Catharine was the daughter of noble parents. Her father, John Vigri, was high in favour with Nicholas d'Este, prince of Ferrara. She was born on the Nativity of the B. Virgin, 1412, at Bologna, where she spent her childhood; but growing up to girlhood she removed with her parents to Ferrara, and became the associate of Margaret, daughter of the prince. At the age of eleven she joined the order of the Poor Clares, and entered the convent of that society in Bologna, with the consent of her parents. "Thus withdrawn from all terrestral occupations," says her biographer, "she began to serve God with such fervour of soul, that all began to marvel at her. So great was her gentleness, so great her reverence and obedience towards others, as long as she lived, that she soon became beloved and pleasant to all, and almost venerable in her early girlhood. Wherever she was, and with whomsoever she conversed, she spoke either of God or with God, so that, though her body was on earth, her soul was ever in heaven. And although she was tormented with grievous temptations which tried her almost out of measure, yet was she always of a glad countenance." She grew daily more devoted to prayer; and her greatest delight was to spend many hours in close communing with God. One Christmas Eve she obtained permission to spend the night in the church, having resolved to recite a thousand times the Angelic Salutation in honour of her who that night bore the Saviour of the world. The hours glided away in the church in all stillness, save for the click of the beads in Catharine's fingers, and in all darkness, save for the glimmer of the red lamp before the Blessed Sacrament. Suddenly, a glory filled the church, and she saw before her the holy Mother bearing her infant Son in her bosom, and smiling on the young religious, S. Mary laid the child Jesus in her arms. It was a moment of supreme felicity, and one painters have loved to recall, as she held to her heart her Redeemer and God, and looked down on His radiant face. Then, trembling between love and fear, she bent her lips to his mouth, and instantly all was dark; the vision had fled. When she returned to her cell she wrote down what she had seen on the margin of her breviary, where it was found after her death.