check: bleeding is a medical symptom, not a brand. There are rare conditions that can resemble
“unexplained” bruising or bleeding, and stress can interact with the body in startling ways. That doesn’t automatically
“solve” any storybut it’s part of the honest landscape.

The Countdown

1. Maria Esperanza
2. Catalina (“Katya”) Rivas
3. Therese Neumann
4. Marthe Robin
5. Elena Aiello
6. Natuzza Evolo
7. Marie Rose Ferron (“Little Rose”)
8. Mary Ann Van Hoof
9. Blessed Alexandrina of Balazar
10. St. Gemma Galgani

10) Maria Esperanza (Venezuela/International)

Why she’s on the list

Maria Esperanza (also known as Maria Esperanza de Bianchini) drew attention through reported mystical experiences
connected to the site of Betania in Venezuela. Accounts surrounding her include claims of stigmata-like bleeding and
a growing devotional movement that attracted international visitors. Even mainstream obituaries noted reports of
spontaneous bleeding from her hands, framing her within the broader history of stigmata claims.

Why the story persists

Her legacy isn’t just “did it happen?” It’s also “what did people do because they believed it happened?” Pilgrimages,
prayer gatherings, and a persistent folk memory can outlast the original headlines.

9) Catalina (“Katya”) Rivas (Bolivia)

Why she’s on the list

Catalina Rivas became internationally known in the late 20th century for reported mystical experiences and for
appearing in televised segments tied to stigmata claims. Coverage and criticism often focused on how footage was
presentedshowing the aftermath more than the momentleaving a big “show me the receipts” gap that skeptics highlighted.

The debate in one sentence

Devotees saw a sign; critics saw editing, opportunity for concealment, and a storyline designed to feel like proof.

8) Therese Neumann (Germany)

Why she’s on the list

Therese Neumann (Konnersreuth) is one of the most documented 20th-century stigmatic figures, with reports of bleeding
wounds and Holy Week episodes that drew observersreligious and medical alike. Her story includes investigations,
disputes over what was actually witnessed, and later scholarly interpretations that explored psychological mechanisms
as possible explanations.

What makes her case “sticky”

Neumann’s case sits at the intersection of intense piety, local community identity, and outside scrutiny. It’s the kind
of story that refuses to stay in one box: miracle narrative, medical mystery, or cultural phenomenon.

7) Marthe Robin (France)

Why she’s on the list

Marthe Robin was reported to experience weekly Passion reenactments and stigmata-like suffering over decades, while
living bedridden and becoming a spiritual influence through counsel and the founding of the Foyers de Charité movement.
Her Church cause advanced to “Venerable,” reflecting the seriousness with which her life’s holiness was evaluated,
even as questions about extraordinary claims continued to swirl.

Why the story is complicated

Robin is a reminder that religious reputation isn’t built only on phenomena. Many admirers focus less on bleeding
and more on perceived spiritual fruitretreats, conversions, and a charismatic movement that spread far beyond one room.

6) Elena Aiello (Italy)

Why she’s on the list

Elena Aiello, a religious founder later beatified, is associated in biographies with reported wounds and suffering
framed as participation in Christ’s Passion. Her beatification placed her firmly on the “officially significant” side
of Catholic history, which is exactly why her case remains widely discussedboth by believers and by researchers who
analyze how such phenomena are interpreted and documented.

Specific example

Vatican messaging around her beatification explicitly highlighted her life and spiritual witness, which many supporters
see as the main pointwhile the extraordinary elements remain the most clickable headline.

5) Natuzza Evolo (Italy)

Why she’s on the list

Natuzza Evolo is linked to reports of stigmata and unusual “blood writing” claims (often discussed under the term
hemography). She became a major devotional figure in Calabria, with stories emphasizing compassion, counsel, and
experiences interpreted as supernatural signs.

The skeptic’s angle

Some medical discussions around “unexplained” bruising and bleeding in other contexts point to rare psychodermatologic
conditions (for example, psychogenic purpura/autoerythrocyte sensitization) as one possible framework for understanding
at least some “mysterious bleeding” reportswithout claiming that any one condition explains any one person.

4) Marie Rose Ferron (“Little Rose”) (United States)

Why she’s on the list

Marie Rose Ferron lived in Woonsocket, Rhode Island, and became famous among devotees as “Little Rose,” with claims
that she bled in patterns resembling Passion wounds. Her story remained vivid in local memoryso much so that she was
later honored in Rhode Island’s Heritage Hall of Fame, and modern reporting still revisits the devotion surrounding her.

Why her case stands out

Ferron’s story shows how a “miraculous bleeding” narrative can become a regional identity markerpart faith, part
folklore, part family history, part newspaper archive.

3) Mary Ann Van Hoof (United States)

Why she’s on the list

Mary Ann Van Hoof is best known for reported Marian apparitions in Wisconsin that drew massive crowdsan American
moment of religious expectation so big it became national-story material. Accounts around the Necedah events included
claims of phenomena beyond visions, while Church investigation and later commentary emphasized serious concerns and
rejection of authenticity.

Why it matters culturally

Even when authorities reject a claim, the community story can keep goingsometimes splitting into “official” history
and “lived” devotion that persists on the ground.

2) Blessed Alexandrina of Balazar (Portugal)

Why she’s on the list

Alexandrina Maria da Costa (Blessed Alexandrina) is associated with intense Friday Passion experiences and claims of
prolonged fasting supported only by the Eucharist, themes that often travel alongside stigmata narratives in 20th-century
Catholic devotion. Official Vatican biography material and Catholic outlets emphasize her suffering offered as spiritual
reparation and her later recognition by the Church.

What readers often miss

The “miraculous bleeding” hook can overshadow the deeper spiritual framing her supporters emphasize: a life interpreted
as meaningful suffering, not performance.

1) St. Gemma Galgani (Italy)

Why she’s on the list

Gemma Galgani technically straddles the calendar (her stigmata reports began in the late 1890s, and she died in 1903),
but she’s often treated as a key bridge into modern stigmata storytellingbecause her case became widely popular in the
20th century through biographies, devotion, and Catholic media. Accounts commonly describe periodic wounds appearing and
bleeding, especially around Thursday night into Friday.

Why she’s the “final boss” of this genre

Gemma is a reminder that these stories aren’t just about bloodthey’re about interpretation. The same reported wound can
function as miracle, metaphor, or medical question depending on who’s looking.

So…Miracle, Mystery, or Something Else?

The honest answer is: different observers land in different places, often based on what kind of evidence they trust and
what they think the phenomenon is supposed to mean. Religious sources tend to interpret stigmata as participation
in Christ’s suffering. Skeptical and scientific sources often emphasize how expectation, stress, rare medical conditions,
and suggestibility can influence bodiesand how extraordinary claims require extraordinarily careful documentation.

If you’re reading this for inspiration, you’re not alone. If you’re reading this like a detective with a magnifying glass,
you’re also not alone. Either way, the 20th century gave us a unique mix: modern media plus ancient longing for signs,
creating stories that still refuse to die quietly.

Reader Experiences: What It’s Like to Encounter These Stories Today (Extra Section)

People who go looking for “miraculously bleeding women” stories in the modern era often describe the same emotional
whiplash: fascination, discomfort, sympathy, and (sometimes) the sudden urge to close every browser tab and take a long,
normal walk where no one is bleeding at all.

One common experience is the pilgrimage vibeeven if you never board a plane. You start with a name,
then a town, then a photograph, then a newspaper clipping, and suddenly you’re mapping little dots across Europe and
the Americas: Konnersreuth, Châteauneuf-de-Galaure, Calabria, Woonsocket, rural Wisconsin. For believers, that map can
feel like a trail of grace. For skeptics, it can feel like a trail of claims that got bigger every time a reporter
showed up with a notebook.

Another recurring experience is how intensely human these accounts feel. Even in the most supernatural
versions, the women are often portrayed as tired, in pain, and surrounded by peoplefamily members, clergy, doctors,
followerswho interpret every sigh as a clue. Readers frequently report that the “mystery” becomes secondary to the
emotional weight: a bedridden life, a community on edge, the question of consent when someone becomes famous for their
suffering.

If you talk to people who grew up near one of these stories (especially the American ones), you’ll often hear a
local-history tone: “My grandmother remembered the crowds,” or “My neighbor swore it was real,” or
“My uncle said the church shut it down.” It’s the kind of folklore that behaves like weather: everyone has an opinion,
and nobody agrees on the forecast.

Then there’s the media effect. Modern readers are used to high-definition proof, continuous footage,
and timestampsso older cases can feel frustrating. You may find yourself thinking, “Okay, but where’s the clean data?”
only to realize that many of these stories were never built for data. They were built for meaning: sermons, diaries,
testimonies, and the kind of secondhand certainty that thrives in a crowded room.

Finally, many readers report a surprising outcome: the stories become mirrors. If you already lean
toward faith, you’ll notice the compassion, the devotion, the spiritual language. If you lean toward skepticism, you’ll
notice the gaps, the incentives, the psychological plausibility. And if you’re in the messy middle (the world’s largest
club), you’ll probably feel both at oncebecause humans are complicated, bodies are complicated, and the 20th century
was basically a loudspeaker pointed at mysteries that used to stay local.

Either way, encountering these stories tends to leave people with one lasting thought: whether you call it miracle,
mystery, or misunderstanding, the real “phenomenon” might be how desperately we want suffering to mean somethingand how
quickly a good story can turn one person’s wounds into a global argument.