Praised be Jesus and Mary, now and forever.
St. Veronica Giuliani was born on December 27, 1660 in Mercatello, in the heart of Italy. That day was the feast of St. John, who wrote, "By this we know love, that he, Christ, laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers". This is the program of her life, imitating the self-sacrificing love of Christ. 
The day after her birth on the Feast of the Holy Innocents, she was baptized Ursula, after St. Ursula, the leader of a group of virgin martyrs. She too would be a virgin, but her martyrdom would be like St. John's. She would not die a martyr, but live a martyr, because dying would put an end to the sufferings by which she saved souls and conformed herself to Christ. 
Her father was a prominent and well-paid government official, and her mother was a woman of prayer, and so it was a good home. 
As the youngest child, she was especially loved, but Ursula was no ordinary girl. Already when she was two, pictures of the Virgin and Child would come alive, and Jesus would come out to play with her. The family listened to the lives of the saints, and Ursula wanted to suffer as they did, to imitate them, but she was too young to make a reasoned decision about following their example. 
She was the last of seven children, all girls. Two died at an early age, leaving five when her mother died in 1666. Before she died, the devout woman entrusted each of her daughters to one of Jesus' five wounds. The last one, Ursula, only five, was entrusted to the wound in Jesus' side. She would find treasures there, including the ring of her mystical marriage. 
Two of her sisters became Poor Clares, and Ursula wanted to become a Poor Clare too, but not in that monastery, rather with the Capuchin Reform, with its intense poverty and penance. Everyone said that wasn't for her. She'd grown up in a wealthy family with servants and comforts, but out of love for Jesus, she wanted to live a crucified life. 
Her father doted on her and didn't want to lose her to the cloister, so he tried to enchant her with the pleasures of the world and opportunities for marriage, but her heart was set on becoming a nun, becoming the spouse of Christ.
When she was 16, she visited the monastery in Città di Castello, which had a vacancy. She spoke to the bishop who was reluctant to give her the place. As a nun, she would have to pray the divine office in Latin, so the bishop handed her a breviary to read aloud as a test. She did well, which was a miracle because she had never studied. 
After a few months, she returned to enter the monastery as a novice. She was clothed in the habit and given the name Veronica. The bishop, a Carmelite, was inspired to give her this name, which means "true image," to this girl who would become a true image of Christ. 
She had grown up with fine clothes and jewelry, surrounded by art, furniture, music, and people who loved her, and now she found herself alone in a spartan cell dressed in rough brown cloth. She felt a natural repulsion and a desire to leave. Not even the prayer in the community was satisfying to her, but she paid no heed to these feelings. 
By constantly acting against her natural inclinations, day after day, year after year, she died to self so that Christ could live in her. She was guided by her novice mistress, her abbess, and her confessors, but also by voices that encouraged her to make additional sacrifices. She submitted these inspirations to the judgment of her confessor or superiors as appropriate, only doing what obedience allowed, but it allowed her a lot. Due to her remarkable growth in holiness, at age 27, she became the novice mistress.
Five years later, the monastery's confessor ordered her to begin a diary, putting her experiences into writing as much as possible. This was a hard obedience for more than one reason. Her humility made her reluctant to reveal the work of God in her soul. Mystical experiences can be hard to express in human language even if you want to, and St. Veronica had never studied. She could hardly write. She had little time to write. She had to do it at night when it would be time to sleep, and sometimes demons would come to keep her from writing, blowing out the candle or spilling ink on what she'd just written. By now, however, she was used to their antics. They hated her intensely because her prayers and penance kept winning back souls from their grasp. 
To save souls is not so much suffering as love, but love bruises authenticity by being ready to suffer. Sometimes the evil spirits appeared to her in visible form, and sometimes she would just hear her voices. They tried to convince her that she was damned or would threaten to make her pay for it if she didn't stop trying to save souls. 
She answered them one time, "Strike me, do what God wants,” that is, “you can only do what God permits, so whatever God permits you to do, do it to me. I am his, and I desire nothing more than to do his will. Invent all forms of pain as you wish. I want them. I will love and express and embrace him fully. I want him alone and want all men and women to love him. And you unhappy ones who have lost such a precious treasure, away, depart. I do not listen to you. I belong only, I belong entirely to Jesus."
The diary had begun just in time to record her mystical marriage to Christ, which took place at Easter 1694, a few months after she started the diary. In a vision, Jesus and Mary put a precious ring on her finger as a sign that she belonged forever to him. Spiritual theology identifies the mystical marriage as a sign of entrance into the transforming union, the highest stage of growth in prayer. 
St. Veronica always longed to suffer as Christ had. Already in 1681, he had placed the crown of thorns on her head. On another occasion, he had given her his cross with its crushing weight. But she longed to bear the five wounds of Christ in her body. She begged Christ for this grace and saw Mary interceding for her. 
On Good Friday, 1697, she finally received this immense grace by Our Lady's intercession. In a vision, she saw five rays come towards her from the five wounds of Christ and pierce her hands, feet, and side. Now she could truly say with her beloved St. Paul, "I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me". 
She wanted the wounds to be invisible. She only wanted the suffering, not the attention of others, but this was not granted her. Those wounds had to be seen for the glory of God and to remind people of Christ's passion. To the torment she felt in her body, other sufferings would soon be added. Christ warned her to prepare herself. St. Veronica's abbess decided that she was a proud nun and the stigmata couldn't be real for this reason. So she notified the Holy Office, also known as the Inquisition, which thoroughly investigated the phenomena in conjunction with the bishop. 
St. Veronica was removed from the position of novice mistress. This lasted five years, and it was another 13 years before all the restrictions placed on her were removed. 
Through it all, she kept writing her diary, which eventually consisted of 20,000 handwritten pages, an unequaled record of the spiritual life of a saint. The year after the stigmata was the last one in which she mentioned extraordinary penances in her diary. Her sufferings now became more interior and more profound. Doing penance had brought a certain satisfaction. 
Now she advanced toward pure suffering, with no satisfaction at all, just pain and desolation. Yet neither this nor the endless investigations caused her to become impatient or despondent. The sign of heroic virtue was one factor that convinced the Holy Office that the extraordinary phenomena in her life were indeed produced by the finger of God.
In 1716, a month after the Holy Office removed all restrictions, she was elected abbess, an office she continued to hold until her death. She felt unworthy of the office, but Our Lady assured her that she would be the real abbess. And indeed, she guided her in all the decisions that she had to make, in what she was to say when she taught the nuns, and in many other things. 
St. Veronica also continued to serve as novice mistress. No one could form holy nuns like she could. Her first or her best disciple was Blessed Florida Cevoli, who served as her vicar. 
Age and a life of suffering took their toll on her. Keeping up with the diary became difficult, and in 1720, Our Lady began dictating to St. Veronica what she was to write. St. Veronica's stigmata opened and closed as God willed, leaving no scar when they were closed. On September 17, 1726, the Feast of the Stigmata of St. Francis, St. Veronica's stigmata bled for the last time. 
On June 6 of the following year, 1727, she collapsed as she was coming back to her place after communion. She had had a stroke. She said in a weak voice, "I'm going," and asked permission to die, but it was denied. A daughter of obedience like her couldn't die without permission, and so she remained dying and unable to die. This agony lasted thirty-three days, as had been revealed to her beforehand. God wanted this last terrible triple purgatory for the salvation of souls. 
Near the end, she had an ecstasy. Her last words were, "I have found love. Love has let himself be seen." With the priest's permission, she finally left this world to enter eternal glory. 
Praised be Jesus and Mary, now and forever.