Chapter 1 #

¹ It is to you, my revered Mother, that I have come to entrust the story of my soul. The day you asked me, it seemed to me that it would dispel my heart. But since then, Jesus has made me feel that by simply obeying I would please Him. So, I’m going to start singing what I must repeat eternally: the mercies of the Lord!

² Before taking up my pen, I knelt in front of the statue of Mary: the one who gave my family so much proof of the maternal preferences of the Queen of Heaven. I begged her to guide my hand, so as not to trace a single line that would not be pleasing to her. Then, opening the holy Gospel, my eyes fell on these words: “Jesus, having gone up on a mountain, called to himself those whom he pleased.” This is indeed the mystery of my vocation, of my entire life; and above all the mystery of the privileges of Jesus on my soul. He does not call those who are worthy, but those whom he pleases. As St. Paul says: “God has mercy on whom he will, and he has mercy on whom he will have mercy. Therefore, it is not the work of him who wills, nor of him who runs, but of God who shows mercy.”

³ For a long time, I wondered why the good Lord had preferences, why all souls did not receive an equal measure of grace. I was astonished to see him lavish extraordinary favors on great sinners like Saint Paul, Saint Augustine, Saint Madeleine, and so many others whom he forced, so to speak, to receive his graces. I was still astonished, when reading the lives of the saints, to see Our Lord caress certain privileged souls from the cradle to the grave, without leaving in their path any obstacle which would prevent them from rising towards Him, never allowing sin to tarnish the immaculate shine of their baptismal dress. I wondered why poor savages, for example, died in large numbers without even hearing the name of God pronounced.

⁴ Jesus deigned to instruct me in this mystery. He put the book of nature before my eyes, and I understood that all the flowers created by him are beautiful, that the brightness of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not take away the scent of the little violet, nor the delightful simplicity of the daisy. I understood that, if all the little flowers wanted to be roses, nature would lose its spring adornment, the fields would no longer be dotted with flowers.

⁵ So it is in the world of souls, this living garden of the Lord. He found it good to create great saints who can be compared to lilies and roses. But he also created smaller ones, which must be content to be daisies or simple violets intended to delight his divine gaze when he lowers himself to them. The happier the flowers are to do His will, the more perfect they are.

⁶ I understood something else too… I understood that the love of Our Lord is revealed as well in the simplest soul, which in no way resists his graces, as in the most splendid. Indeed, the characteristic of love is to humble itself. If all souls resembled those of the holy Doctors who illuminated the Church, it seems that the good Lord would not descend low enough by coming to them. But he created the child who knows nothing and only makes faint cries. He created the poor savage having only natural law to guide him, and it is to their hearts that he deigns to stoop!

⁷ These are the flowers of the fields whose simplicity delights him; and, by this action of stooping so low, the Lord shows his infinite greatness. Just as the sun illuminates both the cedar and the little flower, likewise, the divine Star particularly illuminates each soul, large or small, and everything corresponds to its good. As in nature, the seasons are arranged in such a way as to make the humblest daisy bloom on the appointed day.

⁸ No doubt, Mother, you are wondering with astonishment where I am going with this, for, up to now, I have not yet said anything that resembles the story of my life. But did you not order me to write without constraint what would naturally come to mind? It is therefore not my life strictly speaking that you will find in these pages. These are my thoughts on the graces that Our Lord has deigned to grant me.

⁹ I find myself at a time in my life where I can look back on the past. My soul matured in the crucible of interior and exterior trials. Now, like the flower after the storm, I raise my head, and I see that the words of the psalm are fulfilled for me:

¹⁰ “The Lord is my Shepherd; I will lack nothing. He lets me rest in pleasant and fertile pastures. He leads me gently along the waters. He leads my soul without tiring it… But even though I go down into the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, because you are with me, Lord!”

¹¹ Yes, the Lord has always been compassionate and gentle to me, slow to punish, and abundant in mercies! Also, I feel real happiness in coming to sing near you, my Mother, of His ineffable benefits. It is for you alone that I will write the story of the little flower picked by Jesus. This thought will help me to speak with abandon, without worrying about the style or the numerous digressions that I will make. A mother’s heart understands her child, even though he only knows how to stutter. So, I am sure of being understood and guessed.

¹² If a little flower could speak, it seems to me that it would simply say what the good Lord has done for it, without trying to hide His gifts. Under the pretext of humility, she would not say that she is unsightly and without perfume, that the sun has tarnished her shine, that the storms have broken her stem, when she would recognize in herself quite the opposite.

¹³ The flower which is going to tell its story rejoices in having to publish the completely gratuitous attentions of Jesus. She recognizes that nothing in her was capable of attracting His divine gaze, that His mercy alone filled her with good things. It was He who gave birth to it in a holy land, imbued with a virginal perfume. It was He who preceded it with eight dazzling white lilies. In His love, He wanted to preserve it from the poisonous breath of the world: its corolla had barely begun to open when this good Master transplanted it to the mountain of Carmel, in the chosen garden of the Virgin Mary.

¹⁴ I have just, Mother, summarized in a few words what the good Lord has done for me. Now I will go into detail about my life as a child: I know that, where everyone else would only see a boring story, your maternal heart will find charms.

¹⁵ In the history of my soul until my entry into Carmel, I distinguish three well-marked periods: the first, despite its short duration, is not the least fruitful in memories. It extends from the awakening of my reason until the departure of my dear mother for the homeland of heaven; in other words: until I was four years and eight months old.

¹⁶ The good Lord gave me the grace to open my intelligence very early and to engrave so deeply in my memory the memories of my childhood that these past events seem like yesterday to me. Without doubt, Jesus wanted me to know and appreciate the incomparable mother He had given me. Alas! His divine hand soon took her from me to crown her in heaven.

¹⁷ All my life, the Lord has been pleased to surround me with love. My first memories are marked with the most tender smiles and caresses. But if He had placed so much love near me, He had also placed it in my little heart, creating it affectionate and sensitive. One cannot imagine how much I cherished my father and mother. I showed them my tenderness in a thousand ways, because I was very expansive. However, the means I used then make me laugh today when I think about them.

¹⁸ You wanted, my Mother, to put into my hands mother’s letters, addressed at that time to my sister Pauline, a resident at the Visitation of Le Mans. I remember perfectly the features they contain. But it will be easier for me to simply quote certain passages from these charming letters, often too laudatory towards me, being dictated by maternal love.

¹⁹ To support what I was saying about how to show my affection to my parents, here is a word from my mother:

²⁰ “The baby is an imp like no other, who comes to caress me and wishes me to die! ‘Oh! How I wish you would die, my poor little mother!’ She is scolded, but she apologizes with an air of complete astonishment, saying: ‘It’s so that you can go to heaven, since you say that you have to die to go there!’ She also wishes death for her father when she is in her excesses of love.

²¹ “This poor darling doesn’t want to leave me. She is constantly near me and follows me happily, especially in the garden. When I’m not there, she refuses to stay there and cries so much that they have to bring her back to me. Likewise, she would not go up the stairs alone, unless you call me at each step: ‘Mom! Mom!’ So many steps, so many moms! And if by misfortune I forget to answer even once: ‘Yes, my little girl!’ she stays there, neither moving forward nor backward.”

²² I was about to reach my third year when my mother wrote:

²³ “…Little Thérèse asked me the other day if she would go to heaven: ‘Yes, if you are very good,’ I replied. — ‘Ah, Mom!’ she then continued, ‘if I wasn’t cute, would I go to hell? But I know well what I would do: I would fly away with you who would be in heaven; then you would hold me tightly in your arms. How would the good Lord take me?’ I saw in her eyes that she was convinced that the good Lord could do nothing to her if she hid in her mother’s arms.”

²⁴ Marie loves her little sister very much. She is a child who gives us all many joys. She is extraordinarily frank: it’s charming to see her running after me to make her confession. “Mom, I pushed Céline once, I beat her once. But I won’t do it again.”

²⁵ As soon as she has made the slightest misfortune, everyone must know. Yesterday, having unwittingly torn a small corner of tapestry, she put herself in a pitiful state. Then she had to quickly tell her father. When he returned four hours later, no one thought more about it. But she ran to Marie, saying to her: “Quickly tell dad that I tore the paper.” She stood there, like a criminal awaiting her sentence; but she has an idea that people will forgive her more easily if she accuses herself.

²⁶ By finding the name of my dear little father here, I am naturally led to certain very happy memories. When he came home, I invariably ran to meet him and sat on one of his boots. So, he walked me like this, as long as I wanted, in the apartments and in the garden. Mom said laughing that he did everything I wanted: “What do you want,” he replied, “it’s the queen!” Then he took me in his arms, lifted me high, sat me on his shoulder, kissed me, and caressed me in every way.

²⁷ However, I cannot say that he spoiled me. I remember very well that one day when I was swinging and frolicking, my father came by and called me, saying: “Come and kiss me, my little queen!” Against my habit, I did not want to move and replied with a mischievous air: “Get out of your way, dad!” He didn’t listen to me and did the right thing. Mary was there. “You ill-bred little girl,” she said to me, “how naughty it is to respond like that to your father!” Immediately I got out of my fatal swing; the lesson was only too well borne! The whole house resounded with my cries of contrition. I quickly went up the stairs, and this time I didn’t call mother on each step. I only thought about finding dad, reconciling with him, which was done very quickly.

²⁸ I could not bear the thought of having distressed my beloved parents. Recognizing my wrongs was a matter of an instant, as this childhood trait told so naturally by my mother herself still proves:

²⁹ One morning, I wanted to kiss little Thérèse before going downstairs. She seemed deeply asleep. So, I didn’t dare wake her, when Marie said to me: “Mom, she’s pretending to be asleep, I’m sure of it.” Then I leaned over his forehead to kiss her, but she immediately hid under her blanket, saying to me with the air of a spoiled child: “I don’t want anyone to see me."—I was nothing less than happy, and made her feel it. Two minutes later I heard her crying, and soon, to my great surprise, I saw her at my side! She got out of her little bed alone, went down the stairs barefoot, embarrassed in her nightgown that was longer than she was. Her little face was covered with tears. “Mom,” she said to me, throwing herself at my knees, “Mom, I was naughty, forgive me!”" Forgiveness was quickly granted. I took my cherub in my arms, pressing her to my heart and covering her with kisses.

³⁰ I loved Mom’s smile;
Her deep gaze seemed to say:
“Eternity delights me and attracts me…
I am going to go to the blue Sky to see God!”

³¹ I also remember the great affection that I had from that time for my older sister, Marie, who had just finished her studies at the Visitation. Without appearing to do so, I paid attention to everything that was happening and being said around me. It seems to me that I judged things as I do now. I listened attentively to what she was teaching Céline. To obtain the favor of being admitted to her room during lessons, I was very well behaved, and I obeyed her in everything. So, she showered me with gifts which, despite their little value, gave me extreme pleasure.

³² I can say that my two big sisters made me very proud! But, as Pauline seemed so far away, I only dreamed of her from morning to evening. When I was just starting to talk, and Mom asked me, “What are you thinking about?” the answer was invariable: “To Pauline!” Sometimes I heard that Pauline would be a nun. So, without really knowing what it was, I thought: “I too will be a nun!” This is one of my first memories. And since then, I have never changed my resolution. It was therefore the example of this dear sister who, from the age of two, led me towards the Spouse of virgins.

³³ O my Mother, what sweet reflections I would like to confide to you here, about my relationship with Pauline! But it would be too long.

³⁴ My dear little Léonie also held a very big place in my heart; she loved me very much. In the evening, when she came back from her lessons, she wanted to look after me when the whole family was out walking. I seem to still hear the kind refrains that she sang in her sweet voice to put me to sleep. I remember her first communion perfectly. I also remember the poor little girl, her companion, whom my mother had dressed, following the touching custom of the well-off families of Alençon. This child did not leave Léonie one moment on this beautiful day. And, in the evening at the big dinner, she was placed in the place of honor. Alas! I was too little to stay at this pious feast; but I participated a little, thanks to the kindness of Dad who himself came, at dessert, to bring his little queen a piece of the wedding cake.

³⁵ Now I just have to talk about Céline, my childhood companion. For her, memories are in such abundance that I don’t know which ones to choose. We both got along perfectly; but I was much livelier and much less naive than her. Here is a letter which will show you, Mother, how sweet Céline was, and how naughty I was. I was then almost three years old, and Céline was six and a half years old.

³⁶ “My little Céline is completely inclined to virtue; for the little ferret, we don’t really know how it will work. It’s so small, so dizzy! She is a very intelligent child, but she is much less gentle than her sister, and above all, almost invincibly stubborn. When she says no, nothing can make her give in. We would put her in the cellar for a day without getting a yes from her. She would rather sleep there!”

³⁷ I still had one fault that my mother doesn’t talk about in her letters: it was a great self-esteem. Here are just two examples:

³⁸ One day, undoubtedly wanting to know how far my pride would go, she said to me with a smile: “My little Thérèse, if you want to kiss the earth I will give you a penny.” A penny was worth a whole fortune to me. To gain it in the circumstances, I had little need to lower my height, because my small size did not put a considerable distance between me and the earth. However, my pride revolted, and, standing up straight, I replied to mother: “Oh! No, my little mother, I would rather not have any money.”

³⁹ Another time, we had to go to the countryside to visit friends. Mom told Marie to put my prettiest clothes on, but not to leave my arms bare. I didn’t say a word, and even showed the indifference that children of that age must have; but inside I said to myself: “However, how much nicer I would have been with my little bare arms!”

⁴⁰ With such a nature, I am perfectly aware that, if I had been raised by parents without virtue, I would have become very wicked, and perhaps even would have run to my eternal ruin. But Jesus watched over his little bride; he turned to his advantage all his faults, which, repressed early, served him to grow in perfection. In fact, as I had self-esteem and also a love of good, it was enough for someone to tell me just once: “You must not do such and such a thing,” so that I would no longer have wanted to start again. I see with pleasure in my dear mother’s letters that as I grew older, I gave her more consolation; having only good examples before my eyes, I naturally wanted to follow them. Here is what she wrote in 1876:

⁴¹ “Until Thérèse who wants to get involved in making sacrifices. Mary gave her little sisters a rosary made expressly to count their practices of virtue; They hold real spiritual conferences together which are very amusing. Céline said the other day: ‘How is it that the good Lord is in such a small host?’ Thérèse replied: ‘It’s not so surprising, since the good Lord is all-powerful!’ — ‘And what does omnipotent mean?’ — ‘It means he does whatever he wants!’”

⁴² But what is even more curious is seeing Thérèse put her hand a hundred times a day in her little pocket to take a bead from her rosary every time she makes a sacrifice.

⁴³ These two children are inseparable and are enough for each other to play together. The nurse gave Thérèse a rooster and a hen from the little species; quickly the baby gave the rooster to his sister. Every day, after dinner, she goes to get her rooster, she catches him suddenly as well as the hen; then there they come and sit by the fire; They have fun like this for a long time.

⁴⁴ One morning, Thérèse decided to get out of her little bed to go and sleep with Céline; the maid was looking for her to dress her; she finally sees him, and the little one says to her, kissing her sister and hugging her tightly: “Leave me, my poor Louise, you see that both of us are like little white hens, we can’t separate!"

⁴⁵ It is very true that I could not stay without Céline; I preferred leaving the table before having finished my dessert than not following her as soon as she got up. Turning around in my big child’s chair, I wanted to get down quickly and then we were going to play together.

⁴⁶ On Sundays, as I was too little to go to services, mother stayed to look after me. In this circumstance, I showed great wisdom, walking only on the tips of my toes; but as soon as I heard the door open, there was an explosion of joy like no other; I rushed to meet my pretty little sister, and I said to her: “O Céline! Give me some blessed bread quickly!” One day, she didn’t have any!… what to do? I couldn’t do without it; I called this feast, my mass. A bright idea crossed my mind: “You don’t have any blessed bread, well, make some!" She then opened the cupboard, took the bread, cut off a bite, and, reciting a Hail Mary over it in a solemn tone, presented it to me in triumph. And I, making the sign of the cross, ate it with great devotion, finding it exactly the taste of blessed bread.

⁴⁷ One day, Léonie, undoubtedly finding herself too big to play with dolls, came to find us both with a basket full of dresses, pretty pieces of fabric and other decorations, on which having laid her doll, she gave us said: “Here, my little sisters, choose!” Céline looked and took a ball of braid. After a moment of reflection, I also put out my hand and said: “I choose everything!" and I took away the basket and the doll without further ceremony.

⁴⁸ This trait of my childhood is like the summary of my entire life. Later, when perfection appeared to me, I understood that to become a saint you had to suffer a lot, always seek the most perfect and forget yourself. I understood that, in holiness, the degrees are numerous, that each soul is free to respond to the advances of Our Lord, to do little or much for his love; in a word, to choose between the sacrifices he requires. Then, as in the days of my childhood, I cried out: “My God, I choose everything! I don’t want to be half-saint; I am not afraid of suffering for you, I only fear one thing, and that is to keep my will; take it, because I choose everything you want!”

⁴⁹ But I forget myself, my beloved Mother; I don’t have to tell you about my youth yet, I’m a little baby of three and four years old.

⁵⁰ I remember a dream that I had at that age, and which was deeply etched in my memory:

⁵¹ I was going to walk alone in the garden, when I suddenly saw, near the arbor, two awful little devils dancing on a barrel of lime with surprising agility, despite the heavy irons on their feet. They first cast flaming eyes on me; then, as if seized with fear, I saw them rush in the blink of an eye to the bottom of the barrel, then come out through I don’t know which exit, run and finally hide in the linen room which opened directly onto the garden. Finding them so not brave, I wanted to know what they were going to do; and, overcoming my first fear, I approached the window… The poor imps were there, running on the tables and not knowing how to escape my gaze. From time to time they approached, watching through the windows with a worried air; then, seeing that I was still there, they began to run again like desperate people.

⁵² No doubt, this dream is nothing extraordinary; I believe, however, that the good Lord used it to prove to me that a soul in a state of grace has nothing to fear from demons who are cowards, capable of fleeing before the gaze of a child…

⁵³ O my Mother, how happy I was at that age! Not only did I begin to enjoy life; but virtue had charms for me. I found myself, it seems to me, in the same situation as today, already having great control over all my actions. So, I got into the habit of never complaining when what was mine was taken away; or, when I was unjustly accused, I preferred to remain silent than to apologize. There was no merit on my part in this; I did it naturally.

⁵⁴ Ah! How quickly these sunny years of my early childhood passed, and what a sweet and sweet imprint they left on my soul! I remember with happiness the Sunday walks where my good mother always accompanied us. I still feel the deep and poetic impressions that arose in my heart at the sight of the wheat fields dotted with poppies, cornflowers and daisies. Already, I loved distances, space, big trees; in a word, all beautiful nature delighted me and transported my soul to the heavens.

⁵⁵ Often, during these long walks, we met poor people, and little Thérèse was always responsible for bringing them alms, which made her very happy. Often also, my good father, finding the road a little long for his little queen, would bring her back home, to his great displeasure! So, to console her, Céline filled her pretty little basket with daisies and gave them to her when she returned.

⁵⁶ Oh! Truly, everything on earth smiled at me. I found flowers under each of my steps, and my happy character also contributed to making my life pleasant; but a new period was about to open. Having to be the bride of Jesus so early, it was necessary for me to suffer from my childhood. Just as the flowers of spring begin to sprout under the snow and blossom with the first rays of the sun, so the little flower whose memories I am writing had to go through the winter of trial, and let her tender chalice be filled with the dew of tears…

Chapter 2 #

¹ All the details of my mother’s illness are still present in my heart. I especially remember the last weeks she spent on earth. We were, Céline and I, like poor little exiles! Every morning Madame X *** came to pick us up, and we passed the day at her house. Once, we didn’t have time to say our prayers before leaving, and my little sister said to me in a low voice during the journey: “Must we admit that we didn’t say our prayers? —Oh, yes!” I replied. So, very timidly, she confided her secret to this lady who immediately said to us: “Well, my little girls, you are going to do it”; then, leaving us in a large room, she left. Céline looked at me stunned; I was no less happy and exclaimed: “Ah! It’s not like mom! She always made us say our prayers.”

² During the day, despite the distractions they tried to give us, the thought of our dear mother kept coming back to us. I remember that my sister, having received a beautiful apricot, leaned towards me and said: “We are not going to eat it, I am going to give it to mother.” Alas! Our beloved mother was already too ill to eat the fruits of the earth; she was only to be satisfied in heaven with the glory of God and to drink with Jesus the mysterious wine of which he spoke in his Last Supper, promising to share it with us in the kingdom of his Father.

³ The touching ceremony of Extreme Unction was imprinted on my soul. I can still see the place where I was made to kneel, I can still hear my poor father’s sobs.

⁴ My mother left this world on August 28, 1877, in her forty-sixth year. The day after his death, my good father took me in his arms: “Come,” he said to me, “kiss your dear little mother one last time.” And I, without uttering a single word, approached my lips to the frozen forehead of my dear mother.

⁵ I don’t remember crying much. I didn’t tell anyone about the deep feelings that filled my heart; I watched and listened in silence. I also saw many things that people would have wanted to hide from me: a moment, I found myself alone in front of the coffin, placed upright in the corridor; I stopped to consider him for a long time; I had never seen one, but I understood! I was so small then that I had to lift my head to see it all, and it seemed very big, very sad…

⁶ Fifteen years later, I found myself in front of another coffin, that of our holy Mother Geneviève; and I thought I was still in the days of my childhood! All my memories crowded into my memory. It was indeed the same little Thérèse who was looking, but she had grown up, and the coffin seemed small to her; she did not raise her head to look at him, she only raised it to contemplate the sky which seemed very joyful to her, because the ordeal had matured and strengthened her soul in such a way that nothing down here could no longer sadden her.

⁷ The day the holy Church blessed the mortal remains of my mother, the good Lord did not leave me completely orphaned; he gave me another mother and made me choose her freely. The five of us were gathered together, looking at each other with sadness. Seeing us like this, our maid was moved with compassion and turning to Céline and me: “Poor little ones,” she said to us, “you no longer have a mother!” Then Céline threw herself into Marie’s arms, crying: “Well, it’s you who will be a mother!” I, always accustomed to following Céline, should have imitated her in such a just action; but I thought that Pauline would perhaps be sad and feel abandoned, not having a little girl; then I looked with tenderness, and hiding my little head on her heart, I said in turn: “For me, it is Pauline who will be a mother!”

⁸ As I wrote above, it was from this time that I had to enter the second period of my existence, the most painful, especially since the entry into Carmel of the one I had chosen to my second mother. This period extends from the age of four and a half until my fourteenth year, when I found my childish character, while understanding more and more the seriousness of life.

⁹ I must tell you, my revered Mother, that as soon as my mother died, my happy character changed completely. I, so lively, so expansive, became shy and gentle, excessively sensitive; one look was often enough to make me burst into tears; no one had to worry about me; I could not bear the company of strangers and only found my cheerfulness in the privacy of the family. There, I continued to be surrounded by the greatest delicacies. My father’s already so affectionate heart seemed enriched with a truly maternal love, and I felt my sisters become the most tender, selfless mothers for me. Ah! If the good Lord had not lavished his beneficial rays on his little flower, she would never have been able to acclimatize to the earth. Still too weak to withstand the rains and storms, he needed warmth, gentle dew and spring breezes; these benefits did not fail him, even under the snow of the ordeal.

¹⁰ Soon, my father decided to leave Alençon to live in Lisieux and thus bring us closer to my uncle, my mother’s brother. He made this sacrifice in order to entrust my sisters, still young, to the direction of my dear aunt, so that she would guide them in their new mission and serve us in a way a mother. I felt no sorrow in leaving my hometown; children like change and things out of the ordinary; It was therefore with pleasure that I came to Lisieux. I remember the trip, the arrival in the evening at my uncle’s house; I still see my little cousins, Jeanne and Marie, waiting for us on the threshold of the house with my aunt. Oh! How touched I was by the affection that our dear parents showed us!

¹¹ The next day, we were taken to our new home, I mean Les Buisson nets, a solitary neighborhood located very close to the beautiful promenade called “Jardin de l’étoile”. The house rented by my father seemed charming to me: a belvedere from which the view extended into the distance, the English garden in front of the facade, and behind the house another large vegetable garden; all this was a happy new thing for my young imagination. Indeed, this cheerful dwelling became the scene of very sweet joys, of unforgettable family scenes. Elsewhere, as I said above, I was exiled, I cried, I felt that I no longer had a mother! There, my little heart blossomed, and I still smiled at life.

¹² As soon as I woke up, I found the caresses of my sisters and then alongside them I said my prayers. I then took my reading lesson with Pauline; I remember that the word ‘heavens’ was the first that I could read alone. As soon as my class finished, I went up to the belvedere, my father’s usual residence. Ah! How happy I was when I had good grades to tell him!

¹³ Every afternoon I went for a little walk with him, visiting the Blessed Sacrament, one day in one church, the next day in another. This is how I entered the Carmel chapel for the first time. “You see, my little queen,” Dad said to me, “behind this big gate, there are holy nuns who always pray to the good Lord.” I was far from thinking that, nine years later, I would be among them; that there, in this blessed Carmel, I would receive such great graces!

¹⁴ After the walk, I returned home where I did my homework. Then, all the rest of the time, I skipped around the garden around my good father. I didn’t know how to play with dolls; my greatest pleasure was preparing herbal teas with seeds and tree bark. When my infusions took on a beautiful color, I quickly offered them to Dad, in a pretty little cup that really made you want to savor the contents. This tender father would immediately leave his work and then, smiling, pretend to drink.

¹⁵ I also liked to grow flowers; I amused myself by setting up little altars in a recess which was, fortunately, in the middle of my garden wall. When everything was ready, I ran to Dad who was ecstatic, to please me, in front of my marvelous altars, admiring what I considered a masterpiece! I wouldn’t finish if I wanted to recount a thousand traits of this kind that I have remembered. Ah! How can I describe all the tenderness that my incomparable father lavished on his little queen?

¹⁶ Those were beautiful days for me when my beloved king —as I liked to call him—took me with him fishing. Sometimes I tried to fish myself with my little line; more often I preferred to sit apart on the flowering grass. Then my thoughts became very deep; and, without knowing what meditating was, my soul immersed itself in real prayer. I listened to the distant sounds, the whisper of the wind. Sometimes the military music sent me a few uncertain notes from the city, and gently “melancholy” my heart. The earth seemed to me a place of exile and I dreamed of the sky!

¹⁷ The afternoon passed quickly; soon we had to return to Bushes. But, before packing up, I took the snack brought in my little basket. Alas! The beautiful jam toast prepared by my sisters had changed in appearance. Instead of its bright color, I only saw a slight pink tint, all aged and faded. Then the earth seemed even sadder to me, and I understood that only in heaven would joy be cloudless.

¹⁸ Speaking of clouds, I remember that one day the beautiful blue sky of the countryside was covered with them. Soon the storm began to roar with force, accompanied by sparkling lightning. I turned to the right and to the left so as not to lose anything of this majestic spectacle. Finally, I saw lightning strike in a neighboring meadow, and, far from experiencing the slightest fear, I was delighted. It seemed to me that the good Lord was very close to me! My dear father, less happy than his queen, came to rescue her from her delight; already the grass and the large daisies, taller than me, sparkled with precious stones, and we had to cross several meadows before reaching the road. So, he took me in his arms, despite his outfit of lines, and from there I looked down at the beautiful diamonds, almost regretting not being covered and flooded with them.

¹⁹ I seem to have not said that, during my daily walks, in Lisieux as in Alençon, I often brought alms to the unfortunate. One day we saw a poor old man dragging himself painfully on crutches. I approached to give him my little coin; he fixed a long, sad look on me, then, shaking his head with a painful smile, he refused my alms. I cannot say what happened in my heart. I would have liked to console him, to relieve him; instead, perhaps I had just humiliated him, caused him pain!

²⁰ No doubt he guessed my thoughts, because I soon saw him turn away and smile at me from afar. At that moment, my good father had just bought me a cake, I really wanted to run and give it to the old man. I said to myself: “He didn’t want money, but of course a cake would make him happy.” Then I don’t know what fear held me back. My heart was so heavy that I could barely hide my tears. Finally, I remembered having heard that on the day of the first communion we obtained all the graces requested: this thought immediately consoled me. Although I was only six years old at the time, I said to myself: “I will pray for my poor person on the day of my first communion;” and, five years later, I faithfully kept my resolution. I always thought that my childish prayer for this suffering member of Our Lord had been blessed and rewarded.

²¹ As I grew up, I loved the good Lord more and more, and I often gave him my heart, using the formula that my mother had taught me; I tried to please Jesus in all my actions, and I was very careful never to offend him. However, one day I committed a mistake which is well worth reporting here; it gives me great reason to humble myself, and I believe I have had perfect contrition.

²² It was in the month of May 1878. My sisters finding me too small to go to the exercises of the month of Mary every evening, I stayed with the maid, and did my devotions with her before my own altar, which I arranged at my way. Everything was so small, candlesticks, flowerpots, etc., that two candle matches were enough to light it perfectly. Sometimes Victoire, to save my supply of matches, would surprise me with two real stubs of candle; but it was rare.

²³ One evening, we were going to pray, I said to him: “Would you like to start the Remember, I will light it.” She pretended to start, then looked at me and laughed. Very strong. I, who saw my precious matches burning quickly, I begged her once again to quickly say Remember. Same silence! Same bursts of laughter! Then, at the height of indignation, I stood up, and, breaking from my usual gentleness, I stamped my foot forcefully, shouting loudly: “Victory, you are a villain!” The poor girl no longer wanted to laugh; she looked at me, speechless with astonishment, and showed me, but too late, the surprise of her two candle ends hidden under her apron. After crying with anger, alas! I shed tears of contrition; I was completely ashamed and sorry, and I made a firm resolution never to do it again.

²⁴ Shortly after, I went to confession. Very sweet memory for me! Pauline said to me: “My little Thérèse, it is not to a man, but to the good God himself that you are going to confess your sins.” I became so convinced of this that I seriously asked him if I should not tell Father D *** that I loved him with all my heart, since it was to the good Lord that I was going to speak in his person.

²⁵ Well informed of all that I had to do, I entered the confessional, and, turning right in front of the priest to see him better, I confessed and received his blessing with a great spirit of faith—my sister having assured that at this solemn moment the tears of little Jesus would purify my soul. I remember the exhortation addressed to me. It invited me above all to devotion to the Blessed Virgin, and I promised myself to redouble my tenderness for the one who already held a very large place in my heart.

²⁶ Finally, I passed my little rosary to have it blessed, and I left the confessional so happy and so light that I had never felt so much joy. It was the evening. Arriving under a streetlamp I stopped, and taking the newly blessed rosary from my pocket, I turned it and returned to all the sense. “What are you looking at, my little Thérèse?” Pauline told me. “But I look at how it’s done, a blessed rosary!” This naive response amused my sisters greatly. For my part, I remained for a long time imbued with the grace I had received; Since then, I wanted to confess on major holidays, and this confession, I can say, filled my entire little interior with joy.

²⁷ Celebrations! Ah! What embalmed memories this simple word brings back to me!… The holidays! I loved them so much! My sisters knew how to explain to me so well the mysteries hidden in each of them! Yes, these days on earth became days in heaven for me. I especially loved the processions of the Blessed Sacrament. What a joy to sow flowers under the footsteps of the good Lord! But, before letting them fall there, I threw them high, and I was never so happy as when I saw my bare roses touching the sacred monstrance.

²⁸ Celebrations! Ah! If the big ones were rare, each week brought back one very dear to my heart: Sunday. What a radiant day! It was the feast of the good Lord, the feast of rest. First, the whole family went to high mass; and I remember that at the time of the sermon—our chapel being far from the pulpit—we had to go down and find seats in the nave, which was not very easy. But, for little Thérèse and her father, everyone was quick to offer them chairs. My uncle was delighted when he saw us both arrive; he called me his little ray of sunshine and said that seeing this venerable patriarch leading his little daughter by the hand was a sight that delighted him.

²⁹ I didn’t worry much about being looked at, I just listened attentively to the priest. A sermon on the Passion of Our Lord was the first that I understood, and which touched me deeply; I was five years old then and a half, and since then I was able to grasp and taste the meaning of all the instructions.

³⁰ When there was talk on Saint Teresa, my father leaned over and said to me in a low voice: “Listen carefully, my little queen, we are talking about your patron saint.” I listened well, in fact, but I admit, I looked at Dad more often than at the preacher. His beautiful face told me so many things! Sometimes his eyes filled with tears which he tried in vain to hold back. By listening to the eternal truths, he (Louis Martin) already seemed to no longer inhabit the earth; his soul seemed to me immersed in another world. Alas! His course was far, far from being over. Long and painful years were still to pass before the beautiful sky opened to his eyes and the Lord, with his divine hand, wiped away the bitter tears of his faithful servant.

³¹ I return to my day on Sunday. This joyous celebration which passed so quickly also had its tinge of melancholy. My happiness was unadulterated until Compline. But, from this evening service, a feeling of sadness invaded my soul. I thought that the next day we would have to start life again, work, learn lessons, and my heart felt the exile of the earth. I sighed for the rest of heaven, the sunset-less Sunday of the true homeland!

³² Before returning to Les Buissonnets, my aunt invited us, one after the other, to spend the evening at her house: I was very happy when my turn came. I listened with extreme pleasure to everything my uncle said, his serious conversations interested me very much; he certainly had no idea of the attention I paid to it. However, my joy was mixed with fear when he sat me on just one of his knees, singing Bluebeard in a wonderful voice!

³³ Around eight o’clock, my father came to pick me up. Then I remember that I looked at the stars with inexpressible delight… There was especially in the deep firmament a group of golden pearls (Orion’s baldric) which I noticed with delight, finding it the shape of a T and on the way, I said to my dear father: “Look, dad, my name is written in the sky!" Then, not wanting to see anything more of the ugly land, I asked him to take me; and, without looking where I placed my feet, I put my little head in the air, never tiring of contemplating the starry azure.

³⁴ What could I say about the winter evenings at Les Buissonnets? After the checkerboard game, my sisters read the Liturgical Year: then a few pages of a book that was both interesting and instructive. During this time, I took a place on my father’s knees; and, when the reading was finished, he sang, in his beautiful voice, melodious refrains as if to put me to sleep. So, I rested my head on his heart, and he gently rocked me…

³⁵ Finally we went up to pray; and, there again, I had my place with my good father, having only to look at him to know how the saints pray. Then, Pauline put me to bed; after which I invariably said to him: “Was I cute today? —Is the good Lord happy with me? —Will the little angels fly around me?" Always the answer was yes: otherwise, I would have spent the whole night crying. After this interrogation, my sisters kissed me, and little Thérèse remained alone in the darkness.

³⁶ I consider it a real grace to have been accustomed from childhood to overcoming my fears. Sometimes, Pauline sent me alone in the evening to fetch something from a distant room; she did not tolerate refusal, and that was necessary for me, because I would have become very fearful; while that now it is very difficult to frighten me. I wonder how my little mother was able to raise me with so much love, without spoiling me, because she never allowed me any imperfection: she never reproached me without cause, but never either—I knew that well. —she never went back on something decided.

³⁷ This dear sister received my most intimate confidences; she clarified all my doubts. One day, I expressed to her my surprise that the good Lord does not give equal glory in heaven to all the elect—I was afraid that not everyone would be happy. So, she sent me to get Dad’s big glass and put it next to my little thimble. Then, filling them both with water, she asked me which one seemed fuller. I told her that I saw them as full as each other, and that it was impossible to pour more water on them than they could hold. Pauline then made me understand that in heaven the last of the elect would not envy the happiness of the first. This is how, by placing the most sublime secrets within my reach, she gave my soul the nourishment it needed.

³⁸ With what joy I saw the distribution of prizes arrive each year! Although all alone in competing, justice, as always, was no less guarded; I only had the rewards that were absolutely deserved. My heartbeat hard as I listened to my sentence, as I received the prizes and the crowns from my father’s hands, in front of the whole assembled family. It was for me like an image of judgment!

³⁹ Alas! Seeing Dad so radiant, I did not foresee the great trials that awaited him. One day, however, the good Lord showed me in an extraordinary vision the living image of this pain to come.

⁴⁰ My father was traveling and was not expected to return anytime soon; It might have been two or three o’clock in the afternoon: the sun was shining brightly, and all nature seemed to be celebrating. I found myself alone at a window overlooking the vegetable garden, my mind occupied with laughing thoughts; when I saw in front of the laundry room, in front of me, a man dressed exactly like Dad, with the same tall height and the same gait, but also very hunched and aged. I say aged, to depict the general whole of his person; for I could not see his face, his head being covered with a thick veil. He advanced slowly, with a regular step, along my little garden. Immediately, a feeling of supernatural fear seized me, and I called out loud in a trembling voice: “Dad! Dad!" But the mysterious character did not seem to hear me; he continued his walk without even turning away, and thus headed towards a clump of fir trees which shared the main path of the garden. I expected to see him reappear on the other side of the tall trees; but the prophetic vision had vanished!

⁴¹ All this had lasted only an instant: an instant which was engraved so deeply in my memory that even today, after so many years, the memory of it is as present to me as the vision itself.

⁴² My sisters were together in a neighboring room. Hearing me call daddy, they themselves felt a sense of fear. Hiding her emotion, Marie ran up to me: “Why then,” she said to me, “do you call Dad who is in Alençon like that?” I related what I had just seen, and, to reassure me, I was told that the maid, no doubt wanting to scare me, had hidden her head with her apron.

⁴³ But Victoire, when questioned, assured that she had not left her kitchen; besides, the truth could not be obscured in my mind: I had seen a man, and this man looked absolutely like Dad. So, we all went behind the clump of trees, and, having found nothing, my sisters told me not to think about that anymore. Don’t think about it anymore! Ah! It was not in my power. Very often my imagination represented this mysterious vision to me. Very often I sought to lift the veil which hid its meaning from me, and I kept in the depths of my heart the intimate conviction that it would one day be fully revealed to me.

⁴⁴ And you know everything, my beloved Mother! You know it now: it was indeed my father that the good Lord had shown me, coming forward bent with age, and bearing on his venerable face, on his whitened head, the sign of his great ordeal. As the adorable Face of Jesus was veiled during his Passion, so the face of his faithful servant had to be veiled in the days of his humiliation, in order to be able to shine more brilliantly in the heavens. Ah! How much I admire the conduct of God showing us in advance this precious cross, as a father lets his children glimpse the glorious future that he is preparing for them, and delights, in his love, to consider the riches himself without price which must be their inheritance!

⁴⁵ But a thought comes to mind: “Why did the good Lord give this light to a child who, if she had understood it, would have died of pain?” Why? … This is one of those impenetrable mysteries that we will only understand in heaven to make it the subject of our eternal admiration! My God, you are good! How you proportion the trials to our strength! I didn’t even have the courage at that time to think, without fear, that Dad could die. One day he climbed to the top of a ladder and, as I stood there nearby, he said to me: “Move away, my little queen, because if I fall, I will crush you.” Immediately I felt an inner revolt and, approaching closer still to the ladder, I thought: “At least, if Dad falls, I won’t have the pain of seeing him die, I will die with him."

⁴⁶ No, I can’t say how much I loved my father! Everything about him caused me admiration. When he explained to me his thoughts on very serious matters—as if I had been a big girl—I said to him naively: “Of course, Dad, if you spoke like that to the big men in the government, they would take you and make you king, then France would be happy as it has never been; but you would be unhappy, since that is the fate of all kings; and then you would no longer be my king alone, so I would prefer that they did not know you.”

⁴⁷ Around the age of six or seven, I saw the sea for the first time. This spectacle caused a deep impression on me, I could not take my eyes off it. Its majesty, the roar of its waves, everything spoke to my soul of the greatness and power of the good God. I remember that, on the beach, a gentleman and a lady looked at me for a long time, and, asking Dad if I belonged to him, they said that I was a very pretty little girl. My father immediately signaled them not to compliment me. I felt pleased when I heard this, because I didn’t think I was nice; my sisters were so careful never to use any language capable of making me lose my childish simplicity and candor! Also, as I only believed them, I didn’t attach much importance to the words and admiring looks of these people, and I didn’t think about them anymore.

⁴⁸ In the evening of that day, at the time when the sun seems to bathe in the immensity of the waves, leaving a luminous trail before it, I went to sit down with Pauline on a deserted rock; I contemplated for a long time this golden furrow that she told me was the image of grace illuminating the path of faithful souls here below. Then I pictured my heart in the middle of the furrow, like a small light boat with a graceful white sail, and I resolved never to take it away from the gaze of Jesus, so that it could sail in peace and quickly towards the shore of heaven.

Chapter 3 #

¹ I was eight and a half years old when Léonie left school and I replaced her at the Benedictine Abbey in Lisieux. I was placed in a class of students all taller than me: one of them, aged fourteen, was not very intelligent, but nevertheless knew how to impose on residents. Seeing me so young, almost always first in compositions, and beloved by all the nuns, she felt jealous and made me pay in a thousand ways for my little successes. With my shy and delicate nature, I didn’t know how to defend myself and just cried without saying anything. Céline, as well as my older sisters, was unaware of my grief; but I did not have enough virtue to rise above these miseries and my poor little heart suffered a lot.

² Every evening, fortunately, I found my father’s home; then my soul blossomed, I jumped on my father’s knees, telling him the notes that had been given to me, and his kiss made me forget all my sorrows. With what joy I announced the result of my first composition! I had the maximum, and for my reward I received a pretty little white coin which I placed in my piggy bank for the poor, and which was intended to receive a new companion almost every Thursday. Ah! I really needed these treats; It was very useful for the little flower to often plunge its tender roots into the loved and chosen soil of the family, since it found nowhere else the juice necessary for its sustenance.

³ Every Thursday we had off; but I no longer recognized the leave given by Pauline, most of which I spent at the belvedere with Dad. Not knowing how to play like other children, I did not feel like a pleasant companion; However, I did my best to imitate others, without ever succeeding.

⁴ After Céline, who was, so to speak, indispensable to me, I was especially looking for my little cousin Marie, because she left me free to choose games to my liking. We were already very united in heart and will, as if the good Lord would have made us feel that one day, at Carmel, we would embrace the same religious life.

⁵ Very often—the scene took place at my uncle’s house—Marie and Thérèse became two very penitent anchorites, owning only a poor cabin, a small wheat field, and a garden in which to cultivate a few vegetables. Their lives passed in continual contemplation; that is to say that one replaced the other in prayer, when it was necessary to occupy oneself with active life. Everything was done with understanding, silence and perfectly religious manners. If we went for a walk, our game continued even in the street: the two hermits recited the rosary, using their fingers, so as not to show their devotion to the indiscreet audience. However, one day, the solitary Thérèse forgot himself: having received a cake for his snack, he made a large sign of the cross before eating it; and several laymen of the century did not hold back from smiling.

⁶ Our union of will sometimes crossed the limits. One evening, returning from the Abbey, we wanted to imitate the modesty of the solitary people. I said to Marie: “Lead me, I will close my eyes. — I want to close them too,” she replied, and each did her will.

⁷ We were walking on a sidewalk, so we didn’t have to worry about cars. But, after a pleasant walk of a few minutes, where the two dazed people savored the delights of walking without seeing, they came across crates placed at the door of a store together and knocked them over at the same time. Immediately, the merchant went out in anger to pick up his merchandise; but the blind volunteers had got up on their own and walked with hasty steps, their eyes wide open and their ears too, to hear the just reproaches of Jeanne who seemed as angry as the merchant.

⁸ I haven’t said anything yet about my new relationship with Céline. In Lisieux, the roles had changed: she had become the little elf full of mischief, and Thérèse a very sweet little girl, but crying excessively! So, she needed a defender, and who can say with what intrepidity my dear little sister took on this office? We often gave each other small gifts, which, on both sides, caused unparalleled happiness. Ah! It’s because at that age we weren’t jaded; our soul, in all its freshness, blossomed like a spring flower, happy to receive the morning dew; the same light breeze swayed our corollas. Yes, our joys were common: I felt it on the beautiful day of my darling Céline’s first communion!

⁹ I was seven years old then and did not yet go to the Abbey. How sweet is the memory of its preparation! Every evening during the last weeks, my sisters spoke to her about the great action she was going to do; I listened, eager to prepare myself too, and when I was told to withdraw, because I was still too little, my heart was very heavy; I thought that four years was not too long to prepare to receive the good Lord.

¹⁰ One evening, I heard these words addressed to my happy little sister: “From your first communion, you will have to start a completely new life.” I immediately made the resolution not to wait for that time for myself, but to start a new life with Céline.

¹¹ During her preparatory retreat, she remained entirely a resident at the Abbey and her absence seemed very long to me. Finally, her beautiful day arrived. What a delicious impression she left on my heart! It was like the prelude to my first communion! Ah, what graces I received that day! I consider it one of the most beautiful of my life.

¹² I went back a little to recall this ineffable memory. Now I must speak of the painful separation that broke my heart, when Jesus took away my little mother, so tenderly loved. I told her one day that I wanted to go with her to a distant desert. She then replied that my desire was hers, but that she would wait until I was old enough to leave. Little Thérèse had taken this unrealizable promise seriously, and what was her pain to hear her dear Pauline talking with Marie about her upcoming entry into Carmel! I did not know Carmel; but I understood that she would leave me to enter a convent, I understood that she would not wait for me!

¹³ How could I express the anguish of my heart? In an instant, life appeared to me in all its reality: full of suffering and continual separations, and I shed very bitter tears. I was then unaware of the joy of sacrifice; I was weak, so weak, that I consider it a great grace to have been able to endure without dying an ordeal apparently far beyond my strength.

¹⁴ I will always remember with what tenderness my little mother consoled me. She explained to me the life of the cloister; and one evening, while going over the picture she had drawn for me all alone in my heart, I felt that Carmel was the desert where the good Lord also wanted to hide me. I felt it so strongly that there was not the slightest doubt in my mind; it was not a child’s dream that allowed itself to be carried away, but the certainty of a divine call. This impression, which I cannot convey, left me in great peace.

¹⁵ The next day, I confided my desires to Pauline who, regarding them as the will of heaven, promised to take me soon to Carmel to see the Mother Prioress, to whom I could tell my secret.

¹⁶ A Sunday was chosen for this solemn visit. My embarrassment was great when I learned that my cousin Marie, still young enough to see the Carmelites, was to accompany me. However, I had to find a way to stay alone; and this is what came to my mind: I told Mary that having the privilege of seeing the Reverend Mother, we had to be very kind, very polite, and for that to entrust her with our secrets; so, one after the other, we would have to go out for a while. Despite her reluctance to confide secrets she did not have, Marie took my word for it; and so, I could stay alone with you, my dear Mother. Having heard my great confidences and believing in my vocation, you nevertheless told me that we did not receive applicants aged nine, and that we would have to wait until I was sixteen. I had to resign myself, despite my strong desire to enter with Pauline and make my first communion on the day she took the Habit.

¹⁷ Finally October 2 arrived! Day of tears and blessings when Jesus picked the first of his flowers, the chosen flower which was to be, a few years later, the Mother of his sisters. While my beloved father, accompanied by my uncle and Mary, climbed the mountain of Carmel to offer his first sacrifice, my aunt took me to mass with my sisters and cousins. We burst into tears, so much so that when they saw us enter the church, people looked at us with astonishment; but that didn’t stop me from crying. I wondered how the sun could still shine on the earth!

¹⁸ Perhaps you will find, my venerated Mother, that I am exaggerating my pain a little. I realize, in fact, that this departure should not have distressed me to this extent; but, I must admit, my soul was far from being matured; and I had to go through many crucibles before reaching the shore of peace, before tasting the delicious fruits of total abandonment and perfect love.

¹⁹ On the afternoon of October 2, 1882, I saw my darling Pauline, who had become Sister Agnès of Jesus, behind the gates of the Carmel. Oh, how I suffered in this parlor! Since I am writing the story of my soul, I must say everything, it seems to me! Well, I admit that I counted the first sufferings of separation as nothing, compared to those that followed. I, who was used to talking heart to heart with my little mother, barely got two or three minutes at the end. family visiting rooms; of course, I spent them shedding tears and left with a torn heart.

²⁰ I didn’t understand that it would often have been impossible to give each of us half an hour, and that we had to reserve the longest moments for my little father and Marie; I didn’t understand, and I said deep in my heart: Pauline is lost to me! My mind developed in such an astonishing way in the midst of suffering that I soon fell seriously ill.

²¹ The illness from which I suffered certainly came from the jealousy of the demon, who, furious at this first entry into Carmel, wanted to take revenge on me for the great harm that my family was to do to him in the future. But he did not know that the Queen of Heaven was faithfully watching over his little flower, that she was smiling at him from above and was preparing to make the storm stop at the very moment when its delicate and fragile stem was to break without return…

²² At the end of this year 1882, I was seized with a continual, but bearable, headache, which did not prevent me from continuing my studies; this lasted until Easter 1883. At that time, my father having gone to Paris with my older sisters, he entrusted Céline and me to my uncle and my aunt.

²³ One evening when I was alone with my uncle, he spoke to me about my mother, about past memories, with a tenderness that touched me deeply and made me cry. My sensitivity moved him himself; he was surprised to see the feelings I expressed at that age and resolved to provide me with all kinds of distractions during the holidays.

²⁴ The good Lord had decided otherwise. That very evening, my headache became extremely violent, and I was seized with a strange tremor which lasted all night. My aunt, like a true mother, did not leave me for a moment; during this illness she surrounded me with the most tender solicitude, lavished on me the most devoted and delicate care.

²⁵ We can imagine the pain of my poor father when, on his return from Paris, he saw me fallen into this desperate state. He soon thought I was going to die. But Our Lord could have answered him: “This illness does not lead to death; it is sent so that God may be glorified". Yes, the good Lord was glorified in this trial! It was through the admirable resignation of my father, it was through that of my sisters, especially Marie. How she suffered because of me! How great is my gratitude to this dear sister! Her heart dictated to her what was necessary for me, and truly a mother’s heart is much more powerful than the knowledge of the most skilful doctors.

²⁶ However, the taking of the habit of Sister Agnès of Jesus was approaching, and people avoided talking about it in front of me for fear of causing me distress; thinking I wouldn’t be able to go there. Deep in my heart, I firmly believed that the good Lord would grant me the consolation of seeing my dear Pauline again that day. Yes, I knew very well that this celebration would be cloudless, I knew that Jesus would not test his bride by my absence; she who had already suffered so much from her little daughter’s illness. Indeed, I was able to kiss my dear mother, sit on her knees, hide under her veil and receive her gentle caresses; I was able to contemplate her, so ravishing under her white finery! Truly it was a beautiful day in the midst of my dark ordeal; but this day, or rather this hour, passed quickly, and soon I had to get into the car which took me far from Carmel!

²⁷ On arriving at Les Buissonnets, I was made to lie down, although I did not feel any fatigue; but the next day I was violently taken back and the illness became so serious that, according to human calculations, I was never to recover.

²⁸ I don’t know how to describe such a strange evil: I said things I didn’t mean, I did others as if I was forced to do so in spite of myself; almost always I seemed delirious, and yet I am sure of not having been deprived for a single moment of the use of my reason. Often, I remained unconscious for hours, and so faint that it would have been impossible for me to make the slightest movement. However, in the midst of this extraordinary torpor, I could clearly hear what was being said around me, even in a low voice, I still remember it.

²⁹ And what fears the demon inspired in me! I was afraid of absolutely everything: my bed seemed surrounded by terrible precipices; certain nails, fixed to the bedroom wall, took on the terrifying image of large black charred fingers in my eyes, and made me cry out in terror. One day, while Dad was looking at me in silence, the hat he was holding in his hand suddenly transformed into some horrible shape, and I showed such great fear that this poor father left sobbing.

³⁰ But, if the good Lord allowed the demon to approach me externally, he also sent me visible angels to console me and strengthen me. Marie never left me, she never showed boredom, despite all the trouble I gave her; for I could not bear her to move away from me. During meals, where Victoire looked after me, I kept calling with tears: “Marie! Married!" When she wanted to go out, it had to be to go to mass or to see Pauline; only then did I say anything.

³¹ And Léonie! And my little Céline! What didn’t they do? In my opinion! On Sundays, they came to lock themselves up for hours with a poor child who looked like an idiot. Ah! My dear little sisters, how I made you suffer!

³² My uncle and aunt were also full of affection for me. My aunt came to see me every day and brought me a thousand treats. I cannot say how much my tenderness for these dear parents increased during this illness. I understood better than ever what my father often said to us: “Always remember, my children, that your uncle and your aunt have an unusual devotion to you.” In the days of his old age, he experienced it himself; and now, how he must protect and bless those who gave him such devoted care!

³³ In times when the suffering was less intense, I took joy in weaving wreaths of daisies and forget-me-nots for the Virgin Mary. We were then in the beautiful month of May, all nature is adorned with spring flowers; alone, the little flower languished and seemed forever withered! However, she had a sun near her, and this sun was the miraculous statue of the Queen of Heaven. Often, very often, the little flower turned its corolla towards this blessed Star.

³⁴ One day, I saw my father enter my room; he appeared very moved, and, advancing towards Mary, he gave her several gold coins with an expression of great sadness, begging her to write to Paris to request a novena of masses at the sanctuary of Notre-Dame des Victoires, in order to obtain healing for his poor little queen. Ah! How touched I was by seeing his faith and his love! How I wanted to get up and tell him that I was cured! Alas! My desires could not perform a miracle, and it took a very big one to bring me back to life! Yes, a great miracle was needed, and this miracle, Notre-Dame des Victoires achieved it entirely.

³⁵ One Sunday, during the novena, Marie went out into the garden, leaving me with Léonie who was reading near the window. After a few minutes, I began to call almost in a whisper: “Marie! Married!" Léonie, being used to always hearing me moan like this, paid no attention to it. Then I cried out loud and Marie came to me. I saw her enter perfectly. But unfortunately, for the first time, I didn’t recognize her. I looked all around me, I looked anxiously into the garden, and I began to call again: “Marie! Married!"

³⁶ This forced, inexplicable struggle was unspeakable suffering, and Marie suffered perhaps even more than her poor Thérèse! Finally, after vain efforts to make herself recognized, she turned to Léonie, said a word to her in a low voice, and disappeared pale and trembling.

³⁷ My little Léonie soon carried me near the window; then I saw in the garden, without recognizing her yet, Marie, walking gently, holding out her arms to me, smiling at me, and calling me in her most tender voice: “Thérèse, my little Thérèse!” This last attempt not having been more successful, my dear sister knelt weeping at the foot of my bed, and, turning towards the blessed Virgin, she implored her with the fervor of a mother who asks, who wants her. life of his child. Léonie and Céline imitated him, and it was a cry of faith that forced open the door to heaven.

³⁸ Finding no help on earth and close to dying of pain, I also turned to my Mother in heaven, begging her with all my heart to finally have pity on me.

³⁹ Suddenly the statue came to life! The Virgin Mary became beautiful, so beautiful, that I will never find an expression to render this divine beauty. Her face exuded a gentleness, a kindness, an ineffable tenderness. But what penetrated me to the depths of my soul was her ravishing smile! Then all my sorrows vanished, two big tears burst from my eyelids and flowed silently…

⁴⁰ Ah, they were tears of heavenly and unadulterated joy! The Blessed Virgin came towards me! She smiled at me… how happy I am! I thought; but I won’t tell anyone, because my happiness would disappear. Then, without any effort, I looked down, and I recognized my dear Marie! She looked at me with love, seemed very moved, and seemed to suspect the great favor I had just received.

⁴¹ Ah! It was indeed to her, to her touching prayer, that I owed this inexpressible grace of the smile of the Blessed Virgin! Seeing my gaze fixed on the statue, she said to herself: “Thérèse is cured!” Yes, the little flower was going to come back to life, a ray of light from its gentle sun had warmed it and delivered it forever from its cruel enemy! “The dark winter had just ended, the rains had stopped", and the flower of the Virgin Mary strengthened itself in such a way that, five years later, it blossomed on the fertile mountain of Carmel.

⁴² As I said, Marie was convinced that the Blessed Virgin, by restoring my health, had granted me some grace. Hidden; hidden; so, when I was alone with her, I could not resist her tender, pressing questions. Surprised to see my secret discovered without me having said a single word, I confided it entirely to hre. Alas! I was not mistaken; my happiness was going to disappear and turn into bitterness. For four years, the memory of this ineffable grace became for me a real pain of soul; and I was only to find my happiness at the feet of Notre-Dame des Victoires, in her blessed sanctuary. There it was returned to me in all its fullness; I will speak later about this second grace.

⁴³ This is how my joy turned into sadness:

⁴⁴ Marie, after hearing the naive and sincere account of my grace, asked my permission to tell everything to Carmel; I couldn’t refuse. On my first visit to this blessed Carmel, I was filled with joy when I saw my little Pauline in the habit of the Blessed Virgin. What sweet moments for both of us! There was so much to say! We had suffered so much! For me, I could barely speak, my heart was too full…

⁴⁵ You were there, my beloved Mother, and with how many signs of affection did you shower me? I also saw other nuns, and you must remember that they questioned me about the miracle of my healing: some asked me if the Blessed Virgin was carrying the Child Jesus; others, if the angels accompanied him, etc. All these questions troubled me and made me sad. I could only answer one thing: “The Blessed Virgin seemed very beautiful to me, I saw her come towards me and smile at me."

⁴⁶ Realizing that the Carmelites were imagining something completely different, I imagined I had lied. Ah! If I had kept my secret, I would also have kept my happiness. But the Virgin Mary allowed this torment for the good of my soul. Without this, perhaps, vanity would have crept into my heart. Instead, with humiliation becoming my share, I could not look at myself without a feeling of profound horror. My God, only you know what I suffered!

Chapter 4 #

¹ In recounting this visit to Carmel, I remember the first which took place after Pauline’s entry. On the morning of that happy day, I wondered what name I would be given later. I knew that there was a sister Thérèse of Jesus; however, my beautiful name of Thérèse could not be taken away from me. Suddenly I thought of little Jesus whom I loved so much, and I said to myself: “Oh! How happy I would be to be called Thérèse of the Child Jesus!” However, my revered Mother, I was careful not to express this desire to you; and now you say to me in the middle of the conversation: “When you come among us, my dear little girl, your name will be Thérèse of the Child Jesus!” My joy was great, and this happy meeting of thoughts seemed to me a delicacy from my beloved little Jesus.

² I haven’t yet talked about my love for images and reading; and yet, I owe to the beautiful images that Pauline showed me, one of the sweetest joys and the strongest impressions that have excited me to the practice of virtue. I forgot the hours while looking at them. For example, “the little flower of the divine Prisoner” told me so many things that I remained immersed in a sort of ecstasy. I offered myself to Jesus to be his little flower, I wanted to console him, to approach the tabernacle too, to be looked at, cultivated and picked by him.

³ Since I didn’t know how to play, I would have spent my life reading. Fortunately, I had visible angels to guide me who chose books for me that were within reach of my age, capable of recreating me, while nourishing my mind and my heart. I had to take only a very limited time for this chosen distraction, and this was often the subject of great sacrifices; because as soon as the hour passed, I made it a point to interrupt immediately, in the very middle of the most interesting passage.

⁴ As for the impression produced by these readings, I must admit that while reading certain chivalrous stories, I did not always understand the positive side of life. This is how, by admiring the patriotic actions of French heroines, particularly of the Venerable Joan of Arc, I felt a great desire to imitate them. I then received a grace that I have always considered one of the greatest of my life; for, at that age, I was not favored by the lights from above as I am today.

⁵ Jesus made me understand that the true, the only glory is that which will last forever. To achieve this, it is not necessary to accomplish dazzling works, but rather to hide oneself from the eyes of others and from oneself, so that the left hand is unaware of what the right is doing. Thinking then that I was born for glory, and seeking the means to achieve it, it was revealed to me internally that my glory would never appear to the eyes of mortals, but that it would consist in becoming a saint.

⁶ This desire might seem rash, if we consider how imperfect I was, and how I still am after so many years spent in religion. However, I still feel the same bold confidence of becoming a great saint. I do not count on my merits, having none; but I hope in Him who is Virtue, Holiness itself. It is he alone who, content with my feeble efforts, will elevate me to himself, cover me with his merits and make me a saint. I did not think then that it was necessary to suffer a lot to achieve holiness. The good Lord did not take long to reveal this secret to me through the trials recounted above.

⁷ Now I resume my story where I left off.

⁸ Three months after my recovery, my father took me on a pleasant trip. There, I began to know the world. Everything was joy, happiness around me; I was celebrated, pampered, admired. In a word, my life for two weeks was only strewn with flowers. Wisdom is right to say that “the bewitchment of trifles seduces the mind even when far from evil.” At ten years old, the heart is easily dazzled; and I admit that this existence had charms for me. Alas! How well the world understands to combine the joys of earth with the service of God! How little he thinks about death!

⁹ And yet, death has come to visit many of the people I knew then, young, rich, and happy! I like to return in thought to the enchanting places where they lived, to wonder where they are, what belongs to them today from the castles and parks where I saw them enjoying the comforts of life. And I think that “all is vanity on earth, apart from loving God and serving him alone.”

¹⁰ Perhaps Jesus wanted to introduce me to the world before his first visit to my soul, in order to let me choose more surely the path that I should promise him to follow.

¹¹ My first communion will always remain as a cloudless memory. It seems to me that I could not be better disposed. Do you remember, Mother, the delightful little book that you gave me, three months before the big day? This graceful means prepared me in a sustained and rapid manner. Although I had been thinking about my first communion for a long time, it was nevertheless necessary to give my heart new impetus and fill it with new flowers, as was noted in the precious manuscript. Every day, I therefore made a large number of sacrifices and acts of love which were transformed into so many flowers; sometimes they were violets, another time roses; then cornflowers, daisies, forget-me-nots. In a word, all the flowers of nature were to form in me the cradle of Jesus.

¹² Finally, I had Marie who replaced Pauline for me. Every evening, I stayed a long time near her, eager to listen to her words. What beautiful things she said to me! It seems to me that all of her heart, so great, so generous, passed through me. As ancient warriors taught their children the profession of arms, so she taught me the battle of life, exciting my ardor and showing me the glorious palm. She spoke to me again of the immortal riches that it is so easy to amass every day, of the misfortune of trampling them underfoot when, so to speak, one only has to bend down to collect them.

¹³ How eloquent this dear sister was! I wish I was not alone in hearing her profound teachings. I believed in my naivety that the greatest sinners would have been converted by listening to her, and that, leaving their perishable riches there, they would have sought only those of heaven.

¹⁴ At that time, it would have been very sweet for me to pray; but Mary, finding me quite pious, only allowed me my vocal prayers. One day, at the Abbey, one of my mistresses asked me what I did on my days off, when I stayed at Les Buissonnets. I replied timidly: “Madam, I often go and hide in a small empty space in my room, which is easy for me to close with the curtains of my bed, and there, I think… —But what about do you think? the good nun said to me, laughing. “I think of the good Lord, of the speed of life, of eternity; well, I think!" This reflection was not lost, and later my mistress liked to remind me of the time when I was thinking, asking me if I was still thinking… I understand today that I was then making a real prayer, in which the divine Master instructed gently my heart.

¹⁵ The three months of preparation for my first communion passed quickly; soon I had to go into retirement and during this time becoming a grand boarder. Ah, what a blessed retirement! I do not believe that we can experience similar joy anywhere other than in religious communities: the number of children being small, it is all the easier to take care of each one. Yes, I write it with filial gratitude: our mistresses at the Abbey then provided us with truly maternal care. I don’t know for what reason, but I clearly noticed that they were watching over me even more than over my companions.

¹⁶ Every evening, the first mistress came with her little lantern to gently open the curtains of my bed and placed a tender kiss on my forehead. She showed me so much affection that, touched by her kindness, I said to her one evening: “O Madam, I love you, so I am going to confide a great secret to you.” Then mysteriously pulling out the precious little book of Carmel, hidden under my pillow, I showed it to him with eyes shining with joy. She opened it very delicately, leafed through it carefully and pointed out to me how privileged I was. Several times, in fact, during my retirement, I experienced that very few children, like me, deprived of their mother, are as pampered as I was at that age.

¹⁷ I listened with great attention to the instructions given by Father Domin, and I carefully summarized them. As for my thoughts, I did not want to write any of them, saying that I would remember them well, which was true.

¹⁸ With what happiness I went to all the services like the nuns! I stood out among my little companions by a large crucifix given by my dear Léonie. I passed it through my belt like the missionaries, and people thought that I wanted to imitate my Carmelite sister in this way. It was indeed towards her, in fact, that my thoughts and my heart often flew! I knew she was retired also; not, it is true, so that Jesus would give himself to her, but to give herself entirely to Jesus, and this on the very day of my first communion. This solitude spent in waiting was therefore doubly dear to me.

¹⁹ Finally the beautiful day of all the days of life dawned for me! What ineffable memories the smallest details of these hours of heaven left in my soul! The joyful awakening of dawn, the respectful and tender kisses of teachers and great companions, the dressing room filled with snowflakes, with which each child saw himself adorned in turn; especially the entrance to the chapel and the singing of the morning hymn: “O holy altar surrounded by angels!”

²⁰ But I don’t want to and couldn’t say everything… There are those things that lose their scent as soon as they are exposed to the air; there are intimate thoughts which cannot be translated into the language of earth, without immediately losing their deep and celestial meaning!

²¹ Ah! How sweet was the first kiss of Jesus to my soul! Yes, it was a kiss of love! I felt loved, and I also said: “I love you; I give myself to you forever!” Jesus made no request of me; he demanded no sacrifice. For a long time now, he and little Thérèse had looked at each other and understood… That day, our meeting could no longer be called a simple look, but a fusion. There were no longer two of us: Thérèse had disappeared like a drop of water lost in the ocean, Jesus remained alone. He was the Master, the King! Hadn’t Thérèse asked him to take away her freedom? This freedom scared her; she felt so weak, so fragile, that forever she wanted to unite with the divine Force.

²² And now her joy became so great, so deep, that she could not contain it. Soon delicious tears flooded her, to the great astonishment of her companions who, later, said to each other: “Why did she cry? Didn’t she have a concern of conscience? - No, it was rather not having near her mother or her Carmelite sister whom she loves so much! And no one understood that all the joy of heaven coming into a heart, this exiled heart, weak and mortal, cannot bear it without shedding tears…

²³ How would my mother’s absence have made me sad on the day of my first communion? Since heaven lived in my soul: by receiving a visit from Jesus, I also received that of my dear mother… I did not mourn Pauline’s absence anymore; we were more united than ever! No, I repeat, joy alone, ineffable, profound, filled my heart.

²⁴ In the afternoon, I pronounced the act of Consecration to the Blessed Virgin in the name of my companions. My mistresses undoubtedly chose me because I had been deprived of my earthly mother at a very young age. Ah! I put all my heart into devoting myself to the Virgin Mary, asking her to watch over me! It seems to me that she looked lovingly at her little flower and smiled again. I remembered her visible smile which had once healed and delivered me. I knew very well what I owed her! She herself, on the morning of May 8, had she not come to place in the chalice of my soul, her Jesus, the Flower of the Fields and the Lily of the Valleys?

²⁵ In the evening of this beautiful day, Dad, taking his little queen’s hand, headed towards Carmel. And I saw my Pauline become the wife of Jesus: I saw her with her white veil like mine and her crown of roses. My joy was without bitterness. I hoped to join her soon, and wait at her side for heaven…

²⁶ I was not indifferent to the family celebration prepared at Les Buissonnets. The pretty watch my father gave me gave me great pleasure; and yet my happiness was peaceful, nothing could disturb my intimate peace. Finally, the night ended this beautiful evening; because the most radiant days are followed by darkness: only the day of the first of the eternal communion of the homeland will be without sunset!

²⁷ The next day was covered in my eyes with a certain veil of melancholy. The beautiful toilets, the gifts I had received did not fill my heart! From now on only Jesus could satisfy me, and I only sighed for the blissful moment when I would receive him a second time. I made this second communion on Ascension Day, and I had the happiness of kneeling at the Holy Table between my father and my beloved Marie. My tears still flowed with ineffable sweetness. I constantly remembered and repeated to myself the words of Saint Paul: “It is no longer I who live; it is Jesus who lives in me!" Since this second visit from Our Lord, I only aspired to receive him. Alas! The holidays then seemed very far away to me! …

²⁸ The day before these happy days, Marie prepared me as she had done for my first communion. Once, I remember, she spoke to me about suffering, telling me that instead of making me walk this way, the good Lord, without doubt, would always carry me like a little child. These words returned to my mind after my communion the following day, and my heart was inflamed with a keen desire for suffering, with the intimate certainty that a large number of crosses were reserved for me. Then my soul was flooded with such consolations as I have never had in all my life. Suffering became my attraction, I found charms in it which delighted me, without however knowing them well yet.

²⁹ I felt another great desire: that of loving only the good God, of finding joy only in Him alone. Often, during my thanksgiving, I repeated this passage from the Imitation: “O Jesus! Ineffable sweetness, change for me into bitterness all the consolations of the earth." These words fell from my lips without effort. I pronounced them like a child who repeats, without really understanding, what a friend inspires her. Later I will tell you, Mother, how Our Lord was pleased to fulfill my desire; how he was always, he alone, my ineffable sweetness. If I spoke to you about it now, I would have to anticipate my life as a young girl, and I still have many details to give you about my childhood life.

³⁰ Shortly after my first communion, I again entered into retreat for my confirmation. I had prepared myself with great care for the visit of the Holy Spirit. I could not understand why no great attention was paid to the reception of this sacrament of love. The ceremony not having taken place on the appointed day, I had the consolation of seeing my solitude somewhat prolonged. Ah, how joyful my soul was! Like the Apostles, I awaited with happiness the promised Comforter, I rejoiced to soon be a perfect Christian, and to have on my forehead, eternally engraved, the mysterious cross of this ineffable sacrament.

³¹ I did not feel the rushing wind of the first Pentecost, but rather this light breeze whose murmur the prophet Elijah heard on the mountain of Horeb. On that day, I received the strength to suffer, a strength which was very necessary to me, because the martyrdom of my soul was to begin shortly afterwards.

³² These delicious and unforgettable holidays having passed, I had to resume my life as a boarder. I did well in my studies and easily retained the meaning of things; I only had extreme difficulty learning word for word. However, for catechism, my efforts were crowned with success. The Chaplain called me his little doctor, no doubt because of my name Thérèse.

³³ During recess, I often had fun contemplating from afar the joyful antics of my companions, indulging in serious reflections. This was my favorite distraction. I had also invented a game that I really liked: I carefully looked for the poor little birds that had fallen dead under the big trees, and I buried them honorably, all in the same cemetery, in the shade of the same lawn. Other times I told stories, and often older pupils mingled with my listeners; but soon our wise mistress forbade me to continue my profession as an orator, wanting to see us run and not discourse.

³⁴ I chose as friends, at that time, two little girls of my age; but how narrow are the hearts of creatures! One of them was forced to return to her family for a few months; during her absence I took care not to forget her, and I expressed great joy at seeing her again. Alas! I only got an indifferent look! My friendship was misunderstood; I felt it keenly, and no longer begged for such fickle affection. However, the good Lord has given me a heart so faithful that, when he has loved, he always loves; so, I continue to pray for this companion, and I still love her.

³⁵ Seeing several students become particularly attached to one of the teachers, I wanted to imitate them, but could not succeed. O happy helplessness! How she saved me from great pain! How much I thank the Lord for making me find only bitterness in earthly friendships! With a heart like mine, I would have let myself be caught and cut off my wings. So how could I “fly and rest"? How can a heart given over to human affection be intimately united with God? I feel that this is not possible. I have seen so many souls, seduced by this false light, rush into it like poor butterflies and burn their wings, then return wounded to Jesus, the divine fire which burns without consuming!

³⁶ Ah! I know, Our Lord knew me too weak to expose me to temptation. No doubt, I would have been completely burned by the deceptive light of creatures; but it did not shine in my eyes. There, where strong souls encounter joy and detach themselves from it through fidelity, I have encountered only affliction. Where then is my merit in not having given myself over to these fragile attachments, since I was only preserved from them by a sweet effect of God’s mercy? Without him, I admit, I could have fallen as low as Saint Madeleine; and the profound words of the divine Master to Simon the Pharisee resounded in my soul with great sweetness. Yes, I know, “he who is given less, loves less.” But I also know that Jesus gave me more than he gave to Saint Madeleine. Ah, how I wish I could express what I feel! Here is at least an example that will reflect my thoughts a little:

³⁷ I suppose that the son of a clever doctor encounters a stone on his path which causes him to fall and break his limb. His father comes promptly, lifts him up with love, treats his wounds, using all the resources of art for this purpose; and soon his son, completely healed, showed him his gratitude. Without doubt, this child is right to love such a good father; but here’s another guess:

³⁸ The father, having learned that there is a dangerous stone on his son’s path, takes the lead and removes it without being seen by anyone. Certainly, this son, object of his foresighted tenderness, not knowing the misfortune from which he is preserved by the paternal hand, will show him no gratitude, and will love him less than if he had healed him of a mortal wound. But if he comes to know everything, will he not love it more? Well, it is I who am this child, object of the provident love of a Father “who did not send his Word to redeem the righteous, but sinners.” He wants me to love him, because he has given me, not much, but everything. Without waiting for me to love him very much, like Saint Madeleine, he let me know how he had loved me with a love of ineffable foresight, so that now I love him madly!

³⁹ I have heard it said many times, during retreats and elsewhere, that there has not been a pure soul who loves more than a repentant soul. Ah, how I would like to make these words lie!

⁴⁰ But I’m far from my subject, I don’t really know where to pick it up anymore…

⁴¹ It was during my second communion retreat that I saw myself assailed by the terrible disease of scruples. You have to have gone through this martyrdom to fully understand it. To say what I suffered for almost two years would be impossible for me! All my simplest thoughts and actions became a source of trouble and anxiety. I only had rest after entrusting everything to Marie, which cost me a lot; because I felt obliged to tell him absolutely all my most extravagant thoughts. Immediately my burden deposited, I enjoyed a moment of peace; but this peace passed like lightning, and my martyrdom began again! My God, what acts of patience have I made my dear sister do!

⁴² That year, during the holidays, we went to spend two weeks at the seaside. My aunt, always so kind, so motherly to her little girls in Les Buissonnets, gave them every pleasure imaginable: donkey rides, fishing. ’equipment, etc. She even spoiled us for our toilet. I remember one day she gave me sky blue ribbons. I was still such a child, despite being twelve and a half years old, that I felt joy tying my hair with these pretty ribbons. I had so many scruples afterwards that I confessed, in Trouville itself, to this childish pleasure which seemed to me to be a sin.

⁴³ There, I had a very profitable experience:

⁴⁴ My cousin Marie often had migraines; and my aunt on these occasions cuddled her, lavished the most tender names on her, without ever getting anything other than tears, with the invariable complaint: “I have a headache!” I, who almost every day also had a headache and did not complain about it, one fine evening I wanted to imitate Mary. So, I set about crying on an armchair in a corner of the living room. Soon my big cousin Jeanne, whom I loved very much, rushed around me; my aunt also came and asked me what the cause of my tears was. I answered like Marie: “I have a headache!”

⁴⁵ It seems that it did not suit me to complain: I could never make believe that this headache made me cry. Instead of caressing me, as she usually did, my aunt spoke to me as if she were a grown-up. Jeanne even reproached me, very gently, but with an accent of pain, of lacking confidence and simplicity towards my aunt, not telling her the real cause of my tears, which she thought was a big scruple.

⁴⁶ Finally, I got off the hook, determined not to imitate others anymore, and I understood the fable of the donkey and the little dog. I was the donkey who, witnessing the caresses lavished on the little dog, had placed his heavy hoof on the table to also receive his share of kisses. If I was not sent away with a stick, like the poor animal, I nevertheless received change in my piece, and this change cured me forever of the desire to attract attention.

⁴⁷ I return to my great test of scruples. It ended up making me ill, and they had to take me out of a boarding school at the age of thirteen. To complete my education, my father took me, several times a week, to a respectable lady from whom I received excellent lessons. These lessons had the double advantage of instructing me and bringing me closer to the world.

⁴⁸ In this antique-furnished room, surrounded by books and notebooks, I often attended numerous visits. My teacher’s mother paid for the conversation as much as possible; However, on those days, I didn’t learn much. With my nose in my book, I heard everything, even what it would have been better for me not to hear. One lady said that I had beautiful hair, another on leaving asked who this pretty young girl was. And these words, all the more flattering because they were not spoken in front of me, left me with an impression of pleasure which clearly showed me how full of self-esteem I was.

⁴⁹ How I have compassion for the souls who are lost! It is so easy to get lost in the flowery paths of the world! Without doubt, for a slightly elevated soul, the sweetness it offers is mixed with bitterness, and the immense emptiness of desires cannot be filled by a moment’s praise. But, I repeat, if my heart had not been raised towards God from its first awakening, if the world had smiled on me from my entry into life, what would have become of me? O my venerated Mother, with what gratitude I sing the mercies of the Lord! According to a word of Wisdom, did he not “remove me from the world before my mind was corrupted by its malice, and before deceptive appearances had seduced my soul"?

⁵⁰ In the meantime, I resolved to devote myself particularly to the Blessed Virgin, by requesting my admission among the Children of Mary; for this, I had to return to the convent twice a week, which cost me a little, I admit, because of my great shyness. I undoubtedly loved my good mistresses very much, and I will always be deeply grateful to them. But, as I have already said, I did not, like the other former students, have a particularly friendly mistress with whom it would have been possible to spend several hours. So, I worked in silence until the end of the work lesson; and, no one paying attention to me, I then went up to the gallery of the chapel until my father came to get me.

⁵¹ I found this silent visit my only consolation. Wasn’t Jesus my only Friend? I only knew how to speak to him; conversations with creatures, even pious conversations, tired my soul. It is true, in this neglect, I had some moments of sadness and I remember that, often then, I repeated with consolation this line of beautiful poetry that my father recited to us:

⁵² Time is your ship and not your home.

⁵³ When I was little, these words gave me courage. Even now, despite the years which make so many impressions of childish piety disappear, the image of the ship still charms my soul and helps it to bear exile. Wisdom also does not say that “life is like the ship that splits the turbulent waves and leaves behind no trace of its rapid passage?”

⁵⁴ When I think of these things, my gaze plunges into infinity; I seem to be already touching the eternal shore! I seem to receive the embraces of Jesus… I think I see the Virgin Mary coming to meet me with my father, my mother, the little angels, my brothers and sisters! I believe I will finally enjoy, forever, true, eternal family life!

⁵⁵ But before seeing myself seated in the paternal home of heaven, I had to suffer many more separations on earth. The year in which I was received as a child of the Blessed Virgin, my dear Mary delighted me, the only support of my soul. Since Pauline’s departure, she remained my only oracle, and I loved her so much that I could not live without her sweet company.

⁵⁶ As soon as I learned of his determination, I resolved to no longer take any pleasure here below; I cannot say how many tears I shed! Besides, that was my habit at that time: I cried not only on big occasions, but on the smallest ones. Here are some examples:

⁵⁷ I had a great desire to practice virtue, however I went about it in a singular way: I was not used to serving myself; Céline cleaned our room, and I didn’t do any cleaning work. Sometimes, to please God, I covered the bed, or in the evening to go, in my sister’s absence, to bring in her cuttings and her flowerpots. As I said, it was for the good Lord alone that I did these things; so, I should not have expected the mercy of the creatures. Alas! It was quite different; if Céline had the misfortune of not appearing happy and surprised by my little services, I was not happy and proved it to her with my tears.

⁵⁸ If I happened to involuntarily cause pain to someone, instead of getting the better of it, I would distress myself to the point of making myself sick, which would increase my fault rather than repair it; and, when I began to console myself for the fault itself, I cried for having cried.

⁵⁹ I was really worried about everything! It’s the opposite now; the good Lord gives me the grace of not being defeated by any passing thing. When I remember times gone by, my soul overflows with gratitude; as a result of the favors I received from heaven, such a change has taken place in me that I am not recognizable.

⁶⁰ When Mary entered Carmel, no longer able to confide to her my torments, I turned towards heaven. I spoke to the four little angels who had preceded me up there, thinking that these innocent souls, having never known trouble and fear, must have pity on their poor little sister who was suffering on earth. I spoke to them with the simplicity of a child, pointing out to them that being the youngest in the family, I had always been the most loved, the most showered with tenderness, from my parents and my sisters; that, if they had remained on earth, they would undoubtedly have given me the same proofs of affection. Their entry into heaven did not seem to me to be a reason for them to forget me; on the contrary, finding itself able to draw on the divine treasures, they were to take peace for me, and thus show me that up there we still know how to love.

⁶¹ The response was not long in coming; soon peace came to flood my soul with its delicious waves. So, I was loved, not only on earth, but also in heaven! Since that moment, my devotion has grown for my little brothers and sisters in heaven. I liked to talk with them, to tell them about the sadness of exile and my desire to soon join them in the eternal homeland.

Chapter 5 #

¹ If heaven showered me with graces, I was far from deserving them. I constantly had a strong desire to practice virtue; but what imperfections were mixed with my actions! My extreme sensitivity made me truly unbearable. All the reasoning was useless; I could not correct myself from this ugly fault.

² How could I dare hope for my imminent entry into Carmel? A small miracle was needed to make me grow up in a moment; and, this much desired miracle, the good Lord did it on the unforgettable day of December 25, 1886. On this Christmas holiday, on this blessed night, Jesus, the sweet Child of an hour, changed the night of my soul into torrents of light. By making himself weak and small for my love, He made me strong and courageous. He clothed me with his weapons, and since then I marched from victory to victory, beginning, if I may say so, “to run as a giant”. The source of my tears was dried up and opened only rarely and with difficulty.

³ I will tell you now, my Mother, in what circumstances I received this inestimable grace of my complete conversion:

⁴ Arriving at Les Buissonnets, after Midnight Mass, I found in the fireplace, as in the days of my early childhood, my shoes filled with treats-—which proves that, until then, my sisters treated me like a little baby. My father himself loved to see my happiness, to hear my cries of joy when I drew each new surprise from the enchanted shoes, and his cheerfulness further increased my pleasure. But the hour had come when Jesus wanted to deliver me from the faults of childhood and take away its innocent joys. He allowed my father, contrary to his habit of spoiling me in all circumstances, to experience boredom this time. As I went up to my room, I heard him pronounce these words which pierced my heart: “For a big girl like Thérèse, this is too childish a surprise; I hope so, this will be the last year.”

⁵ Céline, knowing my extreme sensitivity, said to me in a low voice: “Don’t come down right away, wait a little; you would cry too much looking at the surprises in front of Dad.” But Thérèse was no longer the same… Jesus had changed her heart!

⁶ Choking back tears, I quickly went down to the dining room; and, suppressing the beating of my heart, I took my shoes, placed them in front of my father, and joyfully pulled out all the objects, looking happy as a queen. Dad was laughing, there was no longer any sign of annoyance on his face, and Céline thought she was in the middle of a dream! Fortunately, it was a sweet reality: little Thérèse had just regained forever her strength of soul, once lost at the age of four and a half.

⁷ On this luminous night, the third period of my life began, the most beautiful of all, the most filled with the graces of heaven. In an instant, the work that I had not been able to do for several years, Jesus accomplished it, being satisfied with my good will. Like the Apostles, I could say: “Lord, I toiled all night without taking anything.” Even more merciful to me than he was to his disciples, Jesus himself took the net, threw it and brought it back full of fish. He made me a fisher of souls… Charity entered my heart with the need to always forget myself, and since then I have been happy.

⁸ One Sunday, while closing my book at the end of Mass, a photograph representing Our Lord on the cross slipped a little outside the pages, leaving me to see only one of his divine hands pierced and bloody. I then experienced a new, ineffable feeling. My heart broke with pain at the sight of this precious blood which fell to the ground without anyone hurrying to collect it, and I resolved to stand continually in spirit at the foot of the cross, to receive the divine dew of salvation and then sprinkle it on souls.

⁹ Since that day, the cry of the dying Jesus: “I thirst!” resounded every moment in my heart, to kindle an unknown and very lively passion. I wanted to give my Beloved a drink. I myself felt devoured by the thirst for souls, and I wanted at all costs to rescue sinners from the eternal flames.

¹⁰ In order to excite my zeal, the good Master soon showed me that my desires were pleasing to him. I heard of a great criminal—by the name of Pranzini—condemned to death for terrible murders, and whose impenitence gave rise to fears of eternal damnation. I wanted to prevent this last and irremediable misfortune. In order to achieve this, I used every spiritual means imaginable; and, knowing that of myself I could do nothing, I offered for his ransom the infinite merits of Our Lord and the treasures of holy Church.

¹¹ Should we say it? I felt deep in my heart the certainty of being granted. But in order to give myself courage to continue running to conquer souls, I made this naive prayer: “My God, I am very sure that you will forgive the unfortunate Pranzini; I would believe him even if he did not confess and gave no sign of contrition, so much do I trust in your infinite mercy. But he is my first sinner; because of this, I only ask you for a sign of repentance for my simple consolation.”

¹² My prayer was answered to the letter! My father never let us read the newspapers. However, I did not believe I was disobeying when looking at the passages which concerned Pranzini. The day after his execution, I eagerly opened the newspaper “La Croix” and what did I see?… Ah! My tears betrayed my emotion, and I was forced to flee. Pranzini, without confession, without absolution, had mounted the scaffold. Already the executioners were dragging him towards the fatal seesaw, when, suddenly moved by a sudden inspiration, he turns around, seizes a Crucifix presented to him by the priest and kisses his sacred wounds three times!…

¹³ I had therefore obtained the requested sign, and this sign was very sweet for me! Was it not in front of the wounds of Jesus, seeing his divine blood flow, that the thirst for souls had entered my heart? I wanted to give them this immaculate blood to drink, in order to purify them of their defilement—and the lips “of my first child” were glued to the divine wounds! What an ineffable response! Ah! Since this unique grace, my desire to save souls grows every day. I seemed to hear Jesus say to me in a low voice like the Samaritan woman: “Give me a drink!” It was a true exchange of love: to the souls, I shed the blood of Jesus, to Jesus, I offered these souls, refreshed by the dew of Calvary. So I thought I would quench his thirst. But the more I gave him to drink, the more the thirst of my poor little soul increased, and I received this ardent thirst as the most delicious reward.

¹⁴ In a short time, the good Lord had led me beyond the narrow circle in which I lived. The big step was therefore made. But unfortunately, I still had a long way to go!

¹⁵ Freed from its scruples, from its excessive sensitivity, my mind developed. I had always loved the big, the beautiful. At that time, I was seized with an extreme desire to know. Not content with my mistress’s lessons, I applied myself to special sciences. By this means, I acquired more knowledge in a few months than in all my years of study. Ah! Was this zeal not vanity and affliction of spirit?

¹⁶ With my fiery nature, I found myself at the most dangerous time of life. But the Lord did towards me what Ezekiel reports in his prophecies:

¹⁷ “He saw that the time had come for me to be loved; he made a covenant with me, and I became his. He spread his cloak over me. He washed me in precious perfumes. He dressed me in sparkling robes, giving me necklaces and priceless perfumes. He fed me with the purest flour, honey and oil in abundance. So, I became beautiful in his eyes, and he made me a mighty queen."

¹⁸ Yes, Jesus did all this for me! I could take up every word of this ineffable passage and show that it came true in my favor. But the graces reported above are already sufficient proof of this. I will therefore only speak of the food that the divine Master lavished on me “in abundance”.

¹⁹ For a long time I had sustained my spiritual life with “the purest flour” contained in Imitation. It was the only book that did me good, for I had not discovered the treasures hidden in the holy Gospel. This little book never left my side. In the family we had a lot of fun, and often, my aunt, opening it at random, made me recite the chapter that came before her eyes.

²⁰ At fourteen, with my desire for knowledge, the good Lord found it necessary to add to “the purest flour, honey and oil in abundance”. He made me taste this honey and this oil in the lectures of Father Arminjon on the end of the present world and the mysteries of the future life. Reading this work plunged my soul into a happiness which is not of the earth. I already had an intuition of what God had in store for those who love him; and, seeing these eternal rewards so disproportionate with the light sacrifices of this life, I wanted to love, to love Jesus with passion, to give him a thousand marks of tenderness while I still could.

²¹ Céline had become, especially since Christmas, the intimate confidante of my thoughts. Jesus, who wanted to help us move forward together, formed bonds in our hearts stronger than those of blood. He made us become soul sisters.

²² In us the words of our Father Saint John of the Cross were realized in his Spiritual Canticle:

²³ Following in your footsteps, O my Beloved,
The young girls tread lightly the path.
The touch of the spark,
The spiced wine,
Makes them produce divinely embalmed aspirations.

²⁴ Yes, it was very lightly that we followed in the footsteps of Jesus! The burning sparks sown by him in our souls, the delicious and strong wine he gave us to drink made the fleeting things of this world disappear from our eyes; and from our lips came aspirations all of love.

²⁵ With what sweetness I remember our conversations from then! Every evening, at the belvedere, we looked together into the deep blue dotted with golden stars. It seems to me that we receive very great graces. As the Imitation says: “God sometimes communicates in the midst of vivid splendor, or else, gently veiled under shadows or figures." Thus, he deigned to manifest himself to our hearts. But how transparent and light this veil was! Doubt was no longer possible; already Faith and hope had given place to love, which made us find him whom we sought on this earth. When He found us alone, “he gave us his kiss, and now no one may despise us.”

²⁶ These divine impressions were not to remain without fruit. The practice of virtue became gentle and natural to me. At first, my face betrayed the fight. But, little by little, renunciation seemed easy to me, even at the first moment. Jesus said: “To him who has more will be given, and he will have an abundance." For one grace faithfully received, he granted me a multitude of others. He gave himself to me in holy communion, more often than I would have dared to hope. I had made it a rule of conduct to make, very faithfully, all the communions permitted by my confessor, without ever asking him to increase the number. Today, I would go about it another way, because I am very sure that a soul must tell its director the attraction it feels in receiving its God. It is not to remain in the golden ciborium that he descends from heaven every day, but in order to find another heaven: the heaven of our soul where he takes his delight.

²⁷ Jesus, who saw my desire, therefore inspired my confessor to allow me several communions per week; and these permissions, coming directly from him, filled me with joy. At that time, I dared not say anything about my inner feelings; the way I walked was so straight, so bright, that I felt no need for any guide other than Jesus. I compared the directors to faithful mirrors which reflected Our Lord in souls; and I thought that, for me, the good Lord did not use an intermediary, but acted directly.

²⁸ When a gardener takes care of a fruit that he wants to ripen before the season, it is never to leave it hanging.to the tree. This is in order to present it on a richly served table. With a similar intention, Jesus lavished his graces on his little flower. He wanted to show his mercy in me. He who cried out in a transport of joy, in the days of his mortal life: “My Father, I bless you because you have hidden these things from the wise and prudent, to reveal them to the least." Because I was small and weak, he lowered himself to me and gently instructed me in the secrets of his love. As Saint John of the Cross says in his Canticle of the Soul:

²⁹ I had neither guide nor light,
Except the one that shone in my heart.
This light guided me,
More surely than that of the noonday,
To the place where
He who knows me perfectly awaited me.

³⁰ This place was Carmel; but Before I could “sit down in the shadow of the One I desired”, I had to go through many trials. And yet the divine call became so pressing that, had I had to cross the flames-I would have rushed there to respond to Our Lord.

³¹ Only my sister Agnès de Jésus encouraged me in my vocation; Mary found me too young, and you, my beloved Mother, also tried, no doubt to test me, to slow down my ardor. From the start, I encountered only obstacles. On the other hand, I didn’t dare say anything to Céline, and this silence made me suffer a lot; It was so difficult for me to hide something from him! Soon, however, this dear sister learned of my determination, and, far from trying to dissuade me, she accepted the sacrifice with admirable courage. Since she wanted to be religious, she should have left first; but, as formerly the martyrs joyfully gave the farewell kiss to their brothers, chosen first, to fight in the arena: so she let me go away, taking the same part in my trials as if he it would have been his own vocation.

³² So on Céline’s side I had nothing to fear; but I did not know what means to take to announce my plans to my father. How could I talk to him about leaving his queen when he had just sacrificed his two eldest daughters? Furthermore, that year, we saw him sick with a fairly serious attack of paralysis from which he recovered quickly, it is true, but which still gave us a lot of worry for the future.

³³ Ah, what intimate struggles did I not suffer before speaking! However, I had to decide: I was going to be fourteen and a half years old, only six months still separated us from the beautiful night of Christmas, and I was determined to enter Carmel at the same time when, the previous year, I had received my grace of conversion.

³⁴ To make my big confession I choose the feast of Pentecost. All day long, I asked for the light of the Holy Spirit, begging the Apostles to pray for me, to inspire me with the words I was going to have to say. Were they not, in fact, the ones who were to help the timid child whom God destined to become the apostle of the apostles through prayer and sacrifice?

³⁵ In the afternoon, returning from Vespers, I found the desired opportunity. My father had gone to sit in the garden, and there, with folded hands, he contemplated the wonders of nature. The setting sun gilded the tops of the tall trees with its last glow, and the little birds chirped their evening prayers.

³⁶ Her beautiful face had a heavenly expression, I felt that peace flooded her heart. Without saying a single word, I went to sit down next to him, my eyes already wet with tears. He looked at me with an indefinable tenderness, leaned my head on his heart and said to me: “What is the matter with you, my little queen? Tell me about it…" Then, getting up as if to hide his own emotion, he walked slowly, still pressing me to his heart.

³⁷ “What is wrong with you, my little queen?… entrust this to me…”
Through my tears I spoke about Carmel…

³⁸ Through my tears I spoke of Carmel, of my desires to enter soon; then he himself cried! However, he told me nothing that could distract me from my vocation. He simply pointed out to me that I was still very young to make such a serious determination; and, as I insisted, defending my cause well, my incomparable father with his upright and generous nature was soon convinced. We continued our walk for a long time. My heart was relieved and Dad no longer shed tears. He spoke to me like a saint. Approaching a low wall, he showed me small white flowers, similar to miniature lilies. Taking one of these flowers, he gave it to me, explaining to me with what care the Lord had made it bloom and preserved it to this day.

³⁹ I thought I was listening to my story, so striking was the resemblance between the little flower and little Thérèse. I received this flower like a relic. And I saw that in wanting to pick it, my father had removed all its roots without breaking them. It seemed destined to live in another, more fertile land. This same action, Dad had just done for me, by allowing me to leave, for the mountain of Carmel, the gentle valley witnessing my first steps in life.

⁴⁰ I stuck my little white flower on an image of Our Lady of Victories: the Blessed Virgin smiles at her, and little Jesus seems to hold it in his hand. That’s where it still is, only the stem has broken right near the root. The good Lord, no doubt, wants to tell me by this that he will soon break the bonds of his little flower and will not let it wither on the earth…

⁴¹ After having obtained my father’s consent, I believed I could fly to Carmel without fear. Alas! My uncle, after having in turn heard my confidences, declared that this entry at fifteen, in an austere order, seemed to him to be against human prudence; that it would be an injustice to religion to let a child embrace such a life. He added that he was going to put all possible opposition on his side, and that short of a miracle, he would not change his mind.

⁴² I realized that all reasoning was useless, and I withdrew, my heart plunged into the deepest bitterness. My only consolation was prayer. I begged Jesus to perform the miracle requested, since only at this price could I respond to his call. Quite a long time passed. My uncle no longer seemed to remember our conversation; but I learned later that, on the contrary, I worried him a lot.

⁴³ Before shining a ray of hope on my soul, the Lord wanted to send me another very painful martyrdom which lasted three days. Oh! I have never understood so well the bitter pain of the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph, searching through the streets of Jerusalem for the divine Child Jesus. I found myself in a terrible desert; or rather my soul resembled the fragile skiff delivered without a pilot at the mercy of the stormy waves. I know, Jesus was there, sleeping on my basket, but how could I see him in the middle of such a dark night? If the storm had broken out openly, lightning might have furrowed my clouds. Without doubt, it is a very sad glow, that of lightning. However, in their clarity, I would have glimpsed for a moment the Beloved of my heart.

⁴⁴ But no… it was night! The deep night, complete abandonment, a real death! Like the divine Master, in the Garden of Agony, I felt alone, finding consolation neither on earth nor in heaven. Their Nature seemed to take part in my bitter sadness: during these three days, the sun did not show a single one of its rays and the rain fell in torrents. I always remarked: in all the circumstances of my life, nature was the image of my soul. When I cried, the sky cried with me; when I felt joy, the azure of the firmament was not obscured by any cloud.

⁴⁵ On the fourth day, which was a Saturday, I went to see my uncle. What was my surprise when I found him completely changed towards me! At first, without my having expressed any desire to do so, he brought me into his office; then, beginning by gently reproaching me for my way of being, a little uncomfortable with him, he told me that the miracle required was no longer necessary; that having prayed to the good Lord to give him a simple inclination of heart, he had just obtained it. I no longer recognized him. He kissed me with the tenderness of a father, adding in a very emotional tone: “Go in peace, my dear child, you are a privileged little flower that the Lord wants to pick, I will not oppose it.”

⁴⁶ With what joy I took back the path to Les Buissonnets under the beautiful sky whose clouds had completely dissipated! In my soul too, the night had ceased. Jesus waking up had given me joy, I no longer heard the sound of the waves: instead of the wind of trial, a light breeze filled my sail, and I thought I was in port! Alas! More than one storm was still to arise, making me fear at certain times that I had strayed irrevocably from the shore so ardently desired.

⁴⁷ After having obtained my uncle’s consent, I learned from you, my venerated Mother, that the Superior of Carmel did not allow me to enter before the age of twenty-one. No one had thought of this opposition, the most serious, the most invincible of all. However, without losing courage, I went myself with my father to explain my desires to him. He received me very coldly, and nothing could change his disposition. We finally left him with a clear no: “However,” he added, “I am only Monseigneur’s delegate; if he allows this entry, I will have nothing more to say.” As we left the presbytery, we found ourselves in torrential rain; Alas! Big clouds also covered the firmament of my soul. Dad didn’t know how to console me. He promised to take me to Bayeux if I wanted; I accepted with gratitude.

⁴⁸ Many events happened before it was possible for us to accomplish this journey. On the outside, my life seemed the same: I studied, and above all I grew in the love of the good Lord. I sometimes had impulses, real transports…

⁴⁹ One evening, not knowing how to tell Jesus that I loved him and how much I wanted him to be served and glorified everywhere, I thought with pain that a single act of love would never rise from the abysses of hell. Then I cried out that, with a good heart, I would consent to see myself plunged into this place of torment and blasphemy, so that he would be loved there eternally. This could not glorify him, since he only desires our happiness; but, when we love, we feel the need to say a thousand foolish things. If I spoke thus, it was not that Heaven excited my envy; but then, my own heaven was none other than love, and I felt, in my ardor, that nothing could detach me from the divine object which had delighted me…

⁵⁰ Around this time, Our Lord gave me the consolation of seeing the souls of children up close. Here is the circumstance: during the illness of a poor mother, I took great care of her two little daughters, the eldest of whom was not six years old. It was a real pleasure for me to see with what candor they gave credence to everything I told them. Holy baptism must deposit in souls a very deep germ of theological virtues since, from childhood, the hope of future goods is enough to make sacrifices accepted. When I wanted to see my two little girls being very conciliatory with each other, instead of promising them toys and candy, I talked to them about the eternal rewards that little Jesus will give to good children. The eldest, whose reason was beginning to develop, looked at me with an expression of great joy and asked me a thousand charming questions about little Jesus and his beautiful sky. She then enthusiastically promised me to always give in to her sister, adding that never in her life would she forget the lessons of “the big lady”—that’s what she called me.

⁵¹ Considering these innocent souls, I compared them to soft wax on which any imprint can be engraved—good or evil, alas! I understood the words of Jesus: That it would be better to be thrown into the sea than to scandalize a single one of these little children. Ah! How many souls would achieve high holiness if, from the beginning, they were well directed!

⁵² I know that God does not need anyone to accomplish his work of sanctification; but, as it allows a skillful gardener to raise rare and delicate plants, giving him the necessary knowledge for this purpose, while reserving the care of fertilization; thus he wants to be helped in his divine cultivation of souls. What would happen if a clumsy horticulturist didn’t graft his trees well? what if he didn’t know how to recognize each person’s nature and wanted to make, for example, roses bloom on a peach tree?

⁵³ This makes me remember that once, among my birds, I had a canary that sang beautifully; I also had a little linnet to which I gave special care, having adopted it when it left the nest. This poor little prisoner, deprived of his parents’ music lessons and hearing from morning to evening only the joyful rolls of the canary, wanted to imitate him one fine day.—Difficult undertaking for a linot!—It was charming to see the efforts of this poor little one, whose sweet voice had great difficulty in matching the vibrant notes of his master. He succeeded, however, to my great surprise, and his song became absolutely the same as that of the canary.

⁵⁴ O my Mother, you know who taught me to sing from childhood! You know which voices charmed me! And now I hope one day, despite my weakness, to eternally repeat the song of love whose harmonious notes I have heard many times modulated here below.

⁵⁵ But where am I? These reflections have taken me too far… I quickly resume the story of my vocation.

⁵⁶ On October 31, 1887, I left for Bayeux, alone with my father, my heart filled with hope, but also very moved at the thought of presenting myself to the bishopric. For the first time in my life, I had to go for a visit without being accompanied by my sisters; and this visit was to a Bishop! I, who never needed to speak except to answer the questions addressed to me, had to explain and develop the reasons which made me request entry into Carmel, in order to provide proof of the solidity of my vocation.

⁵⁷ How much it cost me to overcome my shyness to this extent! Oh! It is very true that love never finds an impossibility, because it believes everything is possible and everything is permitted. It was, in fact, the only love of Jesus that could make me brave these difficulties and those that followed, because I had to buy my happiness through great trials. Today, without doubt, I find that I paid very little for it, and I would be ready to endure a thousand times more bitter pains to acquire it, if I did not already have it.

⁵⁸ The cataracts of the sky seemed open when we arrived at the bishop’s palace. Father Révérony, Vicar General, who himself had fixed the date of the trip, was very friendly, although a little surprised. Seeing tears in my eyes, he said to me: “Ah! I see diamonds, you must not show them to Monsignor!”

⁵⁹ We then passed through large living rooms where I felt like a little ant and wondered what I was going to dare to say! Monseigneur was at this moment walking in a gallery, with two priests; I saw Mr. the Grand Vicar exchange a few words with him and return in his company to the apartment where we were waiting. There, three enormous armchairs were placed in front of the fireplace where a blazing fire crackled.

⁶⁰ Seeing Monsignor enter, my father knelt down next to me to receive his blessing, then His Lordship made us sit down. Mr. Révérony presented me with the middle chair: I politely excused myself; he insisted, telling me to show if I was capable of obeying. I immediately complied without the slightest thought, and I had the confusion of seeing him take a chair, while I found myself buried in a monumental seat where four like me would have been at ease—more at ease than me, because I was far from being there!—I hoped that my father was going to speak; but he told me to explain the purpose of our visit. I did it as eloquently as possible, while understanding very well that a simple word from the Superior would have served me more than my reasons. Alas! His opposition hardly spoke in my favor.

⁶¹ Monsignor asked me if I had wanted Carmel for a long time.
“Oh! Yes, Monsignor, a very long time.
“Let’s see,” continued Mr. Révérony, laughing, “it still can’t be fifteen years ago!
“That’s true,” I replied, “but there aren’t many years to subtract; because I wanted to give myself to the good Lord from the age of three.”

⁶² Monsignor, believing he was pleasing my father, tried to make me understand that I should stay with him for a while longer. What was His Majesty’s surprise and edification to see Dad take my side! Adding, with an air full of kindness, that we had to go to Rome with the diocesan pilgrimage and that I would not hesitate to speak to the Holy Father, if I did not first obtain the requested permission.

⁶³ However, an interview with the Superior was required as essential, before giving us any decision. I could not hear anything that caused me more pain, because I knew his formal and well-defined opposition. So, without taking into account the recommendation of Father Révérony, I did more than show diamonds to Monsignor, I gave him some. I saw clearly that he was touched; he gave me caresses like never before, it seems, any child had received from him.

⁶⁴ “All is not lost, my dear little one,” he said to me; but I am very happy that you are making the trip to Rome with your good father: you will thus strengthen your vocation. Instead of crying, you should rejoice! Besides, next week I’m going to Lisieux; I will speak about you to Mr. Superior, and, certainly, you will receive my answer in Italy.”

⁶⁵ His Majesty then led us to the garden; my father interested him a lot by telling him that, this morning even, in order to appear older, I had worn my hair up. This was not lost! Today, I know, Monsignor does not speak to anyone about his little daughter, without telling the story of the hair. —I would have preferred, I admit, that this revelation had not happened. Mr. the Grand Vicar accompanied us to the door, saying that nothing like this had ever been seen: a father as eager to give his child to God as this child was to offer herself.

⁶⁶ It was therefore necessary to return to Lisieux without any favorable response. It seemed like my future was shattered forever; The closer I got to the end, the more I saw my affairs getting confused. However, deep down in my soul I did not cease to have great peace, because I only sought the will of the Lord.

Chapter 6 #

¹ Three days after the Bayeux trip, I had to make a much longer one: that of the Eternal City. This last trip showed me the nothingness of everything that passes. However, I have seen splendid monuments, I have contemplated all the marvels of art and religion; above all, I have trod the same ground as the saints Apostles, the earth watered with the blood of the Martyrs, and my soul was enlarged by contact with holy things.

² I am very happy to have gone to Rome; but I understand the people who supposed this journey undertaken by my father with the aim of changing my ideas of religious life. There was certainly something to shake up a poorly established vocation.

³ We first found ourselves, my sister and I, in the middle of the large crowd which almost exclusively made up the pilgrimage. Ah! Far from dazzling us, all these titles of nobility seemed to us nothing more than a “vapour of smoke”. I understood these words of the Imitation: “Do not pursue this shadow which is called a great name.” I understood that true greatness is not found in the name, but in the soul.

⁴ The Prophet tells us that the Lord will give ANOTHER NAME to his chosen ones. We read in Saint John: “The victor will receive a white stone, on which is written a NEW NAME that no one knows except the one who receives it”. It is therefore in heaven that we will know our titles of nobility. Then everyone will receive from God the praise they deserve, and He who, on earth, chooses to be the poorest, the most unknown for the love of Our Lord, will be the first, the noblest and the richest.

⁵ The second experience I had concerns priests. Until then, I could not understand the main goal of the reform of Carmel; praying for sinners delighted me but praying for priests whose souls seemed purer than crystal seemed astonishing to me! Ah! I understood my vocation in Italy. It was not a matter of looking too far for such useful knowledge.

⁶ During a month, I met many holy priests. I saw that, if their sublime dignity elevates them above the Angels, they are no less weak and fragile men. So, if holy priests, whom Jesus calls in the Gospel ’the salt of the earth’, show that they need prayers, what should we think of those who are lukewarm? Did not Jesus also say: “If the salt becomes faded, with what shall we season it?”

⁷ O my Mother, how beautiful is our vocation! It is up to us; it is up to Carmel to preserve the salt of the earth! We offer our prayers and sacrifices for the apostles of the Lord; we ourselves must be their apostles, while, through their words and their examples, they evangelize the souls of our brothers. What a noble mission is ours! But I must leave it there, I feel that, on this subject, my pen would never stop…

⁸ I will, my dear Mother, tell you about my trip with some details:

⁹ On November 4, at three o’clock in the morning, we crossed the town of Lisieux still buried in the shadows of the night. Many impressions passed through my soul: I felt myself heading towards the unknown, I knew that great things awaited me there!

¹⁰ Arriving in Paris, my father showed us all the wonders; for me, I only found one: Notre-Dame des Victoires. What I felt in his sanctuary, I cannot say. The graces she granted me were similar to those of my first Communion: I was filled with peace and happiness… It was there that my Mother, the Virgin Mary, clearly told me that it was indeed she who smiled at me and healed me. With what fervor I begged her to keep me always and make my dream come true, hiding me in the shadow of her virginal cloak! I again asked him to remove from me all occasions of sin.

¹¹ I was not unaware that, during my journey, many things would come across that could disturb me. Having no knowledge of evil, I feared discovering it. I had not experienced that all is pure for the pure, that the simple and upright soul sees no evil in anything, since evil only exists in impure hearts, and not in insensible objects. I also prayed to Saint Joseph to watch over me; Since my childhood, my devotion to him has merged with my love for the Blessed Virgin. Every day I recited the prayer: “O Saint Joseph, father and protector of virgins…” So, it seemed to me that I was well protected and completely safe from danger.

¹² After our consecration to the Sacred Heart, in the basilica of Montmartre, we left Paris on November 7. As it was a question of putting each wagon compartment under the name of a saint, it was agreed to bestow this honor on one of the priests who lived in this compartment: either by adopting his patron or that of his parish.

¹³ And behold, in the presence of all the pilgrims, we heard ours called: Saint Martin. My father, very sensitive to this delicacy, immediately went to thank Mgr Legoux, Grand Vicar of Coutances and director of the pilgrimage. Since then, several people have called him nothing other than Monsieur Saint Martin.

¹⁴ Father Révérony carefully examined all my actions; I saw him from a distance observing me. At the table, when I was not in front of him, he found a way to bend over to see and hear me. I think he must have been satisfied with his examination; for, at the end of the journey, he seemed well disposed in my favor. I say, in the end, because in Rome he was far from serving as my advocate, as I will soon say. —Nevertheless, I would not want to make people believe that he wanted to deceive me, by no longer acting ‘after the good intentions shown in Bayeux. I am convinced, on the contrary, that he always remained full of benevolence for me; if he thwarted my desires, it was only to test me.

¹⁵ Before reaching the goal of our pilgrimage, we crossed Switzerland with its high mountains whose snowy summits are lost in the clouds, its waterfalls, its deep valleys filled with gigantic ferns and pink heather.

¹⁶ My beloved Mother, what good these beauties of nature, thus spread in profusion, have done to my soul! How they raised her towards Him who was pleased to cast such masterpieces on a land of exile which should last only one day!

¹⁷ Sometimes we were carried to the top of the mountains: at our feet, precipices whose depth the eye could not fathom, seemed to want to swallow us up. Further on, we crossed a charming village with its chalets and its graceful bell tower, above which light clouds gently swayed. Here, it was a vast lake with calm and pure waves, whose azure hue mingled with the lights of the setting sun.

¹⁸ How can I express my impressions of this poetic and grandiose spectacle? I had a premonition of the wonders of heaven… Religious life appeared to me as it is, with its subjugations, its little daily sacrifices accomplished in the shadows. I understood how easy it becomes to withdraw into oneself, to forget the sublime goal of one’s vocation; and I said to myself: “Later, in the hour of trial, when, prisoner in Carmel, I will only be able to see a small corner of the sky, I will remember today. This painting will give me courage. I will no longer pay attention to my small interests while thinking of the greatness, of the power of God. I will love him only and will not have the misfortune of grasping at straws, now that my heart sees what he has in store for those who love him.”

¹⁹ After having contemplated the works of God, I was also able to admire those of his creatures. The first city in Italy that we visited was Milan. Its white marble cathedral, with its statues numerous enough to form a people, became for us the object of a particular study.

²⁰ Leaving the timid ladies to hide their faces in their hands, after having climbed the first steps of the building, we followed, Céline and I, the boldest pilgrims, and reached the last bell tower, then having the pleasure of seeing to our eyes feet the entire city of Milan, whose inhabitants looked like little ants. Having descended from our pedestal, we began our car rides which were to last a month, and to satisfy me forever with the desire to drive without fatigue.

²¹ Campo Santo delights us. Its white marble statues, which a genius chisel seems to have brought to life, are strewn across the vast field of the dead, with a sort of negligence which does not lack charm. You would almost be tempted to console the allegorical characters around you. Their expression is so true of calm and Christian pain! And what masterpieces! Here, it is a child who throws flowers on his father’s grave; we forget the heaviness of the marble: the delicate petals seem to slip between our fingers. Elsewhere, the light veil of widows and the ribbons with which the hair of young girls is adorned seem to float in the wind.

²² We found no words to express our admiration; when an old French gentleman, who followed us everywhere, no doubt regretting not being able to share our feelings, said with bad humor: “Ah! How enthusiastic the French are!” I think this poor gentleman would have done better to stay at home. Far from being happy with his trip, complaints always came out of his mouth: he was unhappy with the cities, the hotels, the people, everything.

²³ Often, my father, who could be found anywhere,—being of a character diametrically opposed to that of his derogatory neighbor—tried to cheer him, offered him his place in the car and elsewhere, showed him, with his greatness of habitual soul, the good side of things; nothing cheered him up! How many different characters we have seen! What an interesting study of the world, when we are on the verge of leaving it!

²⁴ In Venice the scene changed completely. Instead of the tumult of the great cities, we hear, in the midst of the silence, only the cries of the gondoliers and the murmur of the waves agitated by the oars. This city has its charms, but it is sad. The Doge’s Palace with all its splendors is itself sad. For a long time, the echo of its sonorous vaults no longer repeats the voices of governors, pronouncing life or death sentences in the rooms we have passed through. They stopped suffering, the unfortunate condemned people, buried alive in the dark dungeons.

²⁵ While visiting these terrible prisons, I thought I was in the time of the martyrs. I would have happily chosen this dark asylum as my home if it had been a question of confessing my faith; but soon the guide’s voice pulled me out of my reverie, and I passed over the bridge of sighs, so called because of the sighs of relief of the poor prisoners, seeing themselves delivered from the horror of the underground to which they preferred death.

²⁶ After saying farewell to Venice, we venerated the language of Saint Anthony at Padua; then, in Bologna, the body of Saint Catherine, whose face preserves the imprint of the kiss of the Child Jesus.

²⁷ I saw myself happily on the road to Lorette. How well the Blessed Virgin chose this place to place her blessed House! There, everything is poor, simple and primitive: the women have preserved the graceful Italian costume, and have not, like those in other cities, adopted the fashion of Paris. Finally, Lorette charmed me.

²⁸ What shall I say of the Holy House? My emotion was very deep in finding myself under the same roof as the Holy Family, in contemplating the walls on which Our Lord had fixed his divine eyes, in treading the earth that Saint Joseph had watered with his sweat, where Mary had carried Jesus in her arms, after having carried him in her virginal womb. I saw the little room of the Annunciation. I placed my rosary in the bowl of the Child Jesus. How delightful these memories are!

²⁹ But our greatest consolation was to receive Jesus into his house and thus become his living temple, in the very place that he had honored with his divine presence. Following Roman custom, the Holy Eucharist is kept in each church only on an altar; and only there do the priests distribute it to the faithful. In Loreto, this altar is found in the basilica where the Holy House is enclosed, like a precious diamond, in a white marble case. This didn’t suit us. It was in the diamond, not in the case, that we wanted to receive the Bread of Angels. My father, with his usual gentleness, followed the pilgrims, while his less submissive daughters headed towards Santa Casa.

³⁰ By a special privilege, a priest was prepared to celebrate his mass there; we confided our desire to him. Immediately, this devoted priest asked for two small hosts which he placed on his paten, and you can guess, Mother, the ineffable happiness of this communion! Words are powerless to translate it. So, what will it be like when we commune eternally in the dwelling place of the King of heaven? Then we will no longer see our joy end, there will no longer be the sadness of departure to darken it, it will not be necessary to furtively scratch, as we have done, the walls sanctified by the divine presence, since his house will be ours for all centuries.

³¹ He does not want to give us that of the earth, he is content to show it to us, to make us love poverty and the hidden life; that which he reserves for us is his palace of glory, where we will no longer see him veiled under the appearance of a child or a bit of bread, but as he is in the brilliance of his infinite splendor!

³² Now, it is about Rome that I am going to speak: about Rome, where I thought I would find consolation; where, alas! I found the cross! When we arrived, it was dark; and, having fallen asleep in the carriage, I was awakened by the cry of the station employees, repeated enthusiastically by the pilgrims: Roma! Rome! It wasn’t a dream; I was in Rome!

³³ Our first day, perhaps the most delightful, was spent outside the walls. There, all the monuments have preserved their ancient character; while in the center of Rome, in front of the hotels and shops, you could think you were in Paris.

³⁴ This walk in the Roman countryside left me a particularly embalmed memory. How could I translate the impression that made me shudder in front of the Coliseum? So, I finally saw this arena, where so many martyrs had shed their blood for Jesus! Already I was preparing to kiss the earth sanctified by their glorious battles. But what a disappointment! The ground having been raised; the real arena is buried approximately eight meters deep. As a result of the excavations, the center is nothing but a pile of rubble; an impassable barrier defends the entrance. Besides, no one dares to enter these dangerous ruins.

³⁵ Was it necessary to have come to Rome without going down to the Colosseum? No, it was impossible! I was no longer listening to the guide’s explanations. Only one thought occupied my mind: to go down into the arena!

³⁶ It is said in the Holy Gospel that Madeleine, remaining always near the Tomb, and stooping down several times to look inside, ended up seeing two angels. Like her, continuing to bend down, I saw, not two angels, but what I was looking for. Uttering a cry of joy, I said to my sister: “Come! Follow me, we will be able to pass!” We immediately set off, scaling the ruins which crumbled beneath our feet while my father, amazed at our audacity, called us from afar. But we couldn’t hear anything anymore.

³⁷ Just as warriors feel their courage increase in the midst of peril, so our joy grew in proportion to our fatigue and the danger we faced to achieve the goal of our desires.

³⁸ Céline, more foresighted than me, had listened to the guide. Remembering that he had just pointed out a certain small crossroads as the place where the martyrs were fighting, she began to look for it. Having found him soon, and having knelt on this blessed land, our souls were merged in the same prayer…. My heartbeat hard when I brought my lips close to the dust purple with the blood of the first Christians. I asked for the grace to also be a martyr for Jesus, and I felt deep in my soul that I was granted.

³⁹ All this lasted a very short time. After collecting a few stones, we headed towards the walls to begin our perilous enterprise again. My father seeing us so happy could not scold us; I even noticed that he was proud of our courage.

⁴⁰ After the Colosseum, we visited the Catacombs. There, Céline and Thérèse found a way to lie down together at the bottom of the ancient tomb of Saint Cecilia, and took some earth sanctified by her blessed relics.

⁴¹ Before this trip, I had no particular devotion for this saint. But by visiting her house, the place of her martyrdom, by hearing her proclaim “queen of harmony”, because of the virginal song that she made heard in the depths of her heart to her celestial Spouse, I felt for her more only devotion: a true tenderness of a friend. She became my favorite saint, my intimate confidante. What above all delighted me about her was her abandon, her unlimited confidence, which made her capable of virginizing souls who had never desired anything other than the joys of present life. Saint Cecilia is similar to the bride in Canticles. In her I see a choir in an army camp. Her life was nothing but a melodious song even in the midst of the greatest trials. This does not surprise me, since the sacred Gospel rested on her heart, and that in her heart rested the Bridegroom of virgins.

⁴² The visit to the church of Sainte-Agnès was also very pleasant for me. There, I met a childhood friend. I tried, but without success, to obtain one of his relics in order to bring it back to my little mother Agnès de Jésus. The men refusing me, the good Lord joined in a small red marble stone, standing out from a rich mosaic whose origin dates back to the time of the sweet martyrdom, fell at my feet. Wasn’t that charming? Saint Agnes herself gave me a souvenir of her house!

⁴³ Six days were spent contemplating the principal wonders of Rome; and on the seventh, I saw the greatest of all: LEO XIII. This day, I desired and feared it at the same time, my vocation depended on it; because I had received no response from Monsignor, and the permission of the Holy Father became my only plank of salvation. But, to obtain this permission, you had to ask for it! It was necessary, in front of several cardinals, archbishops and bishops, to dare to speak to the Pope! The thought alone made me tremble.

⁴⁴ It was on Sunday morning, November 20, that we entered the Vatican into the chapel of the Sovereign Pontiff. At eight o’clock we attended his mass. During the holy Sacrifice, he showed us by his ardent piety, worthy of the Vicar of Jesus Christ, that he was truly the holy Father.

⁴⁵ The Gospel of that day contained these delightful words: “Fear not, little flock; for it has pleased my Father to give you, his kingdom." And my heart abandoned itself to the liveliest confidence. No, I was not afraid, I hoped that the kingdom of Carmel would soon belong to me. I did not then think of these other words of Jesus: “I am preparing my kingdom for you, as my Father has prepared it for me." That is to say: “I reserve crosses and trials for you. Thus, you will become worthy to possess my kingdom”. “It was necessary for Christ to suffer before entering into his glory”. “If you wish to take your place at his side, drink the chalice that he himself drank.”

⁴⁶ After the mass of thanksgiving which followed that of His Holiness, the audience began.

⁴⁷ Leo XIII was seated on a high armchair, dressed simply in a white cassock and a coat of the same color. Near him stood prelates and other great ecclesiastical dignitaries. Following the ceremonial, each pilgrim knelt in turn, kissed first the foot, then the hand of the august Pontiff, and received his blessing; then two noble guards touching him with their fingers, indicated to him to get up to go to another room and give his place to the next one.

⁴⁸ Nobody said a word; but I was determined to speak when, suddenly, Father Révérony, who was standing to the right of His Holiness, warned us loudly that he absolutely forbade speaking to the Holy Father. I turned to Céline, questioning her with a look; my heart was beating like crazy…— “Speak!" she told me.

⁴⁹ A moment later, I was at the Pope’s knees. Having kissed his mule, he presented his hand to me. Then, raising my eyes bathed in tears towards him, I implored him in these words:

⁵⁰ “Most Holy Father, I have a great grace to ask of you!” Immediately, lowering his head towards me, his face almost touched mine; it was as if his deep black eyes wanted to penetrate me to the depths of my soul. “Most Holy Father,” I repeated, “in honor of your Jubilee, allow me to enter Carmel at the age of fifteen!” The Grand Vicar of Bayeux, astonished and dissatisfied, soon continued: “Most Holy Father, she is a child who desires the life of Carmel; but the superiors are looking into the matter at the moment." “Well, my child”, His Holiness said to me, “do what the superiors decide.” Then clasping my hands and resting them on his knees, I made one last effort: “O Most Holy Father, if you said yes, everyone would like it!”

⁵¹ He looked at me fixedly, and pronounced these words, emphasizing each syllable in a penetrating tone: “Come… Come… you will enter if the good Lord wishes."

⁵² I was about to speak again, when two noble guards invited me to stand up. Seeing that this was not enough, they took me by the arms and Mr. Révérony helped them to lift me, because I still remained with my hands folded resting on the Pope’s knees. At the moment when I was thus taken away, the good Holy Father gently placed his hand on my lips, then, raising it to bless me, he followed me with his eyes for a long time.

⁵³ My father was very sad when he found me all in tears after the audience: having gone before me, he knew nothing of my approach. For him, Mr. the Grand Vicar could not have been more friendly, presenting him to Leo XIII as the father of two Carmelites. The Sovereign Pontiff, as a sign of particular benevolence, had placed his hand on his venerable head, thus seeming to mark him with a mysterious seal in the name of Christ himself.

⁵⁴ Ah! Now that he is in heaven, this father of four Carmelites, it is no longer the hand of the representative of Jesus which rests on his forehead, prophesying martyrdom for him, it is the hand of the Spouse of virgins, of the King heaven; and never again will this divine hand withdraw from the front it has glorified.

⁵⁵ My trial was great; but, having done absolutely everything that depended on me to respond to the call of the good Lord, I must admit that, despite my tears, I felt deep in my heart a great peace. However, this peace resided in the intimate, and bitterness filled my soul to the brim… And Jesus was silent… He seemed absent; nothing revealed his presence to me.

⁵⁶ That day again, the sun did not dare to shine; and the beautiful blue sky of Italy, loaded with dark clouds, never ceased to cry with me. Ah, it was finished! My trip no longer had any charm in my eyes, since the goal had just been missed. However, the last words of the Holy Father should have consoled me like a true prophecy. Indeed, despite all the obstacles, what the good Lord wanted was accomplished: he did not allow creatures to do what they wanted, but his own will.

⁵⁷ For some time now, I had offered myself to the Child Jesus to be his little toy. I told him not to use me as an expensive toy that children just look at without daring to touch; but like a little ball of no value, which he could throw to the ground, push with his foot, pierce, leave in a corner, or press to his heart if it pleased him. In a word, I wanted to amuse little Jesus and indulge in his childish whims.

⁵⁸ He had just answered my prayer! In Rome, Jesus pierced his little toy… he probably wanted to see what was inside… and then, happy with his discovery, he dropped his little ball and fell asleep. What did he do during his sweet sleep, and what became of the abandoned ball?—Jesus dreamed that he was still having fun; that he took her and left her in turn; that he sent her rolling far away and finally pressed her to his Heart, never again allowing her to move away from his little hand.

⁵⁹ You understand, Mother, the sadness of the little ball when it sees itself on the ground! However, she never stopped hoping against all hope.

⁶⁰ A few days after November 20, my father, having gone to visit the venerated Brother Siméon,—director and founder of the Collège Saint-Joseph—met Father Révérony in the establishment, and kindly reproached him for not having helped in my difficult undertaking; then he told the story to Dear Brother Siméon. The good old man listened to this story with great interest, even took notes and said with emotion: “You don’t see that in Italy!”

⁶¹ The day after the memorable day of the audience, we had to leave for Naples and Pompeii. Vesuvius, in our honor, fired numerous cannon shots, letting a thick column of smoke escape from its crater. His traces on Pompeii are frightening! They show the power of God who looks upon the earth and makes it tremble, who touches the mountains and reduces them to ashes. I would have liked to walk alone among the ruins, meditating on the fragility of human things; but there was no need to think of this solitude.

⁶² In Naples we took a wonderful walk to the Monastery of San Martino, located on a high hill overlooking the entire city. But, on the way back, our horses took the bit in their teeth, and I only attribute to the protection of our guardian angels that they arrived safely at our splendid hotel. This splendid word is not too much; Throughout our trip, we stayed in princely hotels. I had never been surrounded by so much luxury. It is indeed the case to say it: wealth does not make happiness. I would have found myself a thousand times happier under a thatched roof, with the hope of Carmel, than next to gilded paneling, marble stairs, silk carpets, with bitterness in my heart.

⁶³ Ah! I felt it well, joy is not found in the objects that surround us, it resides in the most intimate parts of the soul. It can be possessed in the depths of an obscure prison as well as in a royal palace. Thus, I am happier in Carmel, even in the midst of interior and exterior trials, than in the world where I lacked nothing, especially the sweetness of my father’s home.

⁶⁴ Although my soul was immersed in sadness, on the outside I was the same; because I believed my request to the Holy Father was hidden. Soon I was able to convince myself otherwise. Left alone one day in the wagon with my sister, while the pilgrims were going down to the buffet, I saw Mgr Legoux present himself at the door. After taking a good look at me, he said to me, smiling: “Well, how is our little Carmelite?” I then understood that the entire pilgrimage knew my secret; Besides, I noticed it from certain sympathetic glances, but fortunately no one spoke to me about it.

⁶⁵ In Assisi a little adventure happened to me. After visiting the places embalmed by the virtues of Saint Francis and Saint Clare, I lost my belt buckle in the monastery. The time it took to find it and adjust it to the ribbon made me miss the departure time. When I presented myself at the door, all the cars had disappeared, except for one: that of the Grand Vicar of Bayeux! Should I run after the cars that I no longer saw, risk missing the train, or ask for a place in Mr. Révérony’s carriage? I decided on this wisest course.

⁶⁶ Trying to appear very unembarrassed, despite my extreme embarrassment, I explained my plight to him and embarrassed himself, because his car was absolutely complete. But one of these gentlemen hastened to get off and, making me climb into his place, went and sat modestly near the coachman. I looked like a squirrel caught in a trap! I was far from feeling at ease, surrounded by all these great people, right opposite the most formidable! He was, however, very kind to me, interrupting the conversation from time to time to talk to me about Carmel, and promising to do everything that depended on him to realize my desire to enter at fifteen.

⁶⁷ This meeting put balm on my wound, without however stopping me from suffering. I had lost confidence in the creature and could no longer rely on God alone.

⁶⁸ However, my sadness did not prevent me from taking a keen interest in the holy places we visited. In Florence, I was happy to contemplate Saint Madeleine de Pazzi in the middle of the Carmelite choir. All the pilgrims wanted to touch their rosaries to the tomb of the saint; but only my hand was small enough to pass through the holes in the grate. Thus, I saw myself entrusted with this noble office which lasted a long time and made me very proud.

⁶⁹ It wasn’t the first time I got privileges. In Rome, in the Church of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem, we venerated several fragments of the true Cross, two thorns and one of the sacred nails. In order to consider them at my ease, I made sure to remain last; and as the monk in charge of these precious treasures was preparing to place them back on the altar, I asked him if I could touch them. He answered me in the affirmative, appearing to doubt whether I would succeed. I then passed my little finger through an opening in the reliquary, and was thus able to touch the precious nail which was bathed in the blood of Jesus. As you can see, I acted towards him like a child who thinks she can do anything and regards her father’s treasures as her own.

⁷⁰ After passing through Pisa and Genoa, we returned to France on a most splendid route. Sometimes we walked along the sea; and, following a storm, the railway, one day, was so close to it that the waves seemed to reach us. Further on, we crossed plains covered with orange trees, olive trees and graceful palm trees. In the evening, the numerous seaports were lit up with dazzling lights, while the first stars sparkled in the azure firmament. It was without regret that I saw this magical picture disappear; my heart yearned for other wonders!

⁷¹ However, my father still suggested a trip to Jerusalem; but, despite the natural attraction which led me to visit the places sanctified by the passage of Our Lord, I was tired of earthly pilgrimages, I only desired the beauties of heaven; and, to give them to souls, I wanted to become a prisoner as soon as possible.

⁷² Alas! Before seeing the doors of my blessed prison open, I felt, I still had to struggle and suffer; However, my confidence did not diminish, and I hoped to enter on December 25, Christmas Day.

⁷³ Barely back in Lisieux, our first visit was to Carmel. What an interview! You remember it, my Mother! I abandoned myself completely to you, having on my side exhausted all resources. You tell me to write to Monseigneur and remind him of his promise: I obey immediately. The letter thrown in the post; I thought I would receive permission to fly without any delay. Every day, alas! New disappointment! The beautiful Christmas celebration arrived, and Jesus was still sleeping. He left his little ball on the ground without even looking at it!

⁷⁴ This ordeal was very great. But He whose Heart always watches taught me that, for a soul whose faith equals only a small grain of mustard seed, he grants miracles, with the aim of strengthening this very small faith. But for his close friends, like his Mother, he did not perform miracles before having tested their faith. Did he not let Lazarus die, although Martha and Mary had sent him word that he was ill? At the wedding at Cana, the Blessed Virgin having asked Jesus to help the master of the house, did he not reply that his time had not come? But after the ordeal, what a reward! The water changes into wine, Lazarus is resurrected… Thus, the Beloved acts with his little Thérèse: after having tested her for a long time, he fulfilled all her desires.

⁷⁵ For my New Year’s gifts on January 1, 1888, Jesus again gave me his cross. You tell me, my venerated Mother, that you have had Monsignor’s response in hand since December 28, Feast of the Holy Innocents; that this response authorized my immediate entry, while you were determined not to open to me until after Lent! I could not hold back my tears at the thought of such a long delay. This ordeal had a very special character for me: I saw my ties broken towards the world, and now the Holy Ark in its turn refused to take in the poor little dove!

⁷⁶ How did these three months go, so rich for my soul in suffering, but even more in graces of all kinds? At first it occurred to me not to embarrass myself, to lead a less regulated life than usual; then the good Lord made me understand the benefit of the time offered to me, and I resolved to devote myself more than ever to a serious and mortified life.

⁷⁷ When I say mortified, I do not mean the penances of the saints. Far from resembling the beautiful souls who, from their childhood, practice all kinds of macerations, I made mine consist solely of breaking my will, of withholding a word of reply, doing small favors around me without showing them off, and a thousand other things of this kind. By practicing these nothings, I prepared myself to become the bride of Jesus, and I cannot say how much this expectation made me grow in abandonment, humility and other virtues.

Chapter 7 #

¹ Monday, April 9, 1888, was chosen for my entry.—It was the day on which the feast of the Annunciation was celebrated at Carmel, postponed because of Lent.—The day before, we all found ourselves gathered around this family table where I had to sit one last time. That these goodbyes are heartbreaking! While we would like to see ourselves forgotten, the most tender words escape from everyone’s lips, as if to make the sacrifice of separation more felt.

² In the morning, after taking a last look at Les Buissonnets, this graceful nest of my childhood, I left for Carmel. I attended Holy Mass, surrounded as the day before by my dear parents. At the moment of communion, when Jesus had descended into their hearts, I only heard sobbing. As for me, I shed no tears; but as I walked first to get to the closing gate, my heart was beating so violently that I wondered if I wasn’t going to die. Ah, what a moment! What agony! You have to have experienced it to understand it.

³ I kissed all my loved ones and knelt before my father to receive his blessing. He himself knelt down and blessed me while weeping. It was a spectacle that must have made the angels smile, that of this old man presenting his child to the Lord, still in the spring of life. Finally, the doors of Carmel closed on me… I fell into your arms, my beloved Mother; and there, I received the embraces of a new family whose devotion and tenderness one does not suspect in the world.

⁴ My desires were therefore finally realized; my soul felt a peace so sweet and so deep that it would be impossible for me to express it. And, for 8 and a half years, this intimate peace has remained my share; she did not abandon me, even in the midst of the greatest trials.

⁵ Everything in the monastery seemed delightful to me; I thought I was transported into a desert; our little cell especially charmed me. However, I repeat, my happiness was calm, the slightest zephyr did not ripple the calm waters on which my little boat sailed. No clouds did not obscure my azure sky. Ah! I found myself fully rewarded for all my trials! With what deep joy I repeated: “Now I am here forever!”

⁶ This happiness was not ephemeral; it should not disappear with the illusions of the first days. Illusions! The good Lord has preserved me from it in his mercy. I found religious life as I had imagined it; no sacrifice surprised me; and yet, you know, Mother, my first steps encountered more thorns than roses.

⁷ At first, I had only the daily bread of bitter drought for my soul. Then the Lord allowed, my venerated Mother, that, even without your knowledge, I was treated very severely by you. I could not meet you without receiving some reproach. Once, I remember that having left a spider’s web in the cloister, you said to me in front of the whole community: “We can clearly see that our cloisters are being swept away by a fifteen-year-old child! It’s a pity! So go and remove this cobweb and be more careful in the future.”

⁸ In the rare directions where I stayed near you for an hour, I was still scolded almost all the time; and what bothered me the most was not understanding how to correct my faults: for example, my slowness, my lack of dedication in office; faults that you pointed out to me, my Mother, in your concern and your kindness for me.

⁹ One day, I said to myself that, no doubt, you wanted to see me use the hours of free time, usually devoted to prayer, at work, and I moved my little needle without looking up; but, as I wanted to be faithful and only act under the gaze of Jesus, no one ever knew about it.

¹⁰ During my postulancy, our Mistress sent me in the evening, at half past four, pulling grass in the garden: it cost me a lot; all the more so, Mother, as I was almost sure of meeting you on the way. You say in one of these circumstances: “But anyway, this child does absolutely nothing! What then is a novice who must be sent out for a walk every day?” And, in all things, you acted thus towards me.

¹¹ O my beloved Mother, how I thank you for giving me such a strong and precious education! What invaluable grace! What would have become of me if, as the people of the world believed, I had been the toy of the community? Perhaps instead of seeing Our Lord in my superiors, I would have only considered the creature, and my heart, so well-guarded in the world, would have attached itself humanly in the cloister. Fortunately, by your maternal wisdom, I was preserved from this real misfortune.

¹² Yes, I can say it, not only for what I have just written, but for other even more sensitive trials, suffering stretched out its arms to me as soon as I entered, and I embraced it with love. What I came to do at Carmel, I declared in the solemn examination which preceded my profession: I came to save souls, and above all to pray for the priests. When you want to achieve a goal, you have to take the means; and Jesus having made me understand that he would give me souls through the cross, the more crosses I encountered, the more my attraction to suffering increased. For five years, this path was mine; but I was the only one who knew her. This is precisely the unknown flower that I wanted to offer to Jesus, this flower whose perfume is only exhaled from the heavens.

¹³ Reverend Father Pichon, two months after my entry, was surprised himself by the action of God on my soul; he thought my fervor was childish and my way very sweet. My conversation with this good Father would have brought me great consolation, without the extreme difficulty I experienced in expressing myself. However, I made him a general confession, after which he uttered these words: “In the presence of God, the Blessed Virgin, the Angels and all the Saints, I declare that you have never committed a single mortal sin; thank the Lord for what he has done for you freely, without any merit on your part.”

¹⁴ Without any merit on my part! Ah! I couldn’t believe it! I felt how weak and imperfect I was: only gratitude filled my heart. The fear of having tarnished the white robe of my baptism made me suffer greatly, and this assurance, coming from the mouth of a director as desired by our Mother Saint Thérèse, that is to say, “uniting science to virtue”, seemed to me to come from God himself. The good Father said to me again: “My child, may Our Lord always be your Superior and your Master of novices.” He was indeed, and also my Director. By this I do not mean that my soul was closed to my superiors; far from hiding my dispositions from them, I have always tried to be an open book for them.

¹⁵ Our Mistress was a true saint, the perfect type of the first Carmelites; I never left her side for a moment, because she taught me how to work. His goodness for me cannot be expressed, I loved him very much, I appreciated him; and yet my soul did not expand. I didn’t know how to express what was happening inside me, I lacked words, my directions became torture, a real martyrdom.

¹⁶ One of our ancient Mothers seemed to understand one day what I was feeling. She said to me at recess: “My little girl, it seems to me that you must not have much to say to your superiors." —“Why do you think that, Mother?” —“Because your soul is extremely simple; but when you are perfect, you will become even simpler; the closer we get to God, the more we simplify ourselves.”

¹⁷ The good Mother was right. However, the extreme difficulty I experienced in opening up, despite coming from my simplicity, was a real test. Today, without ceasing to be simple, I express my thoughts with great ease.

¹⁸ I said that Jesus served as my director. The Reverend Father Pichon had barely taken charge of my soul when his superiors sent him to Canada. Reduced to receiving only one letter per year, the little flower transplanted on the mountain of Carmel quickly turned to the Director of directors and blossomed in the shadow of his cross, having as beneficial dew his tears, his blood divine, and for radiant sunshine his adorable Face.

¹⁹ Until then I had not fathomed the depth of the treasures contained in the Holy Face; it was my little Mother Agnès of Jesus who taught me to know them. Just as in the past she had preceded her three sisters to Carmel, in the same way she was the first to penetrate the mysteries of love hidden in the Face of our Spouse. So, she revealed them to me, and I understood… I understood better than ever what true glory is. He whose kingdom is not of this world showed me that the only enviable royalty consists of wanting to be ignored and counted for nothing, to find joy in self-contempt. Ah! Like that of Jesus, I wanted my face to be hidden from all eyes, so that on earth no one would recognize me: I thirsted to suffer and be forgotten.

²⁰ How merciful is the path by which the divine Master has always led me! He never made me want something without giving it to me; that is why its bitter chalice seemed delicious to me.

²¹ At the end of May 1888, after the beautiful feast of the Profession of Mary, our eldest, which Thérèse, the Benjamin, had the favor of crowning with roses on the day of her mystical wedding, the ordeal came to visit my family again. Since his first attack of paralysis, we noticed that our good father tired very easily. During our trip from Rome, I often noticed that his face betrayed exhaustion and suffering. But above all what struck me was his admirable progress on the path to holiness; he had managed to master his natural vivacity and the things of the earth barely seemed to touch him.

²² Allow me, my Mother, to cite to you in this regard a small example of her virtue:

²³ During the pilgrimage, the days and nights in the wagon seemed long to the travelers, and we saw them undertake card games which sometimes became stormy. One day, the players asked us for our help: we refused, citing our lack of knowledge in this matter; We did not find the time long like them, but too short to contemplate at leisure the magnificent panoramas which presented themselves to our eyes. Discontent soon broke through. Our dear little father, speaking calmly, defended us, suggesting that being on a pilgrimage, prayer did not have a large enough place.

²⁴ One of the players, forgetting the respect due to white hair, exclaimed without thinking: “Fortunately, Pharisees are rare!” My father did not answer a word, he even seemed holy joy and found the way a little later to shake this gentleman’s hand, accompanying this beautiful action with a kind word which could make one believe that the invective had not been heard, or at least that it had been forgotten.

²⁵ Besides, this habit of forgiving did not date back to that day. According to the testimony of my mother and all those who knew him, he never uttered a word against charity.

²⁶ His faith and generosity were also unfailing. Here are the words in which he announced my departure to one of his friends: “Thérèse, my little queen, entered Carmel yesterday. Only God can require such a sacrifice; but he helps me so powerfully that in the midst of my tears my heart overflows with joy.”

²⁷ This faithful servant needed a reward worthy of his virtues, and this reward he himself asked from God. O my Mother, do you remember this day, this parlor, when my father said to us: “My children, I have just returned from Alençon, where I received such great graces in the Notre-Dame church, from such consolations, that I prayed: “My God, it is too much! Yes, I’m too happy, it’s not possible to go to heaven like that. I want to suffer something for you! And I offered myself…” The word victim expired on his lips, he didn’t dare say it in front of us, but we understood!

²⁸ You know, my Mother, all our bitterness! These heartbreaking memories, I don’t need to write the details…

²⁹ However, the time of my taking up the habit arrived. Against all hope, my father having recovered from a second attack, Monseigneur fixed the ceremony for January 10. The wait had been long; but also, what a beautiful celebration! Nothing was missing, not even snow.

³⁰ Have I told you, Mother, about my predilection for snow? When she was very small, her whiteness delighted me. Where did this taste for snow come from? Perhaps because, being a little winter flower, the first adornment with which my childish eyes saw the earth embellished was its white coat. So, I wanted to see, on the day I took my habit, nature like me dressed in white. But the day before, the temperature was so mild that it felt like spring, and I no longer expected snow. On the 10th, in the morning, no change! So, I left my unrealizable desire for a child there and left the monastery.

³¹ My father was waiting for me at the closing gate. Coming towards me, his eyes full of tears, and pressing me to his heart: “Ah!" he exclaimed, “there she is, my little queen!" Then, offering me his arm, we solemnly entered the chapel. This day was his triumph, his last celebration here on earth! All his offerings were made, his family belonged to God. Céline having confided to him that later she would also abandon the world for Carmel, this incomparable father responded in a transport of joy: “Come, let us go together before the Blessed Sacrament to thank the Lord for the graces he grants to our family, and of the honor he does me to choose wives in my house. Yes, the good Lord does me a great honor by asking me for my children. If I had something better, I would give it to him.” This best was himself! And the Lord received him as a sacrifice of burnt offering, he tested him like gold in the furnace and found him worthy of him.

³² After the exterior ceremony, when I returned to the monastery, Monsignor intoned the Te Deum. A priest pointed out to him that this hymn was only sung at professions, but the momentum was given, and the hymn of thanksgiving continued until the end. Didn’t this celebration have to be complete, since all the others were united in it?

³³ As I set foot in the fence, my gaze first fell on my pretty little Jesus who smiled at me in the middle of the flowers and the lights; then turning towards the courtyard, I saw it all covered in snow! What delicacy of Jesus! Fulfilling the desires of his little fiancée, he gave her snow! Who is the mortal, however powerful he may be, who can make a single flake fall from the sky to charm his beloved?

³⁴ Everyone was astonished at this snow as if it were a real event, because of the contrary temperature; and since then, many people aware of my desire have often spoken, I know, of “the little miracle" of my taking on the habit, finding that I had a singular taste for loving snow… So much the better! This brought out even more the incomprehensible condescension of the Spouse of virgins, of Him who cherishes lilies white as snow.

³⁵ Monsignor entered after the ceremony and showered me with all kinds of paternal kindness: he reminded me, in front of all the priests who surrounded him, of my visit to Bayeux, my trip to Rome, without forgetting the raised hair. Then, taking my head in his hands, His Lordship caressed me a long time. Our Lord then made me think with ineffable sweetness of the caresses that he would soon lavish on me before the assembly of the Saints, and this consolation became like a foretaste of celestial glory.

³⁶ I have just said that the day of January 10 was the triumph of my good father. I compare this celebration to the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, on Palm Sunday. Like that of our divine Master, his one-day glory was followed by a painful passion. And just as the sufferings of Jesus pierced the heart of his divine Mother, so our hearts deeply felt the wounds and humiliations of the one we loved most on earth…

³⁷ I remember that in June 1888—at a time when we feared cerebral palsy for him—I surprised our Mistress by saying to her: “I am suffering a lot, Mother, but I feel it, I can suffer even more." I didn’t think then of the ordeal that awaited us. I did not know that, on February 12, a month after I took the habit, our revered father would drink from such a bitter chalice!… Ah! I didn’t say then I could suffer more! Words cannot express my anxieties and those of my sisters. I won’t try to write them…

³⁸ Later, in heaven, we will like to talk about these dark days of exile. Yes, the three years of my father’s martyrdom seem to me the sweetest, the most fruitful of our lives. I would not exchange them for the most sublime ecstasies. And my heart, in the presence of this inestimable treasure, cries out in gratitude: “Bless you, my God, for these years of grace which we have spent in evils."

³⁹ O my beloved Mother, how precious and sweet was our bitter cross, since from all our hearts only sighs of love and gratitude escaped! We no longer walked, we ran, we flew along the paths of perfection.

⁴⁰ Léonie and Céline were no longer part of the world, while living in the middle of the world. The letters they wrote to us at that time are marked by an admirable resignation. And what visiting rooms I spent with my Céline! Ah! Far from separating us, the gates of Carmel united us more strongly: the same thoughts, the same desires, the same love of Jesus and souls made us live. Never a word of earthly things mixed into our conversations. As before at Les Buissonnets, we no longer looked, but our hearts, beyond space and time; and, to soon enjoy eternal happiness, we chose suffering and contempt here below.

⁴¹ My desire for suffering was fulfilled. However, my attraction for them did not diminish, so my soul soon shared the trial of the heart. The drought increased; I found no consolation either in heaven or on earth; and yet, in the midst of these waters of tribulation that I had called for with all my wishes, I was the happiest of creatures.

⁴² Thus passed the time of my engagement; alas, too long for my desires! At the end of my year, you told me, Mother, not to think about making profession, that Mr. Superior was formally opposed to it; and I had to wait another eight months! At first, it was difficult for me to accept such a sacrifice; but soon the divine light penetrated into my soul.

⁴³ I then meditated on the Foundations of Spiritual Life by Father Surin. One day, during prayer, I understood that my such strong desire to pronounce my vows was mixed with great self-love. Since I belonged to Jesus as his little toy, to console him and rejoice him, I should not force him to do my will instead of his. I further understood that, on her wedding day, a bride would not be pleasing to her husband if she was not adorned with magnificent ornaments, and I had not yet worked towards this goal. Then I said to Our Lord: “I no longer ask you to make profession, I will wait as long as you wish; only I cannot allow my union with you to be postponed through my fault. I will therefore take all my care to make myself a dress enriched with diamonds and precious stones of all kinds. When you find it rich enough, I am sure that nothing will prevent you from taking me as your wife.”

⁴⁴ I set to work with new courage. Since taking the habit, I had already received abundant light on religious perfection, mainly on the subject of the vow of poverty. During my postulate, I was happy to have neat things to use and to find what I needed at hand. Jesus suffered this patiently; because he does not like to show everything to souls at the same time, he usually only gives his light little by little.

⁴⁵ At the beginning of my spiritual life, around the age of thirteen or fourteen, I wondered what I would gain later, I then believed it impossible to better understand perfection; but I quickly recognized that the further we advance on this path, the further we believe ourselves to be from the end. Now I resign myself to always seeing myself as imperfect, and I even find joy in it.

⁴⁶ I return to the lessons that Our Lord gave me. One evening, after Compline, I looked in vain for our lamp on the boards intended for this use; it was great silence, impossible to claim her. I rightly tell myself that a sister, thinking she was taking her lantern, had taken ours. But was it necessary to spend an entire hour in darkness because of this mistake? That evening, I was planning to work a lot. Without the interior light of grace, I would certainly have complained. With her, instead of feeling sorrow, I was happy, thinking that poverty consists of seeing oneself deprived, not only of pleasant, but essential things. And in the outer darkness I found my soul illuminated with divine clarity.

⁴⁷ At that time I was seized with a true love for the ugliest and least convenient objects: thus, I experienced joy when I saw the pretty little jug from our cell taken away, to receive in its place a large jug all chipped. I also tried very hard not to apologize, which was very difficult for me, especially with our Mistress from whom I would not have wanted to hide anything.

⁴⁸ My first victory is not great, but it cost me a lot. A small vase, left by I don’t know who behind a window, was found broken. Our Mistress, believing me guilty of having left it lying around, told me to be more careful another time, that I was totally lacking in order; finally, she seemed dissatisfied. Without saying anything, I kissed the earth, then I promised to have more order in the future. Because of my lack of virtue, these little practices, as I said, cost me a lot, and I needed to think that on the Day of Judgment everything would be revealed.

⁴⁹ I applied myself especially to small, well-hidden acts of virtue; so, I liked to fold the coats forgotten by the sisters, and I looked for a thousand opportunities to be of service to them. The attraction for penance was also given to me; but nothing was allowed to satisfy him. The only mortifications granted to me consisted of mortifying my self-esteem, which did me better than corporal penances.

⁵⁰ However, the Blessed Virgin helped me prepare the dress of my soul; as soon as it was completed, the obstacles vanished, and my profession was fixed for September 8, 1890. Everything I have just said in so few words would require many pages; but these pages will never be read on earth…

Chapter 8 #

¹ Should I speak to you, Mother, about my retirement from my profession? Far from being consoled, the most absolute aridity, almost abandonment, were my share. Jesus was sleeping as always in my little basket. Ah! I rarely see souls let him sleep peacefully in them. This good Master is so tired of continually making expenses and advances, that he hastens to take advantage of the rest that I offer him. He will probably not wake up before my great retreat from eternity. Instead of being sad, this gives me extreme pleasure.

² Truly, I am far from being holy. This provision alone is proof of it: I should not rejoice in my dryness, but attribute it to my lack of fervor and fidelity. I should regret sleeping very often during my prayers and my thanksgiving. Well, I’m not sorry! I think that little children please their parents as much when they are asleep as when they are awake. I think that, to carry out operations, doctors put their patients to sleep. Finally I think that the Lord sees our fragility. He remembers that we are only dust.

³ My professional retirement was therefore, like those that followed, a retirement of great aridity. However, without me even realizing it, the means of pleasing God and practicing virtue were then clearly revealed to me. I have noticed many times that Jesus does not want to give me provisions. He feeds me every moment with completely new food; I find it in me, without knowing how it is there. I simply believe that it is Jesus himself, hidden deep in my poor little heart, who acts in me in a mysterious way and inspires me to do everything he wants me to do in the present moment.

⁴ A few hours before my profession, I received from Rome, through the venerated Brother Siméon, the blessing of the Holy Father, a very precious blessing which certainly helped me to weather the most furious storm of my entire life.

⁵ During the pious vigil, usually so sweet, which precedes the dawn of the great day, my vocation suddenly appeared to me like a dream, a chimera. The demon—for it was he—instilled in me the assurance that the life of Carmel did not suit me in any way, that I was deceiving the superiors by advancing on a path to which I was not called. My darkness became so thick that I only understood one thing: not having a religious vocation, I had to return to the world.

⁶ Ah, how to portray my anxieties! What to do in such perplexity? I decided on the best course: to discover this temptation to our Mistress without delay. So, I took her out of the choir; and, filled with confusion, I confessed to her the state of my soul. Fortunately, she saw more clearly than me, just laughed at my confidence and reassured me completely. Besides, the act of humility that I had just performed had put the demon to flight as if by magic. What he wanted was to prevent me from confessing my trouble and, thereby, draw me into his traps. But I caught it in my turn: to make my humiliation more complete, I also wanted to tell you everything, my beloved Mother, and your consoling response completed the dissipation of my doubts.

⁷ From the morning of September 8, I was flooded with a river of peace and, in this peace which surpasses all understanding, I pronounced my holy vows. How many graces have I not asked for! I really felt like the “queen”, and I took advantage of my title to obtain all the favors of the King towards his ungrateful subjects. I didn’t forget anyone. I wanted this: on that day all the sinners of the earth are converted, so that purgatory no longer contains a single captive. I also carried on my heart this little note containing what I wanted for myself:

⁸ “O Jesus, my divine Spouse, let the robe of my baptism never be tarnished! Take me, rather ford to let me here below defile my soul by committing the smallest voluntary fault. That I only ever seek and find you alone! May creatures be nothing to me, and I, nothing to them! Let none of the things of earth disturb my peace.

⁹ “O Jesus, I only ask you for peace!… Peace, and above all LOVE WITHOUT limits, without limits! Jesus, that for you I die a martyr! Give me martyrdom of the heart or that of the body. Ah! Rather, give them both to me!

¹⁰ “Make sure that I fulfill my commitments in all their perfection, that no one takes care of me, that I be trampled underfoot, forgotten like a small grain of sand. I offer myself to you, my Beloved, so that you may perfectly accomplish your holy will in me, without creatures ever being able to obstruct it."

¹¹ At the end of this beautiful day, it was without sadness that I placed, according to custom, my crown of roses at the feet of the Blessed Virgin; I felt that time would not take away my happiness…

¹² The Nativity of Mary! What a beautiful celebration to become the bride of Jesus! It was the little one-day-old Holy Virgin who presented her little flower to little Jesus. That day, everything was small; except the graces that I received, except my peace and my joy in contemplating in the evening the beautiful stars of the firmament, thinking that soon I would fly to heaven to unite with my divine Spouse, in the heart of joy eternal.

¹³ On the 24th the ceremony of taking the veil took place. This celebration was entirely veiled in tears. Dad was too sick to come and bless his queen; at the last moment, Mgr Hugonin, who was to preside, was prevented from doing so himself; finally, because of several other circumstances, everything was sadness and bitterness… However, peace, always peace, was for me at the bottom of the chalice. That day, Jesus allowed me to not hold back my tears… and my tears were not understood… Indeed, I had endured much greater trials without crying; but then, I was helped by a powerful grace; while, on the 24th, Jesus left me to my own strength, and I showed how small they were.

¹⁴ Eight days after I took the veil, my cousin, Jeanne Guérin, married Dr. La Néele. In the next parlor, hearing her speak of the attentions with which she showered her husband, I felt my heart leap: “It will not be said,” I thought, “that a woman of the world will do more for her husband, a mere mortal, than I for my beloved Jesus.” And, filled with a new ardor, I strove more than ever to please in all my actions the heavenly Spouse, the King of kings who had been willing to elevate me to his divine alliance.

¹⁵ Having seen the wedding invitation letter, I amused myself by composing the following invitation which I read to the novices, to point out to them what had struck me so much—how much the glory of the unions of the earth is little, compared to the titles of a wife of Jesus:

¹⁶ THE ALMIGHTY GOD, Creator of heaven and earth, sovereign Dominator of the world, and the MOST GLORIOUS VIRGIN MARY, Queen of the heavenly court, wish to inform you of the spiritual marriage of their august Son, JESUS, King of kings and Lord of lords, with little THÉRÈSE Martin, now Lady and Princess of the kingdoms brought as a dowry by her divine Spouse: the Childhood of Jesus and his Passion, from which come his titles of nobility: OF THE CHILD JESUS AND THE HOLY FACE.

¹⁷ Having been unable to invite you to the Wedding Feast which was celebrated on the Mount of Carmel on September 8, 1890,—the celestial court being the only one admitted there—you are nevertheless requested to go to the Wedding Return which will take place Tomorrow, the day of Eternity, on which day Jesus, Son of God, will come on the clouds of heaven, in the splendor of his majesty, to judge the living and the dead.

¹⁸ As the time is still uncertain, you are invited to be ready and watchful.

¹⁹ And now, my Mother, what shall I tell you? It is in your hands that I gave myself to Jesus, you have known me since my childhood, do I need to write my secrets to you? Ah! Please forgive me if I greatly abridge the history of my religious life.

²⁰ The year following my profession, I received great graces during the general retreat. Ordinarily the retreats preached are very painful to me; but this time it was different. I had prepared myself for it with a fervent novena, it seemed to me that I was going to suffer so much! The Reverend Father, it was said, was more inclined to convert sinners than to advance religious souls. Well, then I am a great sinner, because the good Lord used this religious saint to console me.

²¹ I then had interior pains of all kinds that I felt incapable of expressing; and now my soul expanded perfectly, I was understood in a marvelous way and even divined. The Father launched me under full sail on the waves of trust and love which attracted me so strongly, but on which I dared not move forward. He told me that my faults did not cause pain to the good Lord: “At this moment,” he added, “I hold his place with you; well, I assure you from him that he is very happy with your soul.”

²² Oh! How happy I was when I listened to these consoling words! I had never heard that mistakes could not to hurt the good Lord. This assurance filled me with joy; she made me patiently endure the exile of life. It was there, moreover, the echo of my intimate thoughts. Yes, I have long believed that the Lord is more tender than a mother, and I know more than one mother’s heart inside and out! I know that a mother is always ready to forgive the little involuntary indelicacies of her child. How many times have I not had the sweet experience of it? No reproach would have touched me as much as a single maternal caress; I am of such a nature that fear makes me shrink; with love, not only do I move forward, but I fly!

²³ Two months after this blessed retreat, our venerated Foundress, Mother Geneviève of Sainte-Thérèse, left our little Carmel to enter the Carmel of Heaven.

²⁴ But, before telling you about my impressions at the time of her death, I want, Mother, to tell you my happiness at having lived several years with a saint who was not inimitable but sanctified by hidden and ordinary virtues. More than once I received great consolation from her.

²⁵ One Sunday, when I entered the infirmary to pay her a little visit, I found two elderly sisters near her; I was discreetly withdrawing when she called me and said with an inspired air: “Wait, my little girl, I only have one word to say to you: you always ask me for a spiritual bouquet, well, today I give you this: “Serve God with peace and joy; remember, my child, that our God is the God of peace."

²⁶ After simply thanking her, I left, moved to tears and convinced that the good Lord had revealed to her the state of my soul. That day, I was extremely distressed, almost sad, in a night such that I no longer knew if I was loved by God. But the joy and consolation which replaced this darkness, you can guess, my dear Mother…

²⁷ The following Sunday, I wanted to know what revelation Mother Geneviève had had; she assured me that she had not received any. Then my admiration was even greater, seeing to what eminent degree Jesus lived in her soul and made her act and speak. Ah! This holiness seems to me the truest, the holiest; it is her that I desire, because there is no illusion there.

²⁸ The day this venerated Mother left exile for her homeland; I received a very special grace. It was the first time I witnessed a death; This show was truly delightful! But during the two hours that I spent at the foot of the dying saint’s bed, a kind of insensitivity had taken possession of me; I felt sad about it, when at the very moment of our Mother’s birth in heaven, my interior disposition changed completely. In the blink of an eye, I felt filled with indescribable joy and fervor, as if the blessed soul of our holy Mother had given me, at that moment, a part of the happiness she already enjoyed.; because I am very convinced that she went straight to heaven.

²⁹ During her life, I said to her one day: “O my Mother, you will not go to purgatory.”— “I hope so!” she replied gently. Certainly, the good Lord could not deceive a hope so filled with humility; all the favors we have received are proof of this.

³⁰ Each sister hastened to claim some relic of our venerated Mother; and you know, my Mother, the one I keep preciously. During his agony, I noticed a tear sparkling on his eyelid like a beautiful diamond. This tear, the last of all those she shed on earth, did not fall; I saw it shine again when the mortal remains of our Mother were exposed to the choir. So, taking a small fine cloth, I dared to approach in the evening, without being seen by anyone, and I now have the happiness of possessing the last tear of a saint.

³¹ I don’t attach any importance to my dreams, in fact I rarely have symbolic ones, and I even wonder how it is that, thinking about the good Lord all day long, I don’t pay more attention to them. during my sleep. Usually I dream of woods, flowers, streams and the sea. Almost always I see pretty little children, I catch butterflies and birds like I have never seen before. If my dreams have a poetic appearance, you see, Mother, that they are far from being mystical.

³² One night, after the death of Mother Geneviève, I made a more consoling one. This holy Mother gave each of us something that had belonged to her. When my turn came, I thought I wouldn’t receive anything, because his hands were empty. Looking at me then with tenderness, she said to me three times: “To you, I leave my heart."

³³ A month after this death so precious before God, which is to say in the last days of the year 1891, the influenza epidemic raged in the community; I was only slightly injured and remained standing with two other sisters. It is impossible to imagine the heartbreaking state of our Carmel in these days of mourning. The sickest were cared for by those who could barely survive; death reigned everywhere; and when one of our sisters had breathed her last, it was necessary, alas! Abandon it immediately.

³⁴ My 19th birthday was saddened by the death of our venerated Mother Sub-Prioress; I assisted him with the nurse during his agony. This death was soon followed by two others. I found myself alone in the sacristy at the time and I wonder how I was able to cope with everything.

³⁵ One morning, when I woke up, I had the presentiment that Sister Madeleine was no more. The dormitory was in complete darkness; no one left the cells. However, I decided to enter that of Sister Madeleine, whom I saw, in fact, dressed and lying on her pallet in the stillness of death. I didn’t have the slightest fear; and, running to the sacristy, I quickly brought a candle, and placed a crown of roses on her head. In the midst of this abandonment, I felt the hand of the good Lord, his Heart watching over us! It was effortless that our dear sisters moved on to a better life; an expression of heavenly joy spread over their faces, they seemed to be resting in a sweet sleep.

³⁶ During these long weeks of trials, I was able to have the ineffable consolation of receiving Holy Communion every day. Ah! How sweet it was! Jesus spoiled me for a long time, longer than his faithful wives. After the flu, he wanted to come to me for a few more months, without the community sharing my happiness. I had not asked for this exception, but I was very happy to unite myself every day with my Beloved.

³⁷ I was also happy to be able to touch the sacred vessels, to prepare the little swaddling clothes intended to receive Jesus. I felt that I had to be very fervent, and I often remembered these words addressed to a holy deacon: “Be holy, you who touch the vessels of the Lord."

³⁸ What will I tell you, Mother, about my thanksgiving at that time and always? There is no moment when I am less consoled! And is this not very natural, since I do not wish to receive a visit from Our Lord for my satisfaction, but only for his own pleasure?

³⁹ I imagine my soul as free land, and I ask the Blessed Virgin to remove the rubble, which are the imperfections; then I beg her to pitch herself a vast tent worthy of heaven, and to adorn it with her own finery. Then I invite all the Angels and Saints to come and sing songs of love. It seems to me then that Jesus is happy to see himself so magnificently received; and I share his joy. All this does not prevent distractions and sleep from bothering me; so, it is not rare for me to resolve to continue my thanksgiving the whole day, since I did so poorly in the choir.

⁴⁰ You see, my venerated Mother, that I am far from walking the path of fear; I always know how to find a way to be happy and take advantage of my miseries. Our Lord himself encourages me on this path. Once, contrary to my habit, I felt troubled as I went to the Holy Table. For several days the number of hosts was not sufficient, I only received a portion; and, that morning, I made this very unfounded reflection: “If I only receive half of a host today, I will believe that Jesus comes reluctantly into my heart!” I am approaching… O happiness! The priest, stopping, gave me two very separate hosts! Wasn’t that a sweet response?

⁴¹ O my Mother, how much reason I have to be grateful to God! I am going to tell you one more naive confidence: The Lord showed me the same mercy as he showed King Solomon. All my desires were satisfied; not only my desires for perfection, but also those whose vanity I understood without having experienced it. Having always looked at Mother Agnes of Jesus as my ideal, I wanted to resemble her in everything. Seeing her painting charming miniatures and composing beautiful poetry, I thought I would be happy to know paint too, to be able to express my thoughts in verse and to do good to those around me. However, I would not have wanted to ask for these natural gifts, and my desires remained hidden deep in my heart.

⁴² Jesus, also hidden in this poor little heart, took pleasure in showing her once again the nothingness of what passes. To the great astonishment of the community, I succeeded in several painting projects, I composed poetry, and it was given to me to do good to a few souls. And just as Solomon, turning to the works of his hands, where he had taken such useless labor, saw that all is vanity and affliction of spirit under the sun, I recognized, by experience, that the only happiness on earth consists in hiding, in remaining in total ignorance of created things. I understood that, without love, all works are nothing, even the most brilliant. Instead of hurting me, hurting my soul, the gifts that the Lord has lavished on me carry me towards him, I see that he is the only immutable, the only one capable of fulfilling my immense desires.

⁴³ But, since I am on the chapter of my desires, there are another kind that the divine Master was pleased to fulfill again: childish desires, similar to that of the snow of my habit. You know, Mother, how much I love flowers. By making myself a prisoner at fifteen, I renounced forever to the joy of running through the countryside dotted with the treasures of spring. Well, I have never had more flowers than since I entered Carmel!

⁴⁴ It is customary in the world for engaged couples to offer pretty bouquets to their brides; Jesus did not forget it… I received cornflowers, poppies, large daisies, all the flowers that delight me the most for his altar. One little flower of my friends, the cornflower, was the only one missing; I really wanted to see her again, and recently she came to smile at me and show me that, in the smallest things as in the great, the good God gives a hundredfold from this life to the souls who for his love have left everything.

⁴⁵ Only one desire, the most intimate of all and the most unrealizable for many reasons, still remained with me. This desire was Céline’s entry into the Carmel of Lisieux. However, I had made the entire sacrifice, entrusting the future of my dear sister to God alone. I accepted that she would go to the ends of the earth, if necessary, but I wanted to see her as the wife of Jesus as I did. Ah! How I suffered knowing she was exposed in the world to dangers that had been unknown to me! I can say that my brotherly affection was more like a mother’s love, I was filled with devotion and solicitude for his soul. One day, she had to go with my aunt and my cousins to a social gathering. I don’t know why I felt more pain than ever, and I shed a torrent of tears, begging Our Lord to stop her from dancing… Which happened precisely! He did not allow his little fiancée to dance that evening—although usually she was not embarrassed to do so gracefully. —His date found himself incapable of doing so, he could do nothing but walk. very religiously with mademoiselle, to the great astonishment of all those present. After which, this poor gentleman slipped away completely ashamed without daring to reappear for a single moment of the evening. This adventure, unique in its kind, made me grow in confidence and showed me clearly that the sign of Jesus was also placed on the forehead of my beloved sister.

⁴⁶ On July 29, 1894, the Lord called to himself my good father, so tried and so holy! During the two years preceding his death, the paralysis having become general, my uncle kept him close, filling his painful old age with all kinds of consideration. But because of his infirm and helpless state, we only saw him once in the visiting room during the entire course of his illness. Ah! What an interview! At the moment of parting, as we were saying goodbye to him, he raised his eyes and, pointing to the sky, he remained like that for a long time, having only this single word to translate his thoughts, pronounced in a voice full of tears: “To heaven!!!"

⁴⁷ This beautiful sky having become his share, the bonds which held his consoling angel in the world were broken. But the angels do not stay on earth: when they have accomplished their mission they immediately return to God, that is why they have wings! Céline therefore tried to fly to Carmel. Alas! The difficulties seemed insurmountable. One day, his affairs becoming more and more complicated, I said to Our Lord after Holy Communion: “You know, my Jesus, how much I wanted my father’s ordeal to serve as purgatory for him. Oh! That I would like to know if my wishes are granted. I am not asking you to speak to me, I am only asking you for a sign: You know Sister *** ’s opposition to Céline’s entry; well, if from now on she puts no more obstacles in the way, that will be your answer, you will tell me that my father went straight to heaven.”

⁴⁸ O infinite mercy! Ineffable condescension! The good God, who holds in his hand the hearts of creatures and inclines them as he wishes, changed the dispositions of this sister. The first person I met immediately after Thanksgiving was herself who, calling me, with tears in her eyes, spoke to me of Céline’s entry, showing me nothing more than a keen desire for her. see among us! And soon Monseigneur, resolving the last difficulties, allowed you, my Mother, without the slightest hesitation, to open our doors to the little exiled dove.

⁴⁹ Now I no longer have any desire, except to love Jesus madly! Yes, it’s LOVE alone that attracts me. I no longer desire suffering or death, and yet I cherish them both! For a long time, I called them as messengers of joy… I possessed suffering and I thought I touched the shore of heaven! I believed, from my earliest youth, that the little flower would be picked in spring; today, it is abandonment alone that guides me, I have no other compass. I no longer know how to ask for anything with fervor, except the perfect accomplishment of God’s will for my soul. I can say these words from the song of our Father Saint John of the Cross:

⁵⁰ In the inner cellar
of my Beloved, I drank… and when I went out,
In all this plain
I no longer knew anything,
And I lost the herd that I followed before.

⁵¹ My soul has employed itself
With all its resources at its service;
I no longer tend a flock,
I no longer have any other office,
Because now all my exercise is to LOVE.

⁵² Or even:
Since I have experienced it,
Love is so powerful in works
That it knows how to take advantage of everything,
From the good and the bad that it finds in me,
And transform my soul into itself.

⁵³ O my Mother, how sweet is the path of love! No doubt we can fall, we can commit infidelities; but love, knowing how to take advantage of everything, quickly consumed everything that could displease Jesus, leaving nothing at the bottom of the heart except a humble and profound peace.

⁵⁴ Ah! What insights have I not drawn from the works of Saint John of the Cross! At the age of seventeen and eighteen I had no other food. But later, the spiritual authors all left me in aridity; and I am still in this disposition. If I open a book, even the most beautiful, the most touching, my heart immediately sinks and I read without being able to understand; or, if I understand, my mind stops without being able to meditate.

⁵⁵ In this helplessness, Holy Scripture and Imitation come to my aid. In them I find a hidden manna, solid and pure. But above all it is the Gospel that keeps me entertained during my prayers. There I draw everything that is necessary for my poor little soul. I always discover new lights, hidden and mysterious meanings. I understand and know from experience that the kingdom of God is within us. Jesus does not need books or teachers to instruct souls. He, the Doctor of doctors, teaches without noise of words. I never heard him speak, but I know he is in me. At every moment, he guides and inspires me. I see, just when I need it, lights previously unknown. It is not most often during times of prayer that they shine in my eyes, but in the midst of the busyness of the day.

⁵⁶ Sometimes, however, a word like this—which I said this evening, at the end of a prayer spent in drought—comes to console me: “Here is the Master whom I give you, he will teach you everything that you must do. I want you to read in the Book of life where the science of love is contained.” The science of love! Ah! This word rings softly in the ear of my soul. I only want this science! For her, having given all my riches, like the wife of the Canticles, I consider myself to have given nothing.

⁵⁷ O my Mother, after so many graces, can I not sing with the Psalmist, that the Lord is good, that his mercy is eternal! It seems to me that if all creatures received the same favors, God would not be feared by anyone, but loved to excess. Out of love, and not through trembling, no soul would ever commit the slightest voluntary fault.

⁵⁸ But finally, I understand that not all souls can be alike; there must be different families, in order to specially honor each of the divine perfections. He gave to me his INFINITE MERCY. It is through this inexpressible mirror that I contemplate his other attributes. Then all appear to me radiant with LOVE: justice itself, perhaps more than the others, seems to me clothed in love. What sweet joy to think that the Lord is just-that is to say that he takes into account our weaknesses, that he knows perfectly the fragility of our nature! What then would I fear? The good and infinitely just God, who graciously forgives the faults of the prodigal son with such mercy, must He not also show justice towards me, who am always with Him?

⁵⁹ In 1895, I was granted the grace to understand more deeply than ever how much Jesus longs to be loved. One day, while contemplating the souls who offer themselves as victims to God’s justice, taking upon themselves the punishments meant for sinners in order to divert them, I recognized the greatness and generosity of this offering. However, I was far from feeling inclined to do it myself.

⁶⁰ “O my divine Master!” I cried deeply in my heart, “Is there nothing but your justice to be found in receiving burnt offerings? Does your merciful love not also require such offerings? Everywhere it is unrecognized, rejected… the hearts which you long to lavish your love on turn to creatures, seeking fleeting happiness instead of surrendering themselves into your arms and embracing the sweet furnace of your infinite love. O my God, will your neglected love remain confined to your Heart? It seems to me that if you found souls offering themselves as VICTIMS OF HOLOCAUST TO YOUR LOVE, you would quickly consume them, eager not to contain the flames of infinite tenderness that burn within you. If your justice, which is of the earth, needs to be appeased, how much more does your merciful love long to set souls ablaze, since ‘your mercy reaches to the heavens!’ O Jesus, may I be this joyous offering; consume your humble host with the fire of divine love!”

⁶¹ My Mother, you know the flames, or rather the oceans of graces which came to flood my soul. Immediately after my donation on June 9, 1895. Ah! Since that day, love penetrates me and surrounds me. At every moment, this merciful love renews me, purifies me and leaves no trace of sin in my heart. No, I cannot fear purgatory. I know that I do not even deserve to enter with the holy souls into this place of expiation, But I also know that the fire of love is more sanctifying than that of purgatory. I know that Jesus does not desire unnecessary suffering for us, and that he would not inspire in me the desires that I feel if he did not want to fill them.

Chapter 9 #

¹ Beloved Mother, I thought I had finished, and you are asking me for more details about my religious life. I don’t want to reason, but I can’t help but laugh as I take up my pen again to tell you things that you know as well as Me; finally, I obey. I do not want to look for what use this manuscript can have; I admit it to you, Mother, if you burned it before my eyes before even having read it, I would not feel any pain.

² In the community, it is generally believed anyway that you have spoiled me since I entered Carmel. But man, only sees the appearance, it is God who reads the depths of hearts. O my Mother, I thank you once again for not having spared me. Jesus knew well that his little flower needed the life-giving water of humiliation. It was too weak to take root without this means, and it is to you that it owes this inestimable benefit.

³ For several months, the divine Master has completely changed the way he grows his little flower: no doubt finding it sufficiently watered, he now lets it grow under the very warm rays of a bright sun. All he wants for her is her smile, which he still gives her through you, my revered Mother. This gentle sun, far from wilting the little flower, makes it grow wonderfully. At the bottom of her chalice, she keeps the precious drops of dew that she once received; and these drops will always remind her that she is small and weak. All creatures could lean towards her, admire her, overwhelm her with their praises; it would never add a shadow of vain satisfaction to the true joy that she savors in her heart, seeing herself in the eyes of God as a poor little nothing, nothing more.

⁴ By saying that all the compliments would leave me indifferent, I do not want to speak, Mother, of the love and trust that you show me; on the contrary, I am very touched by it, but I feel that I have nothing to fear, I can enjoy now at my ease, bringing back to the Lord what good he has been willing to put in me. If he pleases to make me appear better than I am, that doesn’t concern me, he is free to act as he wants.

⁵ My God, how different are the paths by which you lead souls! In the lives of the Saints, we see a large number of them who left nothing of themselves after their death: not the slightest memory, not the slightest writing. There are others, on the contrary, like our Mother Saint Teresa, who have enriched the Church with their sublime doctrine, not fearing to reveal the secrets of the King, so that he may be better known, more loved by souls. Which of these two ways pleases Our Lord best? I think it pleases him equally.

⁶ All God’s beloved ones followed the movement of the Holy Spirit who made the prophet write: “Tell the righteous that all is well." Yes, all is well when we seek only the divine will. This is why I, poor little flower, obey Jesus by trying to please the one who represents him to me here below.

⁷ You know, my Mother, my desire has always been to become a saint; but unfortunately! I have always noticed, when I have compared myself to the saints, that there exists between them and me the same difference that we see in nature between a mountain whose summit is lost in the clouds, and the dark grain of sand trodden down. under the feet of passers-by.

⁸ Instead of getting discouraged, I said to myself: “The good Lord cannot inspire unrealizable desires. I can therefore, despite my smallness, aspire to holiness. Growing up is impossible! I have to tolerate myself as I am, with my imperfections without number. But I want to find the way to go to heaven by a very straight, very short little way—a very new little way. We are in a century of inventions: now there is no longer any need to climb the steps of a staircase. Among the rich, an elevator replaces it advantageously. I would also like to find an elevator to raise me to Jesus, for I am too small to climb the rough staircase of perfection.”

⁹ So I asked the Holy Books for directions to the elevator, the object of my desire. I read these words from the very mouth of Eternal Wisdom: “If anyone is VERY SMALL, let him come to me." So I approached God, knowing well that I had discovered what I was looking for. Wanting to know again what he would do to the little one, I continued my research, and this is what I found: “As a mother caresses her child, so I will comfort you, I will carry you on my breast, and I will swing you on my knees."

¹⁰ Ah! Never have more tender, more melodious words come to rejoice my soul. The elevator that must lift me to heaven is your arms, O Jesus! For this I do not need to grow. On the contrary, I must remain small, that I become more and more so. O my God, you have exceeded my expectation, and I want to sing of your mercies! You have taught me from my youth, and until now I have proclaimed your wonders. I will continue to publish them in the most advanced age.

¹¹ What will this old age be like for me? It feels like it could come now just as easily as later—after all, two thousand years are no different to the Lord than twenty years… than a single day!

¹² But do not believe, my Mother, that your child wishes to leave you, considering it a greater grace to die at dawn rather than at dusk. What she values, what she only desires, is to please Jesus. Now that he seems to be approaching her to draw her to the abode of glory, her heart rejoices. She knows it, she understands it: the good Lord doesn’t need anyone—least of all her—to do good on earth.

¹³ In the meantime, my venerated Mother, I know your will: you want me to accomplish a very sweet, very easy mission alongside you. This mission I will complete from heaven. You said to me, like Jesus to Saint Peter: “Feed my lambs.” I was surprised; I felt too small. I begged you to feed for your little lambs yourself and to keep me among them by your grace. Responding somewhat to my just desire, you chose to call me their first companion rather than their mistress. Yet, you entrusted me with the task of guiding them to rich and shaded pastures, showing them the best and most nourishing herbs, and warning them about the brilliant yet poisonous flowers which they must avoid—except to tread on them and crush them underfoot.

¹⁴ My Mother, how is it that my youth, my inexperience did not frighten you? How are you not afraid that I will let your lambs go astray? In doing so, perhaps you remembered that the Lord often delights to give wisdom to the little ones.

¹⁵ On earth, there are very few souls who do not measure the divine power by their short thoughts! The world wants there to be exceptions everywhere; alone, the Good Lord has no right to do so. For a long time, I have known, this way of measuring experience by years has been practiced among humans. For in his youth the holy King David sang to the Lord: “I am young and despised." In the same psalm, however, he does not hesitate to say: “I have become more prudent than the old men, because I have sought your will. Your word is the lamp that lights my steps. I am ready to perform your ordinances, and I am not troubled by anything."

¹⁶ You did not even consider it imprudent, my Mother, to tell me one day that the divine Master illuminated my soul and gave me the experience of the years. I am too small now to have vanity, I am still too small to know how to turn beautiful phrases in order to suggest that I have a lot of humility. I prefer to simply admit that the Almighty has done great things in me. The greatest is to have shown me my smallness, my powerlessness for all good.

¹⁷ My soul has experienced many kinds of trials; I have suffered a lot here below! In my childhood, I suffered with sadness. Today, it is in peace and joy that I enjoy all the bitter fruits. In order not to smile while reading these pages, I admit, you must know me inside and out, my dear Mother, for is there a soul apparently less tried than mine? Ah! If the martyrdom that I have suffered for a year were visible to everyone, what astonishment! Since you want it, I will try to write it. But there are no terms to explain these things, and I will always be below reality.

¹⁸ During Lent last year, I found myself stronger than ever, and this strength, despite the fact that I observed in all its rigor, was maintained perfectly until Easter. When on Good Friday, first thing in the morning, Jesus gave me the hope of soon joining him in his beautiful heaven. Oh! How sweet this memory is to me!

¹⁹ On Thursday evening, not having obtained permission to stay at the Tomb all night, I returned to our cell at midnight. Barely had my head rested on the pillow when I felt a flood bubbling up to my lips. I thought I was going to die, and my heart broke with joy. However, as I had just put out our little lamp, I mortified my curiosity until morning and fell asleep peacefully.

²⁰ At five o’clock, the wake-up call being given, I immediately thought that I had something happy to learn. Approaching the window, I soon noticed it when I found our handkerchief filled with blood. O my Mother, what hope! I was deeply convinced that my Beloved, on this anniversary of his death, was making me hear a first call, like a gentle and distant whisper announcing his happy arrival.

²¹ It was with great fervor that I attended Prime, then the Chapter. I couldn’t wait to be at my Mother’s knees to confide my happiness to her. I did not feel the slightest fatigue, the slightest suffering, so I easily obtained permission to finish my Lent as I had begun it. And, that day of Good Friday, I shared all the austerities of Carmel, without any relief. Ah! Never had these austerities seemed so delicious to me… the hope of going to heaven transported me with joy.

²² The evening of this happy day I returned full of joy to our cell, and I was still going to fall asleep gently, when my good Jesus gave me, as the previous night, the same sign of my imminent entry into eternal life. I then enjoyed a faith so lively, so clear, that the thought of heaven gave me all my happiness. I could not believe that there were impious people who did not have faith, and convinced myself that, certainly, they spoke against their thoughts by denying the existence of another world.

²³ In the luminous days of the Easter season, Jesus made me understand that there really are souls without faith and without hope who, through the abuse of graces, lose these precious treasures, the source of the only pure and true joys. He allowed my soul to be invaded by the thickest darkness and the thought of heaven, so sweet to me since my early childhood, to become a subject of struggle and torment. The duration of this ordeal was not limited to a few days, a few weeks—I have suffered it for months, and I am still waiting for the hour of my deliverance. I wish I could express what I feel, but it’s impossible! You must have traveled under this dark tunnel to understand its darkness. However, I will try to explain it with a comparison.

²⁴ I suppose I was born in a country surrounded by thick fogs. I have never contemplated the smiling aspect of nature, never have I seen a single ray of sunlight. From my childhood, it is true, I have heard about these wonders, I know that the country where I live is not my homeland, that it is another towards which I must constantly aspire. This is not a story invented by an inhabitant of the fogs, it is an indisputable truth; for the King of the country of the bright sun came thirty-three years into the land of darkness… Alas, and the darkness did not understand that he was the light of the world!

²⁵ But, Lord, your child has understood your divine light! She asks you for forgiveness for her unbelieving brothers, she agrees to eat as long as you want the bread of sorrow. She sits down for your love at this table filled with bitterness, where poor sinners take their food and from which she does not want to rise before the sign of your hand. May she not say in her own name, but in the name of her guilty brothers: “O God, be merciful to us sinners!” Send us back justified! May all those who are not enlightened by the torch of faith see it shine at last! O my God, if the table soiled by them must be purified by a soul who loves you, I am willing to eat there alone the bread of tears, until it pleases you to introduce me into your luminous kingdom. The only grace I ask of you is to never offend you!

²⁶ I told you, my Mother, that the certainty of one day going far from my dark country had been given to me from my childhood; not only did I believe from what I heard, but I also felt in my heart, through intimate and deep aspirations, that another land, a more beautiful region, would one day serve as my stable home, just as that the genius of Christopher Columbus made him foresee a new world. When, suddenly, the mists that surround me penetrate my soul and envelop me in such a way that it is no longer possible for me to even find within myself the sweet image of my homeland… Everything has disappeared!…

²⁷ When I want to rest my heart, tired of the darkness that surrounds it, with the strengthening memory of a future and eternal life, my torment redoubles. It seems to me that the darkness, borrowing the voice of the impious, says to me, mocking me: “You dream of light, an embalmed homeland, you dream of the eternal possession of the Creator of these wonders, you think you will one day emerge from the mists in which you languish; advance!… advance!… rejoice in death which will give you, not what you hope for, but an even deeper night, the night of nothingness!"

²⁸ Beloved Mother, this image of my ordeal is as imperfect as the sketch compared to the model; However, I don’t want to write any more, I would be afraid of blaspheming… I’m even afraid of having said too much. Ah! That God forgives me! He knows well that, while not having the enjoyment of faith, I strive to do its works. I have taken more leaps of faith in the last year than in my entire life.

²⁹ At each new opportunity for combat, when my enemy wants to provoke me, I behave bravely: knowing that it is cowardice to fight in a duel, I turn my back on my adversary without ever looking him in the face. Then I run to my Jesus, I tell him I am ready to shed all my blood to confess that there is a heaven, I tell him I am happy not to be able to contemplate on earth, with the eyes of the soul, this beautiful heaven which awaits me, so that he may deign to open it for eternity to poor unbelievers.

³⁰ Also, despite this ordeal which takes away all feeling of enjoyment, I can still cry out: “Lord, you fill me with joy with everything you do." For is there any greater joy than to suffer for your love? The more intense the suffering, the less it appears to the eyes of creatures, the more it makes you smile, oh my God! And if, through impossibility, you were to ignore it yourself, I would still be happy to suffer, in the hope that, through my tears, I could prevent or repair perhaps a single fault committed against the faith.

³¹ You will no doubt believe, my venerated Mother, that I am exaggerating the night of my soul a little. If you judge by the poems I composed this year, I must seem to you to be flooded with consolations, a child for whom the veil of faith was almost torn! And yet… it is no longer a veil; it is a wall which rises to the heavens and covers the starry firmament!

³² When I sing of the happiness of heaven, the eternal possession of God, I feel no joy, because I simply sing what I want to believe. Sometimes, I admit, a tiny ray of sunlight lights up my dark night, then the ordeal ceases for a moment; but then, the memory of this ray, instead of consoling me, makes my darkness even thicker.

³³ Ah! I have never felt so clearly that the Lord is gentle and merciful. He only sent me this heavy cross when I could carry it. In the past I believe it would have thrown me into discouragement. Now it only produces one thing: to remove any feeling of natural satisfaction in my aspiration towards the celestial homeland.

³⁴ My Mother, it seems to me that now nothing is stopping me from flying away because I no longer have any great desires, except that of loving until I die of love… I am free, I have no fear, even the one that I feared the most—I mean the fear of remaining ill for a long time and consequently of being a burden to the community. If it pleases the good Lord, I willingly agree to see my life of suffering, of body and soul, continue for years. Oh no, I do not fear a long life! I do not refuse combat: “The Lord is the rock on which I am lifted up, who trains my hands for battle and my fingers for war. He is my shield, I hope in him." I never asked God to die young. It is true, I have not stopped believing that it would be so, but without doing anything to obtain it.

³⁵ Often the Lord is content with the desire to work for his glory, and my desires, you know, my Mother, were very great! You also know that Jesus presented me with more than one bitter chalice compared to my darling sisters! Ah! Holy King David was right when he sang: “How good it is, how sweet it is for brothers to dwell together in perfect union!" But it is within the sacrifices that this union must be accomplished on earth. No, it was not to live with my sisters that I came to this blessed Carmel. I had a good feeling, on the contrary, that it must be a subject of great suffering when one does not want to give anything to nature.

³⁶ How can one say that it is more perfect to move away from one’s own? Have brothers ever been criticized for fighting on the same battlefield, for flying together to collect the palm of martyrdom? No doubt it was rightly judged that they encourage each other, but also, that the martyrdom of each becomes that of all.

³⁷ So it is in the religious life that theologians call martyrdom. By giving itself to God, the heart does not lose its natural tenderness: this tenderness, on the contrary, grows by becoming purer and more divine. It is with this tenderness that I love you, my Mother, and that I love my sisters. Yes, I am happy to fight as a family for the glory of the King of Heaven. But I would also be ready to fly on another battlefield, if the divine General expressed the desire to me. A command would not be necessary, but a simple look, a sign would be enough!

³⁸ Since my entry into Carmel, I have always thought that, if Jesus did not quickly take me to heaven, the fate of Noah’s little dove would be mine. That one day the Lord, opening the window of the ark, would tell me to fly far to unfaithful shores, carrying with me the olive branch. This thought made me soar higher than everything created.

³⁹ Understanding that, even in Carmel, there could be separations, I wanted in advance to live in heaven. I accepted, not only to exile myself among an unknown people, but what was much more bitter to me, I accepted exile for my sisters. Two of them, in fact, were requested by the Carmel of Saigon, which our monastery had founded. For some time, there was serious talk of sending them there. Ah! I would not have wanted to say a word to hold them back, although my heart was broken at the thought of the trials that awaited them…

⁴⁰ Now everything has passed, the superiors have put insurmountable obstacles to their departure; I only dipped my lips into this chalice, just long enough to taste its bitterness.

⁴¹ Let me tell you, my Mother, why, if the Blessed Virgin heals me, I wish to respond to the call of our Mothers of Hanoi. It seems that to live in foreign Carmels, you need a very special vocation; many souls believe they are called to it without actually being so. You told me, Mother, that I had this vocation, and that my health alone stood in the way of its fulfillment.

⁴² Ah! If I had to one day leave my religious cradle, it would not be without injury. I do not have a callous heart; and it is precisely because he is capable of suffering a lot that I desire to give Jesus all the kinds of suffering that he could bear. Here I am loved by you, my Mother, of all my sisters, and this affection is very sweet to me: this is why I dream of a monastery where I would be unknown, where I would have to suffer exile of the heart. No, it is not with the intention of doing service to the Carmel of Hanoi that I would leave everything that is dear to me, I know too well my incapacity; my only goal would be to accomplish the will of the good God and to sacrifice myself for him according to his desires. I have a good feeling that I will have no disappointment; for when we expect pure suffering, we are rather surprised at the slightest joy; and then, suffering itself becomes the greatest joy, when we seek it like a precious treasure.

⁴³ But I am sick now, and I will not recover. However, I remain in peace. For a long time, I no longer belong to myself, I am completely delivered to Jesus… He is therefore free to do with me whatever he pleases. He gave me the attraction of a complete exile. He asked me if I consented to drink this chalice: immediately I wanted to seize it, but he, withdrawing his hand, showed me that acceptance alone was enough.

⁴⁴ My God, what worries we free ourselves from by taking the vow of obedience! How happy the simple nuns are! Their only compass being the will of their superiors, they are always assured of being on the right path, not having to fear being wrong, even if it seems certain to them that their superiors are wrong. But, when we stop consulting the infallible compass, the soul immediately loses itself in arid paths where the water of grace soon fails it.

⁴⁵ My Mother, you are the compass that Jesus gave me to lead me surely to the eternal shore. How sweet it is for me to fix my gaze on you and then to accomplish the will of the Lord! By allowing me to suffer temptations against faith, the divine Master has greatly increased in my heart the spirit of faith which makes me see it alive in your soul and communicating to me through you his blessed orders. I know well, my Mother, that you make the burden of obedience sweet and light for me; but it seems to me, according to my intimate feelings, that I would not change my behavior and that my filial tenderness would not suffer any diminution, if it pleased you to treat me severely, because I would still see the will of my God being manifesting in another way for the greater good of my soul.

⁴⁶ Among the countless graces I received this year, I consider one of the greatest to be the grace of fully understanding the depth of the commandment of charity. I had never studied these words of Our Lord in depth: “The second commandment is similar to the first: You shall love your neighbor as yourself." I applied myself above all to loving God, and it was in loving him that I discovered the secret of these other words.: “It is not those who say: Lord! Lord! Who shall enter into the kingdom of both: but he that does the will of my Father."

⁴⁷ Jesus made this will be known to me when at the Last Supper he gave his new commandment, when he told his Apostles to love each other as he himself loved them… And I began to inquire how Jesus had loved his disciples. I saw that it was not for their natural qualities. I saw that they were ignorant and full of earthly thoughts. However, he calls them his friends, his brothers, he desires to see them near him in the kingdom of his Father and, to open this kingdom to them, he wants to die on the cross, saying that there is no greater love than giving your life for those you love.

⁴⁸ By meditating on these divine words, I saw how imperfect my love for my sisters was. I understood that I did not love them the way Jesus loves them. Ah! I now guess that true charity consists of supporting all the faults of one’s neighbor, not being surprised by their weaknesses, and being edified by their smallest virtues. But above all, I learned that charity must not remain locked in the depths of the heart, because no one lights a torch to put it under a bushel, but we put it on the candlestick, so that it enlightens all those who are in the house. It seems to me, Mother, that this torch represents the charity which must enlighten, rejoice, not only those who are dearest to me, but all those who are in the house.

⁴⁹ When the Lord, under the old law, commanded his people to love their neighbor as themselves, he had not yet come down to earth. Knowing well how deeply people love themselves, he could not ask for more. But when Jesus gave his Apostles a new commandment—his commandment—he no longer asked them merely to love their neighbor as themselves but to love their neighbor as he loves them, with a love that will endure to the end of time.

⁵⁰ O my Jesus! I know you command nothing impossible. You know my weakness and my imperfection better than I, you know well that I will never be able to love my sisters as you love them, if you yourself, oh my divine Savior, do not still love them in me. It is because you want to grant me this grace that you have made a new commandment. Oh! That I like! Since it gives me the assurance that your will is to love in me all those you command me to love.

⁵¹ Yes, I feel it, when I am charitable it is Jesus alone who acts in me. The more I am united to him, the more I love all my sisters. If I want to increase this love in my heart, and the devil tries to put before my eyes the faults of this or that sister, I hasten to seek out her virtues, her good desires. I tell myself that, if I saw her fall once, she may well have won a large number of victories which she hides out of humility, and that even what seems to me a fault can very well be, because of the intention, an act of virtue. I have all the less difficulty in persuading myself of this since I experienced it for myself.

⁵² One day during recess, the doorkeeper came looking for a sister to assist with a specific task. I had a childlike desire to take up this work, and the choice fell upon me. As I prepared to leave, I began folding my things—but slowly enough that my neighbor could finish folding hers before me, knowing it would bring her joy to take my place. The sister requesting help, noticing my lack of haste, laughed and said, “Ah! I thought you weren’t going to add this pearl to your crown—you were moving too slowly!” The whole community assumed I had acted out of natural inclination.

⁵³ I cannot express how much this small event helped me and taught me to be more understanding. It continues to keep me from feeling pride when I am judged favorably because I remind myself: if my small acts of virtue can be mistaken for flaws, it is just as possible to mistake imperfections for virtues. Then I repeat with Saint Paul: “I care very little if I am judged by any human tribunal. I do not even judge myself. The one who judges me is the Lord.”

⁵⁴ Yes, it is the Lord—it is Jesus—who judges me! And to ensure his favorable judgment, or rather to avoid being judged at all, as he said, “Judge not, and you will not be judged,” I always want to have charitable thoughts.

⁵⁵ I return to the Holy Gospel where the Lord explains to me very clearly what his new commandment consists of.

⁵⁶ I read in Saint Matthew: “You have heard that it was said: You shall love your friend, and you shall hate your enemy. As for me, I say to you: Love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you."

⁵⁷ Certainly, in Carmel, we do not encounter enemies. However, there are natural sympathies: you may feel drawn to one sister, while another might prompt you to take a long detour just to avoid meeting her. Yet Jesus reminds me that I must love that sister, that I must pray for her, even if her actions make me think she does not love me: “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For sinners also love those who love them." And it’s not enough to love, you have to prove it. We are naturally happy to please a friend. But this is not charity because sinners do it too.

⁵⁸ Here is what Jesus still teaches me: “Give to everyone who asks. And if one takes what is yours, do not ask for it again." Giving to anyone who asks is less fulfilling than offering oneself freely, driven by the movement of one’s heart. When someone asks with kindness, it is easy to give without hesitation. But if, unfortunately, the request is made with less tactful words, the soul often rebels—unless it is rooted in perfect charity. In such moments, the soul may find countless reasons to refuse the request. Only after pointing out the requester’s lack of delicacy might it graciously grant what was asked—or grudgingly perform a small service that takes twenty times less than the time spent asserting imaginary obstacles and rights.

⁵⁹ If it is difficult to give to everyone who asks, it is even more difficult to not ask for it again. O my Mother, I say that it is difficult, I should rather say that it seems difficult, for the yoke of the Lord is sweet and light. When we accept it, we immediately feel its sweetness.

⁶⁰ I said: Jesus does not want me to claim what is mine. This should seem quite natural to me, since nothing really belongs to me. I must therefore rejoice when I happen to feel the poverty of which I have made a solemn vow. Formerly I thought I didn’t care about anything. But, since the words of Jesus have illuminated me, I see myself as imperfect. For example, if, starting to work on painting, I find the brushes in disorder, if a ruler or a penknife has disappeared, patience is very close to abandoning me and I must take hold of it with both hands so as not to bitterly demand the objects I lack.

⁶¹ I can undoubtedly ask for essential things, but by doing so with humility, I do not fail in following the commandment of Jesus. On the contrary, I act like the poor, who hold out their hands to receive what they need. If they are turned away, they are not surprised—for no one owes them anything. Ah! What peace floods the soul when it rises above the feelings of nature! No, there is no joy comparable to that of the truly poor in spirit! If he detachedly asks for something necessary and is not only refused but faces the loss of what they already have, they follow the advice of Our Lord: “Abandon even your cloak to the one who wants to plead to have your dress."

⁶² To abandon one’s coat is, it seems to me, to renounce one’s last rights, to consider oneself as the servant, the slave of others. When you have taken off your cloak, it is easier to walk, to run, so Jesus adds: “And whoever forces you to take a thousand steps, take two thousand more with him." No, it is not enough for me to give to anyone who asks me. I must meet their desires, show myself very grateful, very honored to be of service. If something is taken for my use, appear happy to be rid of it.

⁶³ However, I cannot always practice the words of the Gospel to the letter. There are occasions when I find myself forced to refuse something to my sisters. But when charity has taken deep roots in the soul, it shows itself on the outside. There is such a gracious way of refusing what one cannot give, that the refusal gives as much pleasure as the gift. It is true that we are less embarrassed to involve those who always show themselves willing to oblige. However, under the pretext that I would be forced to refuse, I must not move away from the sisters who easily ask for services, since the divine Master has said: “Do not avoid the one who wants to borrow from you."

⁶⁴ I should not be obliging merely to appear so, or in the hope that the sister I am helping will return the favor another time, for Our Lord also said: “If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive something, what credit will you have for it? Even sinners lend to sinners in order to receive the same. But for you, do good, lend without expecting anything, and your reward will be great."

⁶⁵ Oh, yes, the reward is great—even here on earth! On this path, only the first step is costly. Lending without expecting anything seems hard. We would rather give, because a given thing no longer belongs to us. When someone comes to tell you with an air of complete confidence: “Sister, I need your help for a few hours; but don’t worry, I have permission from our Mother, and I will give you back the time you give me.” Really, when we know very well that the time lent will never be returned, we would rather say: “I’ll give it to you!” This would satisfy self-esteem, because it is a more generous to give than to lend, and we make the sister feel that we are not counting on her for anything in return.

⁶⁶ Ah! How the divine teachings contradict the feelings of nature! Without the help of grace, it would be impossible not only to put them into practice, but also to understand them.

⁶⁷ My dear Mother, I feel that, more than ever, I have explained myself very poorly. I don’t know what interest you will find in reading all these confused thoughts. Finally, I don’t write to create a literary work; If I bore you with this sort of talk about charity, at least you will see that your child has shown good will.

⁶⁸ Alas! I am far, I admit, from practicing what I understand; and yet the only desire I have gives me peace. If I happen to fall into any contrary fault, I get up immediately. For several months, I no longer even have to fight, I can say with our Father Saint John of the Cross: “My home is entirely pacified”, and I attribute this intimate peace to a certain fight in which I was victorious. From this triumph, the celestial militia comes to my aid, not being able to bear to see me injured after having fought valiantly on the occasion that I am about to describe.

⁶⁹ A holy nun from the community once had the talent to displease me in everything. The demon got involved, because it was certainly he who made me see so many unpleasant sides in her. So, not wanting to give in to the natural dislike that I felt, I told myself that charity should not only consist of feelings, but should be seen in works. So, I tried to do for this sister what I would have done for the person I love most. Every time I met her, I prayed to God for her, offering her all his virtues and merits. I felt that this greatly rejoiced my Jesus, for there is no artist who does not like to receive praise for his works, and the divine Artist of souls is happy when one does not stop outside, but, penetrating the inner sanctuary that he has chosen for his home, we admire its beauty.

⁷⁰ I was not satisfied to pray a lot for the one who gave me so much struggle: I tried to do as much for her as I could. And when I was tempted to answer her in an unpleasant way, I hurried to give her a kind smile, trying to divert the conversation, because it is said in the Imitation that it is better to leave everyone in their own feelings than to start disputing.

⁷¹ Often also, when the demon tempted me violently, and I could slip away without her noticing my intimate struggle, I fled like a deserting soldier…. And in the meantime, she said to me one day with a radiant air: “My sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus, would you like to confide to me what attracts you so much to me? I never meet you without you giving me the most gracious smile.” Ah! What attracted me was Jesus hidden in the depths of her soul, Jesus who makes sweet what is most bitter!

⁷² I was speaking to you just now, Mother, about my last means of avoiding defeat in the battles of life: I mean desertion. I used this dishonorable method during my novitiate, and it always worked perfectly for me. I will give you a striking example which, I believe, will make you smile.

⁷³ You had been ill for several days with bronchitis which gave us a lot of worry. One morning, I came very slowly to your infirmary to give the keys to the communion rail, because I was a sacristan. Basically, I was delighted to have this opportunity to see you, but I was careful not to let it show. Now, one of your daughters, driven by holy zeal, thought I was going to wake you up and discreetly wanted to take the keys from me. I replied, as politely as possible, that I wanted her not to make any noise, and I added that it was my right to return the keys. I understand today that it would have been more perfect to simply give in, but I did not understand it then and wanted to follow in her footsteps, despite herself.

⁷⁴ Soon the dreaded misfortune arrived, the noise we made caused you to open your eyes, and everything fell on me! The sister whom I had resisted hastened to deliver a whole speech, the substance of which was this: “It is my sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus who made the noise.” I burned with the desire to defend myself, but fortunately a bright idea came to me. I told myself that, certainly, if I started to justify myself, I would lose the peace of my soul. Moreover, my virtue being too weak to allow myself to be accused without replying, I had to choose flight as my last plank of salvation. Immediately thought, immediately done. I left… but my heart was beating so hard that it was impossible for me to go far, and I sat down on the stairs to enjoy the fruits of my victory in peace. Without doubt, this was singular bravery. However, it is better, I believe, not to expose oneself to combat when defeat is certain.

⁷⁵ Alas! When I think of the time of my novitiate, how I see my imperfection! I laugh now at certain things. Ah! How good is the Lord to have raised my soul, to have given it wings! All the hunters’ nets can no longer frighten me, for “a net is spread in vain before the eyes of those that have wings”.

⁷⁶ In the future, the time I am living now may seem filled with even more miseries, but I am no longer surprised by anything. I am not troubled, even when confronted with my own weakness. On the contrary, I take glory in it, and I fully expect to uncover new imperfections in myself each day. I must admit, these revelations about my nothingness bring me more benefit than even the brightest insights into faith.

⁷⁷ Remembering that love covers a multitude of sins, I draw on this fruitful mine opened by the Lord in his sacred Gospel. I search the depths of his adorable words, and I cry with David: “I have run in the way of your commandments, since you opened my heart." And love alone can expand my heart… O Jesus! Since this sweet flame consumes it, I run with delight in the path of your new commandment, and I want to run there until the blessed day when, uniting myself with the virginal procession, I will follow you into the infinite spaces, singing your Canticle new which must be that of LOVE.

Chapter 10 #

¹ My beloved Mother, the good God has given me this grace to penetrate the mysterious depths of charity. If I could express what I understand, you would hear a melody from heaven. But unfortunately! I only have childish stutters, and if the words of Jesus do not serve as support for me, I would be tempted to ask your permission to remain silent.

² When the divine Master tells me to give to anyone who asks me and to let what belongs to me be taken without asking for it again, I think that he is not only talking about the goods of earth, but also the goods of heaven. Besides, both are not mine: I renounced the first by the vow of poverty, and the second are lent to me by God who can take them away from me without me being permitted to complain.

³ But deep and personal thoughts, the flames of intelligence and of the heart form a wealth to which we attach ourselves as to our own property, which no one has the right to touch. For example: if I communicate to one of my sisters some light from my prayer and she then reveals it as coming from herself, it seems that she is taking my property. Or if one says a witty and appropriate word to one’s neighbor during recess, and they, without making the source known, repeat it, it seems like theft from the owner who does not complain, but would really like to. At the first opportunity, she will make it clear that her thoughts have been taken over.

⁴ My Mother, I could not explain these sad feelings of nature to you so well if I had not experienced them myself. I would like to lull myself in the sweet illusion that they only visited me, if you had not ordered me to listen to the temptations of the novices. I learned a lot by fulfilling the mission you entrusted to me. Above all, I saw myself forced to practice what I taught.

⁵ Yes, now I can say it: I have received the grace of not being more attached to the goods of the mind and the heart than to those of the earth. If I happen to think and say something that pleases my sisters, I find it only natural that they will seize it as something good for them. This thought belongs to the Holy Spirit and not to me, since Saint Paul assures that we cannot, without this Spirit of love, give God the name of Father. He is therefore quite free to use me to give a good thought to a soul and I cannot believe that this thought is my property.

⁶ Besides, if I do not despise the beautiful thoughts which unite with God, I understood, a long time ago, that we must be careful not to rely too much on them. The most sublime inspirations are nothing without the works. It is true that other souls can derive much benefit from it, if they show the Lord a humble gratitude for allowing them to share the feast of one of his privileged ones. But if he delights in his wealth and prays the prayer of the Pharisee, he becomes like a person dying of hunger at a well-served table. While all his guests draw from it abundant food, he casts a look of envy on the possessor of so many treasures.

⁷ Ah! As it is only the good God alone who knows the depths of hearts! What short thoughts creatures have! When they see a soul, whose lights surpass their own, they conclude that the divine Master loves them less. And since when has he no longer had the right to use one of his creatures to provide his children with the food they need? In Pharaoh’s time, the Lord still had this right. For, in the Scripture, he said to this monarch: “I have raised you up on purpose to make MY POWER shine forth in you, so that my name may be proclaimed throughout all the earth.” Centuries have followed centuries since the Most High spoke these words, and his conduct has not changed. He has always chosen instruments for himself among the peoples to do his work in souls.

⁸ If a canvas painted by an artist could think and speak, it would certainly not complain about being constantly touched and retouched by the brush. Nor would it envy the brush, understanding that the beauty it gains comes not from the brush itself, but from the skill of the artist who wields it. As for the brush, it could take no pride in the masterpiece created through its use, knowing full well that artists are never hindered by limitations. In fact, they often take pleasure in working with the weakest and most flawed instruments, transforming their imperfections into triumphs.

⁹ My venerated Mother, I am a little brush that Jesus chose to paint his image in the souls you have entrusted to me. An artist has several brushes—he needs at least two. The first, which is the most useful, gives the general shades and completely covers the canvas in a very short time. The other, smaller, is used for details. My Mother, it is you who represent to me the precious brush that the hand of Jesus holds with love when he wants to do a great work in the souls of your children. I am the little one that he then deigns to use for the smallest details.

¹⁰ The first time that the divine Master picked up his little brush was around December 8, 1892. I will always remember this time as a time of grace.

¹¹ On entering Carmel, I found in the novitiate a companion eight years older than me. Despite the difference in years, a true intimacy was established between us. To encourage this affection which seemed likely to produce fruits of virtue, we were allowed small spiritual conversations. My dear companion charmed me with her innocence, her expansive and open character. But, on the other hand, I was surprised to see how different her affection for you, my Mother, was from mine. Moreover, many things in her conduct seemed to me regrettable. However, the good Lord already made me understand that there are souls that his mercy never tires of waiting for, to whom he only gives his light by degrees. So, I was careful not to want to get ahead of his time.

¹² One day, I reflected on this permission which we had been given to talk together, as it is said in our holy constitutions: “to inflame ourselves more in the love of our Spouse". I thought with sadness that our conversations did not reach the desired goal. I saw clearly that I should no longer be afraid to speak, or else stop conversations that resembled those of friends in society. I begged Our Lord to put sweet and convincing words on my lips, or rather to speak for me himself. He heard my prayer. For those who look towards him will be enlightened, and light has dawned in the darkness to those who are upright in heart. The first word I apply to myself, and the second to my companion who truly had an upright heart.

¹³ At the scheduled time for our conversation, my little sister immediately sensed that something had changed in me. She sat beside me, blushing. Then, pressing her to my heart, I tenderly shared my thoughts about her. I explained what true love really means, showing her that by loving Mother Prioress with a natural affection, she was loving herself. I opened up about the sacrifices I had to make in this regard at the beginning of my religious life. Before long, her tears mingled with mine. Very humbly, she acknowledged her mistakes, admitted the truth of what I was saying, and promised to start a new life. She asked me to always point out her faults as a favor. From that moment, our bond became purely spiritual. In us the oracle of the Holy Spirit was fulfilled: “A brother who is helped by his brother is like a fortified city.”

¹⁴ O my Mother, you know well that I had no intention of turning my companion away from you. I only wanted to tell her that true love is nourished by sacrifices, and the more the soul refuses natural satisfactions, the more his tenderness becomes strong and selfless.

¹⁵ I remember as a postulant occasionally having such violent temptations to satisfy myself and find a few drops of joy, that I was obliged to quickly pass in front of your cell, clinging to the banister of the stairs to avoid retracing my steps. A number of excuses came to mind, a thousand pretexts to agree with my nature and satisfy it. I am so happy that I deprived myself from the start of my religious life! I am already enjoying the reward promised to those who fight courageously. It no longer feels necessary to deny myself the comforts of the heart, for my heart is firmly rooted in God… By loving him alone, it grew little by little, enabling it to offer those dear to him a tenderness far deeper than what selfish and fruitless affection could ever provide.

¹⁶ I spoke to you, my beloved Mother, of the first work that you and Jesus deigned to accomplish with the little brush. But it was only the prelude to the master painting that you then entrusted to him.

¹⁷ As soon as I entered the sanctuary of souls, I immediately realised that the task was beyond my strength. And, quickly placing myself in the arms of the good Lord, I imitated small children who, when frightened, hide their blond heads on their father’s shoulder. I said: “Lord, you see, I am too small to feed your children. If you want to give through me what each one needs, fill my little hand. And, without leaving your arms, without even turning my head, I will distribute your treasures to the soul who comes asking me for food. When she enjoys the taste, I will know that it is not really me, but you that bestowed it. However, if she complains that what I present is bitter, my peace will be undisturbed. I will try to persuade her that this food comes from you, and will be careful not to give her anything else".

¹⁸ By understanding that it was impossible for me to do anything by myself, the task became simple. I focused only on uniting myself more and more with God, knowing that the rest would then be given to me as well. Indeed, my hope has never been disappointed: whenever it was needed, my hand has been full to nourish the souls of my sisters. I confess to you, my Mother, if I had acted differently, if I had relied on my own strength, I would have, without delay, given up.

¹⁹ From a distance, it seems so simple to guide souls, to help them love God more, and to shape them according to His will and plan. But up close, it becomes clear that doing good is as impossible without divine assistance as bringing the sun back into the sky during the night. We realize we must completely set aside our own preferences and ideas, leading souls not by our path or even theirs, but by the unique path Jesus has laid out for them. And yet, this isn’t the hardest part. What challenges me most is noticing their faults, even the smallest imperfections, and waging an unrelenting battle against them.

²⁰ I was about to say, “unfortunately for me,” but no—that would be cowardly. So instead, I’ll say, “fortunately for my sisters.” Since I took my place in the arms of Jesus, I feel like a watchman stationed on the highest turret of a fortified castle, keeping an eye on the enemy. Nothing escapes my notice; I’m often amazed by how clearly I can see things. I find myself sympathizing with the prophet Jonah for trying to flee from God rather than announce Nineveh’s destruction. I’d much rather endure a thousand criticisms than give even one. But I realize it’s important that this task is challenging for me because, when done out of mere human nature, it’s impossible for the person at fault to truly understand their mistakes. Instead, they simply think: “The sister guiding me is dissatisfied, and her discontent unfairly falls on me, even though my intentions are good.”

²¹ Mother, it is the same in everything: I must encounter self-denial and sacrifice in all that I do. I have come to realize that a letter will bear no fruit unless I write it with a sense of reluctance and with the sole intention of obedience. When I speak with a novice, I make it a point to practice self-denial. I refrain from asking questions that might satisfy my curiosity. If I notice her beginning something interesting but then abandoning it for something more tedious, I am careful not to call her back to the first task. It seems to me that true good cannot be accomplished when one is seeking personal satisfaction.

²² I know, Mother, that your little lambs think I am harsh! … If they were to read these words, they might say it doesn’t seem to cost me anything to chase after them, point out their soiled fleece, or gather the tufts of wool they’ve left caught in the brambles along the way. The little lambs can say what they like—deep down, they know I love them with a very great love. No, there’s no risk of me becoming like the mercenary who abandons the flock and flees at the first sign of a wolf. I am ready to give my life for them, and my love is so pure that I don’t even wish them to recognize it. By God’s grace, I have never sought to win their hearts for myself. I understand that my mission is to guide them to God and to you, Mother, who are for them here on earth the visible representation of God whom they must love and honor.

²³ I mentioned that teaching others has taught me a great deal. First, I’ve noticed that all souls face more or less the same struggles. Yet, at the same time, there is a profound uniqueness to each one. This uniqueness demands that we approach each soul differently. With some, I feel the need to make myself small, unafraid to humble myself by admitting my own struggles and failures. This openness encourages them to confess their own faults and take comfort in knowing that I understand their struggles from personal experience. With others, however, firmness is essential. To be effective, I must stand by what I’ve said without wavering, as lowering myself in such cases would be perceived as weakness.

²⁴ The Lord has given me the grace to face conflict without fear. No matter the cost, I must fulfill my duty. I’ve often heard people say, “If you want something from me, don’t take it by force—use gentleness, or you’ll get nothing.” But I also know that no one is a good judge in their own case. A child undergoing a painful procedure from a surgeon will cry out, insisting the cure is worse than the illness. Yet, once healed and able to run and play, they’re grateful for the treatment. It’s the same with souls: they eventually come to realize that a little bitterness is better than sweetness, and they are not afraid to admit it.

²⁵ Sometimes it’s a truly magical sight to see the change that takes place from one day to the next.

²⁶ People come to me and say: “You were right yesterday to be severe. At first it revolted me, but then I remembered everything and saw that you were very fair. When I left your cell, I thought it was over. I said to myself: I am going to go find our Mother and tell her that I will no longer go with my sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus. But I felt that it was the demon who whispered this to me. Then it seemed to me that you were praying for me, so I remained still and the light began to shine. Now enlighten me completely, that’s why I come.”

²⁷ And I, very happy to follow the inclination of my heart, I quickly serve fewer bitter dishes… Yes, but… I realize that we must not go too far… a word could destroy the beautiful building built in tears! If I have the misfortune of saying the slightest thing that seems to diminish the truths of the day before, I see my little sister trying to cling to the branches… So, I resort to prayer. I take an inward look at the Virgin Mary, and Jesus always triumphs! Ah! It is prayer and sacrifice that make up all my strength—they are my invincible weapons. They can, much more than words, touch hearts. I know this from experience.

²⁸ During Lent, two years ago, a novice came to find me beaming: “If you only knew,” she said to me, “what I dreamed last night! I was with my sister who is so worldly, and I wanted to detach her from all the vanities of world. For this I explained to her these words from your song, Living with love:

²⁹ Loving you, Jesus, what a fruitful loss!
All my perfumes are law of no return.

³⁰ I felt that my speech penetrated to the depths of her soul, and I was delighted with joy. This morning, I think that perhaps the good Lord wants me to give him this soul. What if I wrote to her at Easter to tell her my dream and tell her that Jesus wants her as his wife! What do you think?" I simply replied that she could ask permission.

³¹ As Lent was not coming to an end, you were surprised, Mother, by such a premature request. And, visibly inspired by the good Lord, you replied that the Carmelites must save souls by prayer rather than by letters. Upon learning of this decision, I said to my dear little sister: “We must get to work, let us pray a lot. What joy if, at the end of Lent, they were granted!” O infinite mercy of the Lord! At the end of Lent, one more soul was dedicated to Jesus! It was a true miracle of grace: a miracle obtained by the fervor of a humble novice!

³² How great is the power of prayer! It looks like a queen who always has free access to the king and can obtain everything she asks. To be answered, you don’t have to to read a beautiful formula from a book composed for the occasion. If that were so, how much I would be pitied!

³³ Apart from the divine office which I am happy (although very unworthy) to recite every day, I do not have the courage to force myself to look in books for beautiful prayers—there are so many, they make my head hurt! Although, they are more beautiful than the others! So, not being able to recite them all, and not knowing which ones to choose, I imitiate children who cannot read. I simply tell the good Lord what I want to say to him, and he always understands me.

³⁴ For me, prayer is an outpouring of the heart—a simple glance toward the heavens, a cry of love and acknowledgment in moments of struggle as well as in moments of joy. Ultimately, it’s something elevated, supernatural, that lifts the soul and connects it to God. Sometimes, when my mind feels so dry that I can’t form a single meaningful thought, I recite the Our Father or Hail Mary very slowly. These prayers alone bring me delight. They divinely nourish my soul and feel more than enough.

³⁵ But where was I with my subject? Here I am again lost in a maze of reflections… Forgive me, Mother, for being so imprecise! This story, I agree, is a very tangled thread. Alas! I couldn’t do better. I write as thoughts come to me, I fish at random in the little stream of my heart, and I then offer you my little fish as they let themselves be caught.

³⁶ So I was among the novices who often say to me: “But you have an answer to everything, I thought this time I was embarrassing you… where are you going to get what you are teaching us?” There are even some who are candid enough to believe that I read their souls, because I happened to warn them by revealing to them—without revelation—what they were thinking.

³⁷ The eldest of the novitiates had been hiding a deep sorrow that was causing her significant pain. She had spent a sleepless night, filled with anguish, determined not to shed a single tear for fear her red eyes would give her away. As she approached me with the most gracious expression, she spoke to me in her usual way—if possible, even more warmly. I simply said to her, “You’re sad, I’m certain of it.” Her reaction was one of indescribable astonishment. The depth of her amazement struck me, leaving me with some supernatural impression. In that moment, I felt the presence of God very near to us. Without realizing it—since I have no gift for reading souls—I had spoken words that seemed divinely inspired, and I was able to fully comfort this soul.

³⁸ Now, my beloved Mother, I am going to entrust to you my best spiritual benefit with the novices. You understand that everything is allowed to them, they must be able to say whatever they think, good or bad, without restriction. It is all the easier for them with me because they do not owe me the respect that one pays to a Mistress.

³⁹ I cannot say that Jesus makes me walk externally by the way of humiliations. No, he is content to humiliate me to the depths of my soul. Before creatures, everything succeeds for me. I follow the perilous path to honors—if one can express it that way in religion—and I understand in this respect the conduct of God and of superiors. Indeed, if I came across in the eyes of the community as an incapable nun, without intelligence or judgment, it would be impossible for you, Mother, to get help from me. This is why the divine Master has cast a veil over all my interior and exterior defects.

⁴⁰ This veil attracts some compliments from the novices, compliments without flattery—I know that they mean it. But this does not make me prideful because I am constantly present with the memory of my miseries. Sometimes, however, I have a great desire to not hear praise. My soul gets tired of food that is too sweet, and Jesus then makes it serve a good little salad, well vinegared, well spiced; nothing is missing, except the oil, which gives it more flavor.

⁴¹ This salad is presented to me by novices when I least expect it. The good Lord lifts the veil that hides my imperfections from them; and my dear little sisters, seeing the truth, no longer find me entirely to their liking. With a simplicity that delights me, they tell me the struggles I give them, what displeases them about me. Finally, they do not bother each other any more than if it were a question of another, knowing that they give me great pleasure by acting in this way.

⁴² Ah! Truly it is more than a pleasure, it is a delicious feast which fills my soul with joy. How can something that is so displeasing to nature give such happiness? If I had not experienced it, I could not believe it.

⁴³ One day, when I greatly desired to be humiliated, it happened that a young postulant undertook to satisfy me so well that the thought of Semei cursing David came to my mind, and I repeated inwardly with the holy king: “Yes, it was indeed the Lord who ordered him to tell me all these things."

⁴⁴ So the good Lord takes care of me. He cannot always offer me the strengthening bread of external humiliation. But, from time to time, he allows me to feed on the crumbs that fall from the children’s table. Ah! How great is his mercy!

⁴⁵ Beloved Mother, since I try to sing with you from this world this infinite mercy, I must still make you part of a real profit, derived like so many others from my little mission. In the past, when I saw a sister acting in a way that displeased me and seemed against the rules, I said to myself: Ah! If I could warn him, show him his wrongs, that would do me good! But by practicing the profession, I changed my feelings. When I happen to see something wrong, I breathe a sigh of relief: —What happiness! She’s not a novice, I don’t have to take it again! Then I quickly try to excuse the culprit and attribute to her the good intentions that she undoubtedly has.

⁴⁶ Venerated Mother, the care you gave me during my illness has taught me a lot about charity. No remedy seems too expensive to you; and, if it doesn’t succeed, without getting tired of it you try something else. When I go to recess, how careful you are to protect me from the slightest draft! My Mother, I feel that I must be as compassionate for the spiritual infirmities of my sisters as you are for my physical infirmity.

⁴⁷ I have noticed that the holiest nuns are the most loved. We seek their conversation and we do helpful things for them without them even asking. Finally, these souls, capable of supporting lack of consideration and delicacy, find themselves surrounded by general affection. We can apply to them these words of our Father Saint John of the Cross: “All goods were given to me when I no longer sought them out of self-love.”

⁴⁸ Imperfect soulds, on the other hand, are often left behind. We treat them with a measure of religious courtesy, but we tend to keep our distance, perhaps out of fear of saying something unkind. By “imperfect souls,” I’m not just referring to spiritual shortcomings—after all, even the most holy will only achieve perfection in heaven. I’m also speaking of those who lack good judgment, education, or have overly sensitive personalities—all things that make life unpleasant. I understand these imperfections are often ingrained and unlikely to change. Yet, I also know that if I were chronically unwell, my mother would never cease caring for me or trying to ease my suffering, no matter how long it lasted.

⁴⁹ Here is the conclusion I have reached: I must seek out the company of sisters who do not naturally appeal to me and take on the role of the Good Samaritan towards them. Often, a kind word or a warm smile is all it takes to bring joy to a sorrowful or wounded soul. However, my desire to show kindness isn’t driven solely by the hope of offering comfort. I know that if I aimed only for this, I would soon grow discouraged—after all, even a well-meant word can sometimes be misunderstood. To ensure my efforts are not in vain, I strive instead to act purely for the joy of Our Lord, in obedience to the guidance of the Gospel.:

⁵⁰ “When you make a feast, do not invite your relatives and friends, lest they also invite you, and thus you have received your reward: but invite the poor, the lame, the paralyzed, and you will be happy for what they cannot repay you, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you for it."

⁵¹ What kind of feast could I offer my sisters, if not a spiritual one, made up of kindness and joyful charity? Truly, I know no other. I wish to follow the example of Saint Paul, who rejoiced with those who were rejoicing. It’s true that he also wept with the sorrowful, and sometimes tears must find their place in the feast I long to share. Even so, I will always strive to transform those tears into smiles, for the Lord cherishes those who give with joy.

⁵² I recall an act of charity that the good Lord inspired in me during my time as a novice. For this seemingly small gesture, the heavenly Father, who sees what is done in secret, has already rewarded me without waiting for the life to come.

⁵³ It happened before my sister Saint-Pierre became completely infirm. Each evening, at ten minutes to six, someone needed to leave prayer to escort her to the refectory. I found it difficult to volunteer because I knew how challenging—indeed, almost impossible—it was to meet her needs fully. Yet, I could not let such a beautiful opportunity slip by, remembering the divine words: “Whatever you have done for the least of these, you have done for me.”

⁵⁴ So, I humbly offered to assist her, though it took some convincing for her to accept my help. Once she agreed, I set to work with so much good will that I succeeded perfectly. Every evening, when I saw her turn over her hourglass, I knew it was time: Let’s go!

⁵⁵ Summoning my courage, I would rise, and the ritual began. First, I had to move and carry the bench exactly as she wanted, ensuring not to rush. Then came the walk. It was a matter of following this good sister, supported her by the belt, doing my best to be gentle. But if I made even the slightest misstep, she would cry out, “Ah! My God! You’re going too fast—I’m going to break!” If I then tried to lead more gently, she would exclaim, “Follow me! I can’t feel your hand! You’re letting me go, and I’m going to fall! … I told you, you’re too young to lead me.”

⁵⁶ We eventually reached the refectory without mishap. Once there, more challenges awaited. I had to seat my poor cripple carefully to avoid causing her discomfort, roll up her sleeves in just the right way, and then I could finally leave.

⁵⁷ But soon, I noticed how much she struggled to cut her bread. From then on, I made it a point to assist her with this final task before I left. As she never asked for this, she was very touched by my attention. Over time, this unassuming act that I won her trust entirely—especially, as I later learned, because after completing these little services, I always gave her my warmest smile.

⁵⁸ My Mother, this act of virtue took place many years ago, yet the Lord allows me to recall it as if it were a perfume, a breeze from heaven. One winter evening, I performed as usual the humble office I’ve described. It was cold and dark… Suddenly, I heard in the distance the harmonious sounds of several music instruments. I pictured a lavishly decorated salon, glowing with brilliant light, sparkling with gilding, and elegantly dressed young women exchanged a thousand worldly pleasantries. Then my eyes returned to the poor patient I was supporting. Instead of melodies, I heard her occasional sad moans. Instead of gilding, I saw the bricks of our austere cloister, dimly illuminated by a faint light.

⁵⁹ This contrast gently impressed my soul. The Lord illuminated it with rays of truth that completely eclipsed the dark brilliance of earthly pleasures. Even if I could enjoy a thousand years of these worldly celebrations, I would not trade them for the ten minutes spent on this single act of charity.

⁶⁰ Ah! If even here, amidst suffering and the trials of life, we can experience such profound joy simply by reflecting on how God has called us out of the world, what will it be like there—when we stand in eternal glory, resting endlessly in His presence? How incomparably greater will our gratitude be when we fully understand the grace He has shown us in choosing us to dwell in His house, the very threshold of heaven!

⁶¹ It is not always with this transport of joy that I have practiced charity; but, at the beginning of my religious life, Jesus wanted to make me feel how sweet it is to see him in the souls of his spouses: also, when I led my sister Saint-Pierre, it was with so much love, that It would have been impossible for me to do better if I had led Our Lord himself.

⁶² The practice of charity has not always been so sweet to me, I told you just now, my dear Mother. To prove it to you, I will tell you, among many others, some of my struggles.

⁶³ For a long time, during prayer, I was positioned near a sister who never stopped moving—or she kept moving her rosary, I’m not sure what. Perhaps it was only me who heard it because I have an extremely keen ear, but I can’t express how tired of it I was! I would have liked to turn my head to look at the culprit and make her noise stop. However, deep in my heart, I felt that it was better to suffer this patiently for the love of the good Lord first, and also to avoid an occasion of sorrow.

⁶⁴ So I remained calm, but sometimes sweat flooded me, and I was obliged to simply say a prayer of suffering. Finally, I was looking for a way to suffer with peace and joy, at least in the depths of my soul. So, I tried to like this unpleasant little noise. Instead of trying not to hear it (an impossible thing), I focused my attention on listening to it carefully, as if it had been a delightful concert. My prayer—which was not that of tranquility—was spent offering this concert to Jesus.

⁶⁵ Another time, I found myself in the laundry room in front of a sister who, while washing the handkerchiefs, threw dirty water at me all the time. My first movement was to step back and wipe my face, in order to show the person who was spraying me in this way that she would be doing me a favor by remaining quiet. But immediately I thought that I was very foolish to refuse the treasures that were offered to me so generously, and I was careful not to show my boredom. I made all my efforts, on the contrary, to desire to receive a lot of dirty water, so much so that after half an hour, I had really acquired a taste for this new type of sprinkling, and I promised myself to return as much as possible to this fortunate place where so much wealth was freely served.

⁶⁶ My Mother, you see that I am a very small soul who can only offer the good Lord very small things; yet it often happens to me that I let slip these little sacrifices which give so much peace to the heart; but that doesn’t discourage me, I tolerate having a little less peace and I try to be more vigilant another time.

⁶⁷ Ah! May the Lord make me happy! How easy and sweet it is to serve him on earth! Yes, always, I repeat, he gave me what I desired; or rather, he made me desire what he wanted to give me. Thus, shortly before my terrible temptation against the faith, I said to myself: “Truly, I face no great external sorrows, and for internal ones to arise, the good Lord would need to alter the course of my life. Yet, I don’t believe He will. Still, I cannot imagine always living in this state of peace. What means will He use, then?”

⁶⁸ The response was not long in coming, showing me that the One I love is never short of means. Without changing my path, he gave me this great trial which soon mixed a beneficial bitterness with all my sweetness.

Chapter 11 #

¹ It is not only when he wants to send me trials that Jesus makes me sense it and desire it. For a long time, I had a desire that seemed unrealizable to me—I wanted a brother priest. I often thought that, if my little brothers had not flown into heaven, I would have had the happiness to see them go up to the altar. I regretted this happiness! And now the good God, surpassing my dream—since I only wanted a brother priest who, every day, would think of me at the holy altar—has united me by the bonds of the soul to two of his apostles. I want, my beloved Mother, to tell you in detail how the divine Master fulfilled my wishes.

² It was our Mother Saint Teresa who sent me my first brother as a festive bouquet in 1895. It was a laundry day; I was busy with my work, when Mother Agnès of Jesus, then Prioress, took me aside and read me a letter from a young seminarian. He said he had been inspired by Saint Teresa to ask for a sister who would devote herself especially to his salvation and to the salvation of the souls whose he would get busy later. He promised to always remember the one who would become his sister when he could offer the Holy Sacrifice. And I was chosen to become the sister of this future missionary.

³ My Mother, I cannot tell you how happy I am. My desire, fulfilled in an unexpected way, gave rise to a joy in my heart that I would call childish, for I must go back to the days of my childhood to find the memory of these joys so vivid that the soul is too small to contain them. Never, in years, had I tasted this kind of happiness. I felt that on this side my soul was new, as if musical strings that had otherwise been forgotten had been touched within it.

⁴ Understanding the obligations I imposed on myself, I set to work, trying to redouble my fervor. From time to time I wrote a few letters to my new brother. Without doubt, it is through prayer and sacrifice that we can help the missionaries. But sometimes, when it pleases Jesus to unite two souls for his glory, he allows them to communicate their thoughts to each other in order to excite each other to love God more.

⁵ I know that this requires the express will of authority. It seems to me that otherwise this requested correspondence would do more harm than good—if not to the missionary, then at least to the Carmelite woman continually led by her way of life to withdraw into herself. Instead of uniting him to the good Lord, this exchange of letters—even distant—would uselessly occupy his mind. she would perhaps imagine herself doing wonders, and really would do nothing at all except to procure, under the guise of zeal, an unnecessary distraction.

⁶ Beloved Mother, here I go myself, not in a distraction, but in an equally unnecessary discourse… I will never correct myself from these lengths which must be so tiring for you to read! Forgive me and let me start again at the next opportunity.

⁷ Last year, at the end of May, it was your turn to give me my second brother. Upon my reflection, that having already offered my poor merits for a future apostle, I believed that I could not do so again for the intentions of another. You gave me this answer: that obedience would double my merits.

⁸ In the depths of my soul I thought that too. Since the zeal of a Carmelite must embrace the world, I even hope, with the grace of God, to be useful to more than two missionaries. I pray for all, without leaving aside the simple priests, whose ministry is sometimes as difficult as that of the apostles preaching to the infidels. Finally, I want to be a “daughter of the Church” like our Mother Saint Teresa and pray for all the intentions of the Vicar of Jesus Christ. This is the general goal of my life.

⁹ But, as I would have united myself especially with the works of my darling little brothers if they had lived, without neglecting the great interests of the Church which embrace the universe, thus I remain particularly united to the new brothers that Jesus gave me. Everything that belongs to me belongs to each of them. I feel that God is beyond description in His goodness and generosity. His riches are boundless, and He grants abundantly whatever I ask of Him, even though I do not burden Him with lengthy requests.

¹⁰ Since I only have two brothers and my little sisters are novices, if I wanted to detail the needs of each soul, the days would be too short. I would be very afraid of forgetting something important. Simple souls do not need complicated means. And, as I am one of this number, Our Lord himself inspired me with a small, very simple way to fulfill my obligations.

¹¹ One day, after Holy Communion, he made me understand these words from the Canticles: “Draw me, we will run to the smell of your perfumes." O Jesus, it is not necessary to add, “By attracting me, also attract the souls I love.” That single plea—“Draw me”—is enough! For when a soul is captivated by the intoxicating fragrance of Your love, it cannot run alone; all the souls it loves are irresistibly drawn along in its wake. This is the natural consequence of its deep attraction to You!

¹² Just as a torrent carries with it, into the depths of the sea, what it encounters in its path. In the same way, O my Jesus, the soul which immerses itself in the shoreless ocean of your love draws after it all its treasures! Lord, you know, these treasures for me are the souls that you were pleased to unite with mine; these treasures, it’s you who gave them to me entrusted. So I dare to borrow your own words, those of the last evening which still saw you on our earth, traveler and mortal.

¹³ Jesus, my Beloved! I do not know what day my exile will end… more than one evening, perhaps, will see me still singing your mercies here below. But finally, for me too the last evening will come… so I want to be able to tell you:

¹⁴ “I have glorified you on earth, I have accomplished the work you gave me to do, I have made your name known to those you gave me. They were yours, and you gave them to me. Now they know that all that you have given me is from you, for I have communicated to them the words which you entrusted to me. They received them, and they believed that it was you who sent me. I pray for those you have given me, because they are yours. I am no longer in the world, but for them they are still there, while I return to you. Keep them for your Name’s sake".

¹⁵ “I now come to you, and it is so that the joy that comes from you may be perfected in them that I say this, now that I am in the world… I do not beg you to remove them from the world, but to preserve them from evil. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world either”.

¹⁶ “It is not only for them that I pray, but also for those who will believe in you on what they hear them say".

¹⁷ “My God, I wish that where I am, those whom you have given me will also be there with me. May the world know that you loved them as you loved me."

¹⁸ Yes, Lord, this is what I would like to repeat after you before flying into your arms! It may be rashness. But no… Have you not allowed me to be bold with you for a long time? Like the father of the prodigal son speaking to his eldest son, you said to me, “All that is mine is yours.” Your words, O Jesus, are therefore mine, and I can use them to attract the favors of the heavenly Father to the souls that belong to me.

¹⁹ You know, O my God, I have never desired anything other than to love You alone, I aspire to no other glory. Your love warned me from my childhood, it grew with me, and now it is an abyss whose depth I cannot fathom.

²⁰ Love attracts love; mine rushes towards you. It would like to fill the abyss which attracts it. But unfortunately, it’s not even a drop of dew lost in the ocean! To love you as you love me, I must borrow your own love—only then can I find rest. O my Jesus, it seems to me that you cannot fill a soul with more love than you have filled mine. This is why I dare to ask you to love those whom you have given me as you loved me myself.

²¹ One day, in heaven, if I discover that you love them more than me, I will rejoice, recognizing even in this world that these souls deserve it more. But here below, I cannot conceive of a greater immensity of love than that with which you were pleased to reward me, without any merit on my part.

²² My Mother, I am astonished at what I have just written, I did not intend to!

²³ By repeating this passage from the Holy Gospel: “I committed to them the words you entrusted to me”, I was not thinking of my brothers, but of my little sisters in the novitiate, because I do not believe myself capable of instructing missionaries. What I wrote for them was Jesus’ prayer: “I do not beg you to remove them from the world… I also pray for those who will believe in you based on what they hear them say." How, in fact, could I leave in oblivion the souls who will become their conquest through suffering and preaching?

²⁴ But I have not explained all my thoughts on this passage from the Sacred Songs: “Draw me, we will run…”

²⁵ “No one,” Jesus said, “can come after me unless my Father who sent me draws him.” Then he teaches us that it is enough to knock to be opened, to seek to find, and to humbly stretch out your hand to receive. He adds that whatever is asked of his Father in his Name, he grants it. This is undoubtedly why the Holy Spirit, before the birth of Jesus, dictated this prophetic prayer: “Draw me, we will run…”

²⁶ To ask to be drawn is to express a desire for intimate union with the object that captivates the heart. If fire and iron had reason, and the iron said to the fire, “Draw me,” would it not reveal its longing to become one with the fire, to the point of sharing its very substance? This is the essence of my prayer. I ask Jesus to draw me into the flames of His love, to unite me so completely with Him that He lives and acts through me. I sense that the more the fire of love consumes my heart, the more I will cry, “Draw me!”—and the more the souls near me will be drawn irresistibly to the fragrance of the Beloved.

²⁷ Yes, they will run, we will run together, because burning souls cannot stay inactive. Without doubt, like Saint Madeleine, they sit at the feet of Jesus, listening to his sweet and fiery words. Appearing to give nothing, they give much more than Martha who torments herself about many things. It is not, however, Martha’s labors, but her anxiety alone, that Jesus blames; His divine Mother humbly submitted to these same works, since she had to prepare the meals of the Holy Family.

²⁸ All the saints understood this, and more particularly perhaps those who filled the universe with the illumination of evangelical doctrine. Is it not from prayer that Saint Paul, Saint Augustine, Saint Thomas Aquinas, Saint John of the Cross, Saint Teresa and so many other friends of God have drawn this admirable knowledge which delights the greatest geniuses?

²⁹ A scholar said: “Give me a point of support and, with a lever, I will lift the world.” What Archimedes could not obtain, the saints received fully. The Almighty gave them a point of support: Himself, Him alone! For leverage, prayer which burns with a fire of love. This is how they raised the world, this is how the still militant saints raise it and will raise it until the end of time.

³⁰ My dear Mother, it remains for me to tell you what I mean by the smell of the perfumes of the Beloved. Since Jesus has ascended to heaven, I can only follow him in the footsteps he left. Ah! How luminous are these traces! How divinely embalmed they are! I only have to cast my eyes on the holy Gospel and immediately I breathe the perfume of the life of Jesus, and I know which way to run. It is not to the first place, but to the last that I rush. I let the Pharisee go up, and I repeat, filled with confidence, the humble prayer of the tax collector. Ah! Above all, I imitate the behavior of Madeleine. Her astonishing—or rather her loving audacity—charms the Heart of Jesus and seduces mine!

³¹ It is not because I have been preserved from mortal sin that I rise to God through trust and love. Ah! I feel that even if I had on my conscience all the crimes that could be committed, I would lose none of my confidence. I would go, with a broken heart of repentance, to throw myself into the arms of my Savior. I know that he cherishes the prodigal son, I have heard his words to Saint Magdalene, to the adulterous woman, to the Samaritan woman. No, no one could scare me, because I know what to expect about his love and his mercy. I know that all these many offenses would be destroyed in the blink of an eye, like a drop of water thrown into a blazing inferno.

³² It is told in the Life of the Desert Fathers that one of them converted a public sinner whose immoral actions had scandalized an entire nation. Moved by grace, the sinner followed the saint into the desert to undergo a severe penance. On the first night of their journey, even before reaching the place of his retreat, his earthly ties were broken by the fervor of his repentance, which was filled with love. At that very moment, the solitary man saw the sinner’s soul carried by Angels into the bosom of God.

³³ This is a very striking example of what I would like to say, but these things cannot be expressed… Ah! My Mother, if weak and imperfect souls like mine felt what I feel, none would despair of reaching the summit of the mountain of Love, since Jesus does not ask for great actions, but only abandonment and acknowledgement.

³⁴ “I have no need,” he said, “of the goats of your flocks, because all the beasts of the forests belong to me and the thousands of animals that graze on the hills: I know all the birds of the mountains.

³⁵ “If I were hungry, I would not tell you: for the earth and all that is in it is mine. Should I eat the flesh of bulls and drink the blood of goats? OFFER TO GOD SACRIFICES OF PRAISE AND THANKSGIVING.”

³⁶ So this is all that Jesus asks of us! He does not need our works, but only our love. This same God, who declares that he has no need to tell us if he is hungry, was not afraid to beg a little water from the Samaritan woman…. He was thirsty!!! By saying, “Give me a drink”, it was the love of his poor creature that the Creator of the universe demanded. He was thirsty for love!

³⁷ This thirst of Our Divine Lord was ever on the increase. He only meets ungrateful and indifferent people among the disciples of the world. Among his own disciples he finds, alas, very few hearts which surrender themselves without any reserve to the tenderness of his infinite Love!

³⁸ Dear Mother, how happy we are to understand the intimate secrets of our Spouse! Ah! If you wanted to write what you know about it, we would have beautiful pages to read. But I know, you prefer, like the Blessed Virgin, to keep all these things deep in your heart…To me you say that it is honorable to publish the works of the Most High. I think you are right to remain silent. It is truly impossible to repeat the secrets of heaven with earthly words!

³⁹ For me, after having traced all these pages, I find that I have not yet started. There are so many diverse horizons, so many infinitely varied nuances, that the painter’s palette celestial will alone be able, after the night of this life, to provide me with the divine colors capable of painting the wonders that it discovers to the eye of my soul.

⁴⁰ Ah, I now see it! Yes, all my hopes will be fulfilled… yes, the Lord will work wonders for me that will infinitely surpass my immense desires!

⁴¹ However, my revered Mother, since you show me the desire to know in depth, as much as possible, all the feelings of my heart, since you want me to write down the most consoling dream of my life, I will finish the story of my soul by this act of obedience. If you allow me, I will address myself to Jesus. In this way, I will speak more easily. You may find my expressions exaggerated. However, I assure you that there is no exaggeration in my heart: everything is calm and rested.

⁴² O Jesus, who can say with what tenderness, what gentleness, you lead my little soul! …

⁴³ The storm has been brewing loudly within her since the beautiful celebration of your triumph, the radiant feast of Easter; when one of the days of the month of May, you made a pure ray of your grace shine in my dark night…

⁴⁴ Thinking of the mysterious dreams that you sometimes grant to your privileged ones, I told myself that this consolation was not made for me. For me, it was night, always deep night! And under the storm, I fell asleep.

⁴⁵ The next day, May 10, at the first light of dawn, I found myself, while sleeping, in a gallery where I was walking alone with our Mother. Suddenly, without knowing how they had entered, I saw three Carmelites dressed in their mantles and large veils, and I understood that they were coming from heaven. “Ah! How happy I would be”, I thought, “to see the face of one of these Carmelites!” As if my prayer had been heard, the greatest of the saints came towards me and I fell to my knees. O happiness! She lifted her veil, or rather lifted it and covered me with it.

⁴⁶ Without any hesitation, I recognized the Venerable Mother Anne of Jesus, founder of Carmel in France. Her face was beautiful, with an immaterial beauty. No ray escaped from it, and yet, despite the thick veil which enveloped us both, I saw this celestial face illuminated by an ineffably sweet light which it seemed to produce of itself.

⁴⁷ The saint showered me with caresses and, seeing me so tenderly loved, I dared to utter these words: “O my Mother, I beg you, tell me if the good God will leave me on earth for a long time? Will he come for me soon? She smiled tenderly. — “Yes, soon… soon… I promise you."— “My Mother,” I added, “tell me again if the good Lord does not ask me for anything other than my poor little actions and my desires-is he happy with me?”

⁴⁸ At this moment, the face of the Venerable Mother shone with a new radiance, and her expression seemed incomparably more tender to me. — “The good God does not ask anything else from you,” she said to me, “he is happy, very happy!” And taking my head in her hands, she lavished me with such caresses, that it would be impossible for me to return the sweetness. My heart was in joy, but I remembered my sisters and I wanted to ask for some graces for them… Alas! I woke up!

⁴⁹ I cannot express the joy of my soul. Several months have passed since this ineffable dream, and yet the memory it leaves me, its celestial charms, has lost none of its freshness. I still see the look and smile, full of love, of this holy Carmelite. I think I still feel the caresses with which she showered me.

⁵⁰ O Jesus, you commanded the winds and the storm, and there was a great calm.

⁵¹ When I woke up, I believed. I felt that there is a heaven, and this heaven is populated by souls who cherish me and look at me as their child. This impression in my heart is all the sweeter as the Venerable Mother Anne of Jesus had, until then (I almost dare to say), been indifferent to me. I had never invoked her, and her thought only came to my mind when hearing about her, which was quite rare.

⁵² And now I know. I understand how important I was to her. This thought increases my love, not only for her, but for all the blessed inhabitants of the heavenly homeland.

⁵³ O my Beloved! This grace was only the prelude to the even greater graces with which you wanted to shower me. Let me remind you of them today, and forgive me if I am being irrational in wanting to repeat my hopes and my desires which touch on the infinite… Forgive me and heal my soul by giving it what it hopes for!

⁵⁴ To be your bride, O Jesus! To be a Carmelite, to be, through my union with you, the mother of souls, all this should suffice. However, I feel other vocations within me: I feel the vocation of warrior, priest, apostle, doctor, martyr… I would like to accomplish all the most heroic works. I feel the courage of a crusader. I would like to die on a battlefield in defense of the Church.

⁵⁵ The vocation of priest! With what love, O Jesus, I would carry you in my hands when my voice brought you down from heaven! With what love I would give you souls! But unfortunately, while desiring to be a priest, I admire and envy the humility of Saint Francis of Assisi! I feel the vocation to imitate him by refusing the sublime dignity of the priesthood. How can we combine these contrasts?

⁵⁶ I would like to enlighten souls like the prophets, the doctors. I would like to travel the earth, preach your Name and plant your glorious cross on the unfaithful ground. O my Beloved! But a single mission would not be enough for me. I would like at the same time to announce the Gospel in all parts of the world, and even in the most remote islands. I would like to be a missionary, not only for a few years, but I would like to have been one since the creation of the world, and to continue to be one until the consummation of the centuries.

⁵⁷ Ah! Above all, I would like martyrdom. The martyr! This is the dream of my youth. This dream grew with me in my little cell in Carmel. But this is another madness because I do not desire just one type of torture-to satisfy myself I would need them all…

⁵⁸ Like you, my adored Spouse, I would like to be scourged, crucified… I would like to die stripped like Saint Bartholomew. Like Saint John, I would like to be immersed in boiling oil. I desire, like Saint Ignatius of Antioch, to be crushed by the teeth of beasts, in order to become bread worthy of God. With Saint Agnes and Saint Cecilia, I would like to present my neck to the executioner’s sword; and like Joan of Arc, on a burning pyre, murmur the name of Jesus!

⁵⁹ If my thoughts focus on the incredible torments that will be shared by Christians in the time of the Antichrist, I feel my heart tremble. I would like these torments to be reserved for me. Open, my Jesus, your Book of Life, where the actions of all the Saints are recorded; I would like to have accomplished these actions for you!

⁶⁰ How will you respond to all my foolishness? Is there a soul on earth smaller, more powerless than mine? However, even because of my weakness, you took pleasure in fulfilling my little childish desires; and today you want to fulfill other desires greater than the universe…

⁶¹ These aspirations becoming a real martyrdom. One day I opened the epistles of Saint Paul, in order to seek some remedy for my torment. Chapters XII and XIII of the first epistle to the Corinthians came before my eyes. I read there that not everyone can be apostles, prophets and teachers at the same time, that the Church is made up of different members, and that the eye cannot be the hand at the same time.

⁶² The answer was clear but did not fulfill my wishes and did not give me peace. “Stooping then to the depths of my nothingness, I rose so high that I was able to reach my goal.” Without being discouraged, I continued reading and this advice relieved me: “Seek with fervor the better gifts. But I will still show you a more excellent way."

⁶³ The Apostle explains that all the most perfect gifts are meaningless without love, and that charity is the most excellent way to confidently reach God. At last, I had found rest!

⁶⁴ Considering the mystical body of the Holy Church, I did not recognize myself in any of the members described by Saint Paul-or rather I wanted to recognize myself in all of them. But love gave me the key to my vocation. I understood that, if the Church had a body composed of different members, it did not lack the most necessary, the noblest of all organs; I understood that she had a heart, and that this heart was burning with love. I understood that love alone made its members act, that if love were to die out, the apostles would no longer announce the Gospel, the martyrs would refuse to shed their blood. I understood that love contained all vocations, that love was everything, that it embraced all times and all places, because it is eternal!

⁶⁵ Then, in the excess of my delirious joy, I cried out: “O Jesus, my love! My vocation, I’ve finally found it! My vocation is love! Yes, I have found my place within the Church, and this place, O my God, was given to me by you. In the heart of the Church, my Mother, I will be love! … So I will be everything. This way my dream will come true!”

⁶⁶ Why talk about delirious joy? No, this expression is not correct. Rather, it was peace that became my share, the calm and serene peace of the navigator seeing the lighthouse which shows him the port. O bright beacon of love! I know how to reach you. I have found the secret of appropriating your flames!

⁶⁷ I am just a helpless and weak child. However, it is my very weakness that gives me the audacity to offer myself as a victim to your love, O Jesus! Formerly, only pure and unblemished offerings were accepted by the strong and powerful God; to satisfy divine justice, perfect victims were needed. But the law of fear was succeeded by the law of love, and love has chosen me as a sacrifice-me, a weak and imperfect creature! Isn’t this choice worthy of love? Yes, for love to be fully satisfied, it must stoop to nothingness and transform this nothingness into fire.

⁶⁸ O my God, I know: love is only paid for by love. So, I searched and I found the way to relieve my heart by returning you love for love. “Use unrighteous riches to make friends who will receive you into the everlasting Tabernacles." This, Lord, is the advice you give to your disciples, after having told them that the children of darkness are more skillful in their affairs than the children of light.

⁶⁹ Child of light, I understood that my desire to be everything, to embrace all vocations, were riches that could well make me unjust. So, I used it to make friends. Remembering the prayer of Elisha to the prophet Elijah, when he asked him for his double spirit, I presented myself before the Angels and the assembly of Saints and I said to them: “I am the smallest of creatures, I know my misery, but I also know how much noble and generous hearts love to do good. I therefore conjure you, blessed inhabitants of the celestial city, to adopt me as a child. To you alone will return the glory that you will acquire for me. Deign to hear my prayer. Obtain for me, I beg you, your double love!”

⁷⁰ O my God! I cannot measure the extent of my request, I should fear to be crushed under the weight of its audacity. My only excuse is my claim to childhood, and that children do not grasp the full meaning of their words. Yet if a father or mother were on the throne and possessed vast treasures, they would not hesitate to grant the desires of those little ones, more dear to them than life itself. To give them pleasure they will stoop even to the point of foolishness.

⁷¹ Well, I am the child of holy Church. The Church is queen since she is your Spouse, oh divine King of kings! It is not riches and glory—even the glory of heaven—that my heart craves. Glory rightfully belongs to my brothers: the Angels and the Saints. My own glory will be the reflection that will shine from my Mother’s forehead. What I’m asking for is love! I only know one thing left-to love you, oh Jesus! Brilliant works are forbidden to me: I cannot preach the Gospel, shed my blood… what does it matter? My brothers work in my place, and I, a little child, stand very close to the royal throne. I love for those who fight.

⁷² But how will I demonstrate my love, since love is proven by works? Well! The little child will throw flowers… she will embalm the divine throne with her perfumes, she will sing with her silver voice the song of love!

⁷³ Yes, my Beloved, this is how my fleeting life will be consumed before you. I have no other way to prove my love to you than to throw flowers: that is to say, to let no small sacrifice escape, no look, no word, to take advantage of the smallest actions and to do them by love. I want to suffer for love and even enjoy for love. So, I will strew flowers. I won’t meet one without plucking its leaves for you… and then I will sing, I will always sing, even if I have to pick my roses among the thorns. And my song will be all the more melodious as these thorns are longer and pricklier.

⁷⁴ But what use, my Jesus, will my flowers and my songs be to you? Ah! I know it well, this embalmed rain, these fragile and worthless petals, these love songs from such a small heart will still charm you. Yes, these nothings will give you pleasure. They will make the triumphant Church smile who, wanting to play with her little child, will collect these leafless roses and, passing them through your divine hands to clothe them with infinite value, will throw them on the suffering Church in order to extinguish the flames, on the Church Militant in order to give it victory.

⁷⁵ O my Jesus! I love you. I love the Church my mother, I remember that the smallest movement of pure love is more useful to it than all the other works put together. But is pure love in my heart? Are my immense desires not a dream, a madness? Ah! If this is so, enlighten me; you know I’m looking for the truth. If my desires are reckless, make them disappear, because these desires are for me the greatest martyrdom. However, I admit, if I do not one day reach these highest regions towards which my soul aspires, I will have tasted more sweetness in my martyrdom, in my madness, than I will taste in the bosom of the eternal joys. Unless, by a miracle, you take away the memory of my earthly hopes. Jesus! Jesus! If the desire of love is so delicious, what is it to possess it, to enjoy it forever?

⁷⁶ How can a soul as imperfect as mine aspire to the fullness of love? So, what is this mystery? Why do you not reserve, oh my only Friend, these immense aspirations for great souls, for the eagles who soar in the heights? Alas! I am only a poor little bird covered only with light down. I am not an eagle; I simply have the eyes and the heart… Yes, despite my extreme smallness, I dare to stare at the divine Sun of love, and I long to soar towards it! I would like to fly; I would like to imitate the eagles. But all I can do is lift my little wings. It is not in my little power to fly away.

⁷⁷ What will I become? Die of pain seeing me so helpless? Oh! No, I’m not even going to grieve. With bold abandon, I want to stay there, staring until death at my divine Sun. Nothing can frighten me, neither the wind nor the rain. And, if big clouds come to hide the Star of love, if I do not seem to believe that there exists anything other than the night of this life, it will then be a moment of perfect joy, a moment to push my confidence to the extreme limits, being careful not to change places, knowing that beyond the sad clouds, my sweet Sun still shines!

⁷⁸ Oh my God! Until then I understand your love for me. But, you know, very often I allow myself to be distracted from my sole occupation. I move away from you, I wet my little barely formed wings in the miserable puddles of water that I encounter on the earth! So, I moan like the swallow, and my groan tells you everything, and you remember, O infinite mercy, that you did not come to call the righteous, but the sinners.

⁷⁹ However, if you remain deaf to the sad chirps of your puny creature, if you remain veiled, well! I agree to stay wet, I agree to be frozen with cold, and I still rejoice in this suffering, although it is deserved. O my darling Star! Yes, I am happy to feel small and weak in your presence. My heart remains in peace… I know that all the eagles of your celestial court take pity on me, that they protect me, defend me and put to flight the vultures, image of demons, who would like to devour me. Ah! I do not fear them, I am not destined to become their prey, but that of the divine Eagle.

⁸⁰ O Word, O my Savior! It is you the Eagle that I love and who attracts me. It is you who, rushing towards the land of exile, wanted to suffer and die in order to take all souls and plunge them down into the heart of the Holy Trinity, eternal home of love! It is you who, going back towards the inaccessible light, remain hidden here in our valley of tears under the appearance of a white host, to nourish me with your own substance. O Jesus, forgive me for saying that your love goes to the point of madness! In the face of this madness, what can you expect, except that my heart rushes towards you? How could my trust have any limits?

⁸¹ Ah! For you, I know, the Saints also did foolish things-but they did great things, since they were eagles! I am too small to do great things, and my foolishness is to hope that your love accepts me as a victim. My madness is to count on the help of Angels and the Saints to fly to you with your own wings, oh my adored Eagle! As long as you want, I will remain with my eyes fixed on you. I want to be fascinated by your divine gaze; I want to become the prey of your love. One day, I have the hope that you will pounce on me, and, carrying me to the hearth of love, you will finally plunge me into this burning abyss, to make me become its happy victim forever.

⁸² O Jesus! I wish I could tell all the little souls about your indescribable condescension! I feel that if you could somehow find somoneone weaker than me, you would be pleased to shower her with even greater favors, provided that she completely abandoned herself to your infinite mercy!

⁸³ Why do I desire to communicate your secrets of love, O my Beloved? Was it not you alone who taught them to me, and cannot you reveal them to others? Yes, I know it, and I implore you to do it. I beg you to lower your divine gaze onto many little souls. I beg you to choose in this world a legion of little victims, worthy of your LOVE!!!

Chapter 12 #

¹ “It is of the greatest importance that the soul exercises itself greatly in love, so that, quickly consummating itself, it hardly stops here below, but quickly arrives to see its God face to face.” St. John of the Cross.

² “Many pages of this story will never be read on earth…” Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus said it, and we necessarily repeat it after her. There are sufferings that must not be revealed here below; only the Lord has jealously reserved for himself the discovery of its merit and glory in the clear vision which will tear away all veils…

³ He made “the waves of infinite tenderness contained in his divine Heart overflow in the soul of his little wife”: this was the martyrdom of love that her melodious voice so graciously sang. But “offering oneself as a victim to love is not offering oneself to sweetness, to consolations…” Thérèse experienced this, because the divine Master led her through the harsh paths of pain. It was only at its severe summit that she died A VICTIM OF CHARITY.

⁴ We have seen how great Thérèse’s sacrifice was when she left her father forever, who loved her so tenderly, and the family home where she had been so happy. We might think that this sacrifice was much softened for her, since in Carmel she found her two elder sisters, the dear confidants of her soul. On the contrary, it was for the young postulant the cause of the most sensitive privations.

⁵ Solitude and silence being rigorously guarded, she only saw her sisters at playtime. If she had been less disciplined, she could have often sat beside them. But “she preferably sought the company of the nuns who pleased her least” so we could say that we didn’t know if she was particularly fond of her sisters.

⁶ Sometime after her entry, she was given as help to Sister Agnès of Jesus, her much-loved “Pauline”. This was a new source of sacrifices. Thérèse knew that useless words are forbidden, and she never allowed herself the slightest confidence. “O my little Mother! She will say later, how I suffered then!… I couldn’t open my heart to you, and I thought you no longer knew me!"

⁷ After five years of this heroic silence, Sister Agnès de Jésus was elected Prioress. On the evening of the election, the heart of “little Thérèse” must have beaten with joy, at the thought that from there on, she could speak to her “little Mother” in complete freedom, and, as before, pour out her soul into hers. But sacrifice had become the food of her life. If she asked for a favor, it was to be considered last, to have last place everywhere. Also, of all the nuns, it was she who saw her Mother Prioress most rarely.

⁸ She wanted to live the life of Carmel with all the perfection requested by her holy Reformer. Although immersed in habitual dryness, her prayer was continuous. One day, a novice entering her cell stopped, struck by the heavenly expression on her face. She was sewing industriously, and yet seemed lost in deep contemplation.

⁹ “What are you thinking about? the young sister asked her. She replied: “I was thinking about the Father. It is so sweet to call the good God our Father!”, and tears shone in her eyes.

¹⁰ “I don’t really see what more I will have in heaven than now,” she said another time, “I will see the good Lord, it’s true; but to be with him, I am already completely there on earth.”

¹¹ A lively flame of love consumed her. Here is what she herself says:

¹² “A few days after my offering to Merciful Love, I was in the choir, beginning the Way of the Cross, when I suddenly felt wounded by a dart of fire so scourging I thought I would die. I don’t know how to explain this rapture. There is no comparison that can make us understand the intensity of this flame. It seemed to me that an invisible force was plunging me entirely into the fire. Oh! What fire! What sweetness!"

¹³ As the Mother Prioress asked her if this experience was the first of her life, she simply replied:

¹⁴ “My Mother, I have had several raptures of love, particularly once, during my novitiate, when I stayed a whole week far away from this world. It seemed as though a veil were thrown over all earthly things. But I was not burned with a real flame; I could bear these delights without expecting to see the bonds that bound me to earth give way. But this time, for one minute, one second more, my soul separated from the body… Alas! I found myself on earth, and the drought immediately returned to inhabit my heart!”

¹⁵ A little more, sweet victim of love. The divine hand has withdrawn its fiery javelin, but the wound is lethal…

¹⁶ In this intimate union with God, Thérèse acquired a truly remarkable mastery over herself-all the virtues blossomed freely in the delicious garden of her soul.

¹⁷ And let no one believe that this magnificent flowering of supernatural beauty grew without any effort.

¹⁸ “There is no land of fertility without suffering: physical pain, secret sorrow, trials known to God or to men. When pious thoughts and generous intentions germinate within us after reading the lives of the Saints, we should not limit ourselves, as with secular books, to just recognising and admiring the genius of the authors. Instead, we should consider the price which they have doubtlessly paid for that supernatural good they have produced.”

¹⁹ And if today “the little saint” brings about marvelous transformations in hearts, and the good she accomplishes on earth is vast, we can truly believe that she obtained it at the same cost that Jesus redeemed our souls: through suffering and the cross!

²⁰ One of her most significant sufferings was the courageous struggle against herself, refusing all satisfaction to the demands of her proud and ardent nature. As a child, she had gotten into the habit of never apologizing or complaining, but in Carmel, she wanted to be the little servant of her sisters.

²¹ In this spirit of humility, she strove to obey everyone indiscriminately.

²² One evening, during her illness, the community was to gather at the hermitage of the Sacred Heart to sing a hymn. Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus, already weakened by fever, had gone there with difficulty. She arrived there exhausted and had to sit down immediately. A nun beckoned her to stand up to sing the hymn. Without hesitation, the humble child got up and, despite the fever and oppression, remained standing until the end.

²³ The nurse had advised her to take a short fifteen minute walk in the garden every day. This advice became an order for her. One afternoon, a sister, seeing her walking with great difficulty, said to her: “You had better rest. Your walk cannot be beneficial for you in such conditions-you are exhausting yourself, that’s all! “That’s true”, replied this child of obedience, “but do you know what gives me strength? Well, I walk for a missionary! I think that over there, far away, one of them is perhaps exhausted in his apostolic errands. To reduce his fatigue, I offer mine to the good Lord.”

²⁴ She gave her novices sublime examples of detachment:

²⁵ One year, for the Mother Prioress’s Day, our families and the monastery workers sent wreaths of flowers. Thérèse arranged them with taste, when a lay sister said to her in a displeased tone: “We can clearly see that these big bouquets were given by your family. I suppose those sent by the poor will again be put in the background!” A gentle smile was the only response from the Carmelite saint. Immediately, despite the change looking worse, she placed the bouquets of the poor in the front row.

²⁶ Full of admiration at such great virtue, the sister went to accuse herself of her imperfection to the Reverend Mother Prioress, highly praising the patience and humility of Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus.

²⁷ Also, when the “Little Queen” had left the land of exile for the kingdom of her Spouse, this same sister, full of faith in her power, approached the icy feet of the virginal child, asking her forgiveness for her fault. Instantly, she felt cured of a cerebral anemia which she had suffered for many years, preventing her from applying herself either to reading or mental prayer.

²⁸ Far from fleeing humiliations, she eagerly sought them. For this reason, she offered herself to help a sister who was known to be difficult to please. Her generous proposal was accepted. One day, when she had suffered a lot of criticism, a novice asked her why she seemed so happy. She was surprised to hear this answer: “It’s because My Sister has just said offensive things to me. Oh! How happy she has made me! I would like to meet her now so I can smile at her.” At the same moment this sister knocked at the door, and the amazed novice was able to see how the saints forgive.

²⁹ She would later say: “I soared so high above earthly things that humiliations made me stronger.”

³⁰ To all these virtues, she added extraordinary courage. As soon as she entered, at the age of fifteen, except for fasts, she was allowed to follow all the practices of our severe rule. Sometimes, her companions in the novitiate noticed her paleness and tried to have her excused, either from the evening Office or from getting up early. The venerated Mother Prioress did not accept their requests: “A soul of this caliber,” she said, “should not be treated like a child-dispensations are not made for her. Leave her, God supports her. Besides, if she is sick, she must come and say it herself.”

³¹ But Thérèse had this principle that “one must go to the end of one’s strength before complaining.” How many times she went to Matines with dizziness or violent headaches! “I can still walk,” she said to herself, “well, I must do my duty!” And, thanks to this energy, she simply performed heroic acts.

³² Her delicate stomach found it difficult to accommodate the frugal food of Carmel. Certain foods made her sick, but she knew how to hide it so well that no one ever suspected it. Her neighbor at the table said she had tried, in vain, to guess which dishes she liked. Also, the sisters in the kitchen, seeing her not being picky, invariably served her the leftovers.

³³ It was only during her final illness, when she was ordered to say what was hurting her, that her self-discipline was revealed.

³⁴ “When Jesus wants us to suffer,” she said then, “we absolutely have to go through that. So, while my sister Marie of the Sacred Heart (her sister Marie) was procuratrix, she tried to look after me with the tenderness of a mother, and I seemed very spoiled! Yet what mortifications she made me do, because she served me according to her tastes which were absolutely opposed to mine!”

³⁵ Her spirit of sacrifice was universal. She eagerly sought what was painful and disagreeable, as her rightful share. Everything God asked of her, she gave it to Him, without any hesitation or reservation.

³⁶ She said: “During my postulancy, it cost me a lot to perform some of the external penances that were customary in our convents. But I never gave in to my revulsion: it seemed to me that the Crucifix in the courtyard was looking at me with pleading eyes, begging me for these sacrifices.”

³⁷ Her vigilance was so keen, that she never left unobserved any little recommendations of the Mother Prioress, or any of the small rules which make the religious life so meritorious. An ancient sister, having noticed her extraordinary fidelity on this point, considered her a saint.

³⁸ She likes to say that she did not do great penances. This was because, in her fervor, she counted for nothing those that were permitted to her. However, it happened that she became ill because she had worn a small iron cross for too long, the points of which had sunk into her flesh. She said afterwards: “Such a small thing did not cause this; the good Lord wanted me to understand that the severe practices of the saints are not for me, nor for the little souls who will walk the same childhood path.”

³⁹ Our Lord once said to Saint Teresa, “The souls that are the most dear to My Father are those He tries the most. The greatness of their trials is the measure of His love.” Thérèse was one of God’s most beloved souls; and He was about to fill up the measure of his love by making her pass through a real martyrdom.

⁴⁰ We know the call on Good Friday, April 3, 1896, where, according to her expression, she heard “like a distant whisper which announced to her the arrival of the Bridegroom.” Long, very painful months were still to pass before this blessed hour of deliverance.

⁴¹ On the morning of that Good Friday, she made so little of the haemorrhage of the previous night, that Mother Prioress allowed her to practise all the penances prescribed by the Rule for that day. In the afternoon, a novice saw her cleaning windows. Her face was pale and, despite her energy, she seemed exhausted. Seeing her like this, this novice who loved her burst into tears and begged leave to obtain her some little relief. But her young mistress expressly forbade her, saying that she was quite able to bear a little fatigue on the day when Jesus had suffered so much for her.

⁴² Soon a persistent cough worried the Reverend Mother. She subjected Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus to a strengthening diet, and the cough disappeared for a few months.

⁴³ “Truly,” said our dear little sister, “illness is too slow a liberator; I can only count on love.”

⁴⁴ Strongly tempted to respond to the call of the Carmel of Hanoi which urgently requested her, she began a novena to the venerable Théophane Vénard, with the aim of obtaining her complete healing. Alas! This novena became the starting point of a most serious condition.

⁴⁵ Like Jesus, she passed through the world doing good; like him, she had been forgotten and unknown; and now, still following in His footsteps, she was to climb the hill of Calvary.

⁴⁶ Accustomed to seeing her always suffer and yet always remain valiant, her Mother Prioress, undoubtedly inspired by God, allowed her to follow the community exercises, some of which were extremely tiring for her.

⁴⁷ When evening came, the heroic child had to climb the dormitory stairs alone. Stopping at each step to catch her breath, she painfully returned to her cell, and arrived there so exhausted that it sometimes took her—she later admitted—an hour to undress. And, after so much fatigue, it was on her hard pallet that she had to spend her rest time.

⁴⁸ Also the nights were very bad. When asked if she needed some help in these hours of suffering, she replied: “Oh no! On the contrary, I consider myself very fortunate to find myself in a cell secluded enough to be not heard by my sisters. I am happy to suffer alone. As soon as I am noticed and showered with delicacies, I no longer experience joy.”

⁴⁹ Holy child! … What mastery had you acquired over yourself to be able to truly say these sublime words! … Thus, what causes us so much displeasure-being forgotten creatures-became your enjoyment! Ah! Your divine Spouse knew very well how to provide you with this bitter enjoyment which was so sweet to you!

⁵⁰ We often made fiery points on her side. One day, when she had suffered particularly badly, she was resting in her cell during recess. She then heard a sister speaking about her in the kitchen: “My sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus will die soon. I really wonder what our Mother will be able to say about it after her death. She will be very embarrassed, because this little sister, as nice as she is, has done nothing worth mentioning.”

⁵¹ The nurse, who also heard everything, said to her: “If you had relied on the opinion of the creatures, you would be very disappointed today."

⁵² She replied: “The opinion of creatures! Ah! Fortunately the good Lord has always given me the grace to be absolutely indifferent to it. Listen to a little story that finally showed me what it’s worth.

⁵³ A few days after I took the habit, I went to our Mother. A sister of the white veil who was there said when she saw me: “My Mother, this novice does you credit! Look how good she looks! I hope she follows the Rule for a long time!” I was very happy with the compliment, when another sister of the white veil, arriving in her turn, said: “My poor little sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus, how tired you look! I’m quite worried about you; if this continues you will not follow the Rule for long!” I was only sixteen years old, but this experience was so impactful, I stopped placing any value in the differing opinions of creatures".

⁵⁴ On another occasion, someone said: “They say that you have never suffered much”? With a smile, she pointed to a glass containing a bright red medicine.

⁵⁵ She replied: “You see this little glass? You would think that it was full of some delicious wine. In reality, it’s the most bitter thing I take. Well, this is the image of my life. In the eyes of others, it has always been a rose color; they assume that I drink a declicious wine. But for me, it is bitterness! I say, bitterness, and yet my life has not been bitter, for I have learned to find joy and sweetness in all that is bitter."

⁵⁶ At another time, she was asked: “You’re in a lot of pain at the moment, aren’t you?” She replied: “Yes, but I wanted it so much!”

⁵⁷ “We are so sad to see you suffer so much… and to think that perhaps you will suffer even more…” her novices told her.

⁵⁸ “Oh, do not grieve for me! I have come to the point where I can no longer suffer, because all suffering is sweet to me. Besides, it is quite a mistake to worry about what I may still have to undergo. It is like trying to create! We who run in the way of love must never allow ourselves to be disturbed by anything. If I did not suffer from minute to minute, it would be impossible for me to remain patient. But I only see the present moment; I forget the past, and I am careful not to consider the future. If we get discouraged, if sometimes we despair, it is usually because we think too much about the past and the future. But pray for me: often, when I beg Heaven to come to my aid, this is when I feel most abandoned!

⁵⁹ “How do you avoid giving in to discouragement during such times?”

⁶⁰ “I turn to the good Lord, to all the saints, and I thank them all the same. I believe that they want to see how far my trust will go… But the words of Job have not entered my heart in vain: “Even if God kills me, I will still hope in him!” I admit, it has taken a long time to develop this level of self-abandonment. I have reached it now, but it is the Lord who has brought me there!”

⁶¹ Another time, she said: “My heart is full of the will of Jesus. If anything else is added, it cannot enter to any depth; like oil on the surface of clear water, it slides easily across. Ah! If my soul was not filled in advance or needed filling by fleeting feelings of joy or sadness, it would be a very bitter flood of pain! But these fleeting changes barely touch my soul. So, I always remain in a deep peace that nothing can disturb.”

⁶² Yet her soul was enveloped in thick darkness. Her temptations against the faith, ever conquered but ever returning, were there to rob her of any feeling of happiness at the thought of her imminent death.

⁶³ And yet her soul was enveloped in thick darkness, and her temptations against Faith, ever conquered but ever returning, were there to rob her of all feeling of happiness at the thought of her approaching death. “Were it not for this trial, which is impossible to understand,” she would say, “I think I would die of joy at the thought of soon leaving this earth.”

⁶⁴ The divine Master wanted, through this ordeal, to complete the purification of her and allow her, not only to walk with rapid steps, but to fly in her little path of trust and abandonment. Her words prove it at every moment:

⁶⁵ “I desire neither death nor life. Were our Lord to offer me my choice, I would not choose. I only will what He wills; it is what He does that I love!”

⁶⁶ “I am in no way afraid of the last battles, nor the suffering of my illness, however great it may be. The good Lord has always helped me. He has led me by the hand from my earliest childhood… I count on Him. The suffering may reach extreme limits, but I am sure that he will never abandon me.”

⁶⁷ This kind of Confidence is bound to excite the fury of the demon who, in the last moments, uses all his infernal tricks to try to sow despair in hearts.

⁶⁸ “Last night,” she said to Mother Agnès of Jesus, “I was overcome by real anguish and my darkness increased. I don’t know what cursed voice said to me: “Are you sure you are loved by God? Did he come to tell you? It is not the opinion of a few creatures that will justify you before him.”

⁶⁹ “I had been suffering from these thoughts for a long time when your little note, like a message from heaven, was brought to me. You reminded me, my Mother, of all the special graces Jesus had lavished upon me. As if my anguish had been revealed to you, you told me that I was greatly loved by God and on the eve of receiving the eternal crown from his hands. Immediately, peace and joy were reborn in my heart. However, the thought came to me: “It is my little Mother’s affection for me that makes her write these words.” Straightaway I felt inspired to take up the holy Gospel, and, opening it at random, my eyes fell on this passage which I had never noticed: “He who God has sent says the same things as God, because he does not give his spirit in part." I then fell asleep, completely comforted. It is you, my Mother, that the good Lord sent me, and I must believe you, since you say the same things as God.

⁷⁰ During the month of August, she remained for several days as if beside herself, begging us to pray for her. We had never seen her like this. In this state of inexpressible anguish, we heard her repeat:

⁷¹ “Oh! How we must pray for the dying! If we only knew!”

⁷² One night she begged the nurse to throw holy water on her bed, saying: “The devil is around me; I don’t see it, but I feel it… it torments me, it holds me as if with an iron hand to prevent me from taking the slightest relief; he increases my pain so that I despair… And I cannot pray! I can only look at the Blessed Virgin and say: “Jesus! How necessary is the prayer of the Compiles: ‘Procul recedant somnia, et noctium phantasmata!’ Deliver us from the ghosts of the night. I experience something mysterious: I do not suffer for myself, but for another soul…. and the demon does not want it.” The nurse, greatly impressed, lit a blessed candle and the spirit of darkness fled, never to return. However, our little sister remained in painful anguish until the end.

⁷³ One day, while she was looking at the sky, someone said to her: “Soon you will live beyond the blue sky. How lovingly you contemplate it!”

⁷⁴ She just smiled and then said to the Mother Prioress: “My Mother, our sisters do not know my suffering! Looking at the blue sky, I merely admired the beauty of the material heaven; the other is more and more closed to me… I was at first distressed by this, but then an inner voice answered me: “Yes, you were looking at the sky out of love. Since your soul is entirely given over to love, all your actions, even the most indifferent, are marked with this divine seal.” Instantly I was consoled.

⁷⁵ In spite of the darkness which enveloped her entirely, from time to time the divine Jailer opened the door of her obscure prison; it was then a transport of abandonment, confidence and love. Walking one day in the garden, supported by one of her sisters, she stopped in front of the delightful painting of a little white hen sheltering her graceful family under her wings. Soon her eyes filled with tears, and, turning to her dear companion, she said: “I cannot stay any longer, let us go home quickly…”

⁷⁶ And, in her cell, she cried for a long time without being able to articulate a single word. Finally, looking at her sister with a heavenly expression, she added: “I was thinking of our Lord, and what a beautiful comparison he used to make us believe in his tenderness. All my life, this is what he did for me: he hid me completely under his wings! I cannot express what’s happened in my heart. Ah! The good Lord does well to veil himself from my gaze, to show me rarely, and as if “through the bars", the effects of his mercy. Otherwise, I feel I could not bear the sweetness of it.”

⁷⁷ We could not resign ourselves to losing this treasure of virtues, and on June 5, 1897, we began a fervent novena to Notre-Dame des Victoires, hoping that once again she would raise up by a miracle the little flower of her love. But she gave us the same answer as the venerable martyr Theophanes, and we had to generously accept the bitter prospect of a future separation.

⁷⁸ At the beginning of July, her condition became very serious, and she was finally taken down to the infirmary. Seeing her cell empty, and knowing that she would never return there, Mother Agnès of Jesus said to her: “When you are no longer with us, what pain I will have looking at this cell!"

⁷⁹ “To console you, my little Mother, you will think that I am very happy up there, and that a large part of my happiness I acquired in this little cell.” Raising her beautiful deep gaze to the sky, she added: “I suffered a lot there; I would have been happy to die there.”

⁸⁰ Entering the infirmary, Thérèse’s gaze was first turned towards the miraculous Virgin that we had placed there. It would be impossible to describe her expression. “What do you see?”, her sister Marie asked-the very one who, in her childhood, witnessed her ecstasy and served as her mother. She replied: “It has never seemed so beautiful to me… but today, it is the statue; in the past, you know very well, that it was not the statue!” And from that time she often received similar consolations.

⁸¹ One evening she cried: “How I love the Virgin Mary! If I had been a priest, how much I would have talked about her! She is made out to be unapproachable, but she should be represented as being easy to imitate. She is more mother than queen! I have heard that her brightness eclipses all the saints, like how as the sun rises, it makes the stars disappear. My God, how strange-a mother who makes her children’s glory disappear! I think the opposite is true; I believe that she will greatly increase the splendour of the elect . . . Our Mother Mary! How simple her life must have been!” And, continuing her speech, she gave us such a sweet, delicious picture of the interior of the Holy Family that we were left in admiration.

⁸² A very difficult ordeal awaited her. From August 16 until September 30, the blessed day of her eternal communion, she was unable to receive the Holy Eucharist due to constant vomiting. Few have hungered for the Bread of Angels like this seraph of earth! Again and again during that last winter of her life, after nights of cruel suffering, the courageous child got up in the morning to go to the Holy Table! She thought there was no price too much for the bliss of uniting with her God.

⁸³ Before being deprived of this heavenly food, Our Lord often visited her on her bed of sorrow. The communion of July 16, the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, was particularly touching. During the night she composed the following verse which was to be sung before communion:

⁸⁴ You who know my extreme smallness,
You are not afraid to lower yourself to me!
Come into my heart, O Sacrament that I love;
Come into my heart… it longs for you.
I want, Lord, your goodness to let me
die of love after this favor.
Jesus! Hear the cry of my tenderness,
Come into my heart!

⁸⁵ In the morning, when the Holy Viaticum was carried to the Infirmary, the cloisters were thickly strewn with wild flowers and rose-petals. A young priest, having to celebrate his first Mass in our chapel that very day, brought the Blessed Sacrament to our sweet patient. And Sister Mary of the Eucharist, whose melodious voice had heavenely vibrations, sang according to her desire:

⁸⁶ Dying of love is a very sweet martyrdom,
And it is the one that I would like to suffer.
O Cherubim! Tune your lyre,
For, I feel, my exile will end…
Divine Jesus, make my dream come true:
To die of love!

⁸⁷ A few days later, the little victim of Jesus found herself worse. On July 30, she received Extreme Unction. Looking radiant, she said: “The door of my dark prison is ajar. I am in joy, especially since our Father Superior assured me that my soul today resembles that of a little child after baptism.”

⁸⁸ No doubt, she thought she would fly away very quickly into the middle of the white phalanx of the Holy Innocents. She did not know that two months of martyrdom still separated her from her deliverance.

⁸⁹ One day, she said to the Mother Prioress: “My Mother, please give me permission to die… Let me offer my life for this purpose…”

⁹⁰ And, as this permission was refused to her: “Well,” she continued, “I know that at this moment the good Lord so desires a small bunch of grapes, but no one wants to offer it to him. He will be obliged to come and steal them… I ask for nothing, as that would be leaving my path of abandonment. I only implore the Virgin Mary to remind her Jesus of the title of Thief that he gave himself in the Holy Gospel, so that He may not forget to come and carry me away.”

⁹¹ One day, a sheaf of ears of wheat was brought to her. She took one so loaded with grains that it tilted on its stem, and she looked at it for a long time… then she said to the Mother Prioress:

⁹² “My Mother, this ear of corn is the image of my soul: the good God has loaded me with graces for me and for many others! Ah! I want to bow always under the abundance of heavenly gifts, recognizing that everything comes from above.”

⁹³ She was not mistaken: yes, her soul was loaded with graces… and how easy it seemed to distinguish the Spirit of God praising himself through that innocent mouth!

⁹⁴ Had not this Spirit of truth already caused the great Teresa of Avila to write: “With humble and holy presumption, let souls who have arrived at divine union hold themselves in high esteem, let them constantly have before their eyes the memory of the benefits received and be careful not to believe that they are acting in humility by not recognizing not the graces of God. Is it not clear that faithful remembrance of benefits increases love towards the benefactor? How can someone who is unaware of the wealth he possesses be able to share it and distribute it liberally?"

⁹⁵ This is not the only time that little Thérèse of Lisieux spoke truly inspired words. In April 1895, when she was in very good health, she confided this to an old and trustworthy nun: “I will die soon. I’m not telling you that it will be in a few months, but in 2 or 3 years at most. I feel it by what is happening in my soul.”

⁹⁶ The novices expressed their surprise to see her guessing their most intimate thoughts: “Here is my secret,” she said to them: “I never make observations to you without invoking the Blessed Virgin. I ask her to inspire me with what should do you the most good, and I myself am often surprised by the things I teach you. I simply feel, in telling you them, that I am not mistaken, and that Jesus speaks to you through my mouth.”

⁹⁷ During her illness, one of her sisters had just had a moment of painful anguish, almost of discouragement, at the thought of an inevitable and imminent separation. Entering the infirmary immediately afterwards, without showing anything of her sorrow, she was very surprised to hear our sick saint say to her in a serious and sad tone: “We should not cry like those who have no hope."

⁹⁸ One of our Mothers, having come to visit her, did her a small service. “How happy I would be,” she thought, “if this angel said to me: ‘In Heaven, I will return this to you!’ At the same moment, Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus, turning towards her, said: “My Mother, in Heaven I will return this to you!”

⁹⁹ But the most surprising thing is that she seemed to be aware of the mission for which the Lord had sent her here on earth. The veil of the future seemed to fall before her; more than once, she revealed its secrets to us in prophecies already fulfilled: “I have never given the good Lord anything but love,” she said, “he will give me love back."

¹⁰⁰ “AFTER MY DEATH, I WILL MAKE A SHOWER OF ROSES FALL.”

¹⁰¹ A Sister spoke to her about the bliss of heaven. She interrupted her, saying: “That’s not what attracts me…"

¹⁰² “What then?”

¹⁰³ “Oh! It’s LOVE! To love, to be loved, and to return to earth to make Love loved.”

¹⁰⁴ One evening, she welcomed Mother Agnès of Jesus with a very particular expression of serene joy: “My Mother, a few notes from a far away concert have just reached my ears, and I thought that soon I would hear incomparable melodies. But I could only rejoice in this hope for a moment. Only one expectation makes my heart beat: it is the love that I will receive and the love that I will be able to give!”

¹⁰⁵ “I feel that my mission is about to begin, my mission to make the good God loved as I love him… to give my little way to souls."

¹⁰⁶ “I WANT TO SPEND MY HEAVEN DOING GOOD ON EARTH".

¹⁰⁷ “It is not impossible, since within the beatific vision itself, the angels watch over us. No, I won’t be able to rest until the end of the world! But when the angel has said: “The time is no more!” then I will rest, I will be able to rejoice, because the number of the elect will be complete."

¹⁰⁸ “What little way do you want to teach souls?”

¹⁰⁹ “My Mother, IT IS THE WAY OF SPIRITUAL CHILDHOOD, THE WAY OF TRUST AND ABSOLUTE SELF-SURRENDER.”

¹¹⁰ I want to point out to them the means that I have always found so perfectly successful, to tell them that there is but one thing to do here below: we must offer Jesus the flowers of little sacrifices and win him by a caress. That is how I have won him, and that is why I shall be made so welcome."

¹¹¹ “If I mislead you with my little path of love,” she said to a novice, “do not fear that I will let you follow it for long. I will appear to you soon to tell you to take another route. But, if I do not come back, believe in the truth of my words: one can never have too much confidence in the good God, so powerful and so merciful! We get as much from him as we hope for!"

¹¹² The day before the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel a novice said to her: “If you were to die tomorrow, after communion, I believe it would be such a beautiful death that it would console me for all my pain.”

¹¹³ And Thérèse replied quickly: “Die after communion! A day of great celebration! No, it will not be so: little souls could not imitate this. In my little way, there are only very ordinary things. Everything I do must be something that small souls can do.”

¹¹⁴ She also wrote to one of her brother missionaries: “What attracts me to the Fatherland of Heaven is the call of the Lord. It is the hope of finally loving him as I have so desired, and the thought that I will be able to make him loved by ‘a multitude of souls who will bless him eternally.’"

¹¹⁵ And another time: “I intend not to remain inactive in Heaven, my desire is to continue working for the Church and souls. I ask this of God and I am sure that he will hear me. You see that, if I already leave the battlefield, it is not with the selfish desire to rest. Suffering has long become my heaven here below, and I find it difficult to imagine how I will acclimatize myself in a country where joy reigns without any mixture of sadness. Jesus will have to completely transform my soul, otherwise I would not be able to bear the eternal delights.”

¹¹⁶ It was quite true: suffering had become her Heaven upon earth—she welcomed it as we do happiness. She would say: “When I suffer a lot, when painful, unpleasant things happen to me, instead of looking sad, I respond with a smile. At first, I did not always succeed. But now it has become a habit which I am very happy to have acquired.”

¹¹⁷ One of our sisters doubted her patience. One day, while visiting her, she saw an expression of heavenly joy on her face and wanted to know the cause.

¹¹⁸ “It’s because I feel a very strong pain,” replied Thérèse; “I have always tried to love suffering and welcome it.”

¹¹⁹ “Why are you so cheerful this morning?” Mother Agnès of Jesus asked her.

¹²⁰ “It’s because I had two small troubles; nothing gives me little joys like little sorrows.”

¹²¹ And another time: “Have you had many trials today?”

¹²² “Yes, but I love them… I love everything that the good Lord gives me!”

¹²³ “Is it terrible what you are suffering?”

¹²⁴ “No, it’s not terrible. Could a little victim of love find what her Spouse sends her awful? Each moment he sends me what I am able to bear-nothing more. And if, the next moment, my suffering increases, it also increases my strength.”

¹²⁵ “However, I could never ask him for greater suffering, for I am too small. It would then be of my own choice, so I would have to bear it without him. I could never do anything on my own.”

¹²⁶ She said this on her deathbed, this wise and prudent virgin whose lamp, always filled with the oil of virtues, shone until the end.

¹²⁷ If the Holy Spirit tells us in the book of Proverbs: “A man’s doctrine is proved by his patience”, those who have heard her can believe in her doctrine, now that she has proven it with invincible patience.

¹²⁸ At each visit, the doctor showed us his admiration: “Ah! If you only knew what she endures! I have never seen so much suffering with this expression of supernatural joy. It’s an angel!” And as we expressed our sorrow at the thought of losing such a treasure: — “I will not be able to heal her, she is a soul that was not made for the earth.”

¹²⁹ Seeing her extreme weakness, he ordered strengthening remedies. Thérèse was saddened at first by their high price; then she tells us: “I no longer grieve about taking expensive medicines, because I read that when they were given to Saint Gertrude, she was gladdened by the thought that it would greatly benefit those who gave it, since Our Lord said: ‘What you do to the least of mine, you will do it to me.’"

¹³⁰ “I am convinced of the uselessness of medicines to cure me,” she added, “but I have arranged with the good Lord so that he can benefit poor missionaries who have neither the time nor the means to take care of themselves.”

¹³¹ Touched by the attentions of his little wife, the Lord, who never allows himself to be defeated in generosity, also surrounded her with his divine attentions: sometimes, it was floral sheaves sent by her family, sometimes a little robin who came jumping on her bed, looking at her with an air of knowledge and doing her a thousand kindnesses.

¹³² “My Mother,” said our child, “I am deeply moved by the care the good Lord shows for me. On the outside, I am filled with it… and yet I remain in the darkest darkness! … I suffer a lot… yes, a lot! And yet, I feel an astonishing peace. All my desires have been fulfilled… I am full of confidence.”

¹³³ Sometime later, she recounted this touching story: “One evening, at the hour of great silence, the nurse came to put a bottle of hot water at my feet and tincture of iodine on my chest. I was consumed by fever; a burning thirst devoured me. While undergoing these remedies, I could not help but complain to Our Lord: ‘My Jesus,’ I said to Him, ‘you are witness, I am burning, and they still bring me heat and fire! Ah! If I had, instead of all this, half a glass of water, how much more relieved I would be! … My Jesus! Your little girl is very thirsty! But she is nevertheless happy to find an opportunity to lack what she needs, in order to better resemble you and to save souls’. Soon the nurse left me, and I didn’t intend to see her again until the next morning, when to my great surprise she returned a few minutes later, bringing a refreshing drink. ‘I just thought that you might be thirsty,’ she said to me, ‘from now on I will get into the habit of offering you this relief every evening.’ I looked at her, stunned, and when I was alone, I began to burst into tears. Oh! How good our Jesus is! How sweet and tender he is! How easy his heart is to touch!”

¹³⁴ One of the delicacies of the Heart of Jesus, which caused the most joy to his little wife, was that of September 6, the day when, by a completely providential event, we received a relic of the venerable Théophane Vénard. Several times already, she had expressed the desire to possess something that belonged to her blessed friend; but, seeing that no action was taken, she no longer spoke of it. So, her emotion was great when the Mother Prioress gave her the precious object; she covered it with kisses and never wanted to part with it.

¹³⁵ Why did she cherish the angelic missionary so much? She confided it to her beloved sisters in a touching interview: “Théophane Vénard is a little saint, his life is completely ordinary. He loved the Immaculate Virgin very much and he loved his family very much.”

¹³⁶ Then emphasizing these last words: “I love my family very much too! I don’t understand saints who don’t love their families! … As a farewell souvenir, I have copied for you certain passages from the last letters he wrote to his parents. These are my thoughts; my soul resembles his.”

¹³⁷ We transcribe here this letter which one would believe came from the pen and the heart of our angel:

¹³⁸ “I find nothing on earth that makes me happy. My heart is too big, nothing that we call happiness in this world can satisfy it. My thoughts fly towards eternity; time is going to end! My heart is peaceful like a quiet lake or a serene sky. I do not regret the life of this world: I thirst for the waters of eternal life… A little more and my soul will leave the earth, end its exile, end its fight. I’m going to heaven! I will enter this abode of the elect, see beauties that the eye of man has never seen, hear harmonies that the ear has never heard, enjoy joys that the heart has never tasted… Here I am at this hour that each of us so desired! It is very true that the Lord chooses the little ones to shame the great ones of this world. I rely not on my own strength, but on the strength of Him who, on the cross, defeated the powers of hell. I am a spring flower that the Master of the garden picks for his pleasure. We are all flowers planted on this earth which God picks in his time: a little earlier, a little later… I, little ephemeral, am going first! One day we will meet in heaven and enjoy true happiness.”

¹³⁹ SISTER THÉRÈSE OF THE CHILD JESUS, borrowing the words of the angelic martyr Théophane Vénard.

¹⁴⁰ Towards the end of September, when she was told something that had been said at recreation about the responsibility of those who care for souls, she revived for a moment and uttered these beautiful words: “The little ones will be judged with extreme gentleness! It is possible to remain small, even in the most responsible positions. Is it not written that in the end: ’the Lord will arise to save all the meek and humble of the earth’? He does not say ‘judge’, but ‘save’!”

¹⁴¹ However, the flood of pain rose more and more. The weakness became so excessive that, soon, the holy little patient could no longer make the slightest movement without help. Hearing people speak near her, even in a low voice, was painful for her. The fever and oppression did not allow her to utter a single word without feeling the most extreme fatigue. In this state, however, the smile did not leave her lips. Was a cloud passing over her forehead? It was the fear of giving our sisters additional pain. Until the day before her death, she wanted to be alone at night. However, her nurse got up several times, despite her urging. On one of her visits, she found her with her hands clasped and her eyes raised to the sky.

¹⁴² “What are you doing?" she asked her, “we should try to sleep”.

¹⁴³ “I can’t, sister, I’m in too much pain! So I pray…”

¹⁴⁴ “And what do you say to Jesus?”

¹⁴⁵ “I don’t tell him anything-I only love him!”

¹⁴⁶ “Oh! How the good Lord is good!” she sometimes exclaimed. “Yes, he must be very good to give me the strength to endure everything I suffer.”

¹⁴⁷ One day she said to her Mother Prioress: “My Mother, I would like to confide to you the state of my soul, but I can’t. I’m too emotional at the moment.”

¹⁴⁸ And, in the evening, she gave her these lines, traced in pencil, with a trembling hand: “O my God, how good you are to the little victim of your merciful love! Even now that you add external suffering to the trials of my soul, I cannot say: “The anguish of death surrounded me.” But I cry out in gratitude: “I came down in the valley of the shadows of death, however, I will fear no evil, because you are with me, Lord.”

¹⁴⁹ “Some people believe that you are afraid of death,” said her little Mother.

¹⁵⁰ “That may well happen. I never rely on my own thoughts as I know how weak I am. But I want to enjoy the feeling that the good Lord gives me now. There will always be time to suffer if it comes. Mr. Chaplain said to me: ‘Are you resigned to dying?’ I replied: ‘Ah! My Father, instead I need to be resigned to live-I feel joy at the thought of death.’ Do not worry, Mother, if I suffer a lot, and if I show no sign of happiness at the last moment. Did not Our Lord die, a victim of love? And see what his agony was!”

¹⁵¹ Finally, the dawn of eternal day dawned! It was Thursday, September 30. In the morning, our sweet victim, speaking of her last night of exile, looked at the statue of Mary saying: “Oh! I prayed to her with fervor!… but it is pure agony, without any mixture of consolation… I miss the air of the earth, when will I have the air of Heaven?”

¹⁵² At half-past two she sat up in bed, something she had not been able to do for several weeks, and cried: “My Mother, the chalice is full to the brim! No, I would never have believed that it was possible to suffer so much… I can only explain this to myself by my extreme desire to save souls…”

¹⁵³ And some time later: “All that I have written about my desire for suffering, oh, it’s true! I do not regret giving myself over to love." She repeated these last words several times.

¹⁵⁴ And a little later: “My Mother, prepare me to die well.”

¹⁵⁵ Her venerated Prioress encouraged her with these words: “My child, you are ready to appear before God, because you have always understood the virtue of humility.”

¹⁵⁶ She then gave herself this beautiful testimony: “Yes, I feel it, my soul has never sought anything other than the truth… yes, I have understood the humility of the heart!”

¹⁵⁷ At half past four, the symptoms of the last agony manifested themselves. As soon as our dying angelic saw the community enter, she thanked them with the most gracious smile. Then entirely devoted to love and suffering, holding the crucifix in her failing hands, she entered the final combat. Profuse sweat covered her face, she trembled… But, as in the heart of a furious storm, a pilot, when close to the harbor, does not lose courage, so this soul of faith, seeing nearby the luminous beacon of the eternal shore, valiantly gave the last strokes of the oar to reach the shore.

¹⁵⁸ When the monastery bell tolled the evening Angelus, it fixed an inexpressible gaze on the Star of the Seas, the Immaculate Virgin. Wasn’t it time to sing:

¹⁵⁹ You, who came to smile at me in the morning of my life,
Come and smile at me again, Mother, here is the evening!

¹⁶⁰ At a few minutes past seven, our poor little martyr, turning to her Mother Prioress, said: “My Mother, isn’t this agony? … Am I not going to die? …

¹⁶¹ “Yes, my child, it is agony, but Jesus perhaps wants to prolong it for a few hours.”

¹⁶² Then, in a soft and sad voice: “Well… let’s… let’s… oh! I wouldn’t want to suffer less!”

¹⁶³ Then, looking at her crucifix: “OH! … I LOVE HIM! …GOD, I… LOVE… YOU!"

¹⁶⁴ These were her last words. She had barely pronounced them when, to our great surprise, she suddenly collapsed, her head tilted to the right, in the attitude of those virgin martyrs offering themselves to the edge of the sword; or rather, like a victim of love, waiting for the fiery arrow from the divine Archer with which she wants to die…

¹⁶⁵ Suddenly she gets up, as if called by a mysterious voice, she opens her eyes and fixes them a little above the image of Mary, shining with heavenly peace and indescribable happiness.

¹⁶⁶ This gaze continued for the space of a Creed, and her blessed soul, having become the prey of the divine Eagle, flew into the skies…

¹⁶⁷ …………………….
…………………….

¹⁶⁸ This angel had told us a few days before leaving this world: “The death of love that I wish for is that of Jesus on the cross." Her desire was fully granted: darkness and anguish accompanied her agony. However, can we not also apply to her the sublime prophecy of Saint John of the Cross, referring to souls consumed in divine charity: “They die in raptured ecstasies and delicious assaults that love delivers to them, like the swan whose song is more melodious when it is on the point of death. This is what made David say that “the death of the righteous is precious before God” because it is then that the rivers of love escape from the soul and go to be lost in the “ocean of divine love.”

¹⁶⁹ As soon as our white dove took flight, the joy of her last moment was printed on her forehead; a radiant smile illuminated her face. We put a palm in her hand, and lilies and roses surrounded the virginal remains of her who carried to heaven the white dress of her baptism, stained with the blood of her martyrdom of love.

¹⁷⁰ On Saturday and Sunday, a large and collected crowd continued to flock to the choir gate, contemplating the majesty of death. “The little queen” always graceful, was touched by hundreds of rosaries, medals, jewellery, and the like.

¹⁷¹ On October 4, the day of the burial, we saw her surrounded by a beautiful crown of priests. This was fitting: she had prayed so much for priestly souls! Finally, after having been solemnly blessed, this precious grain of wheat was cast into the ground by the maternal hands of the holy Church…

¹⁷² Who can say how many ripened ears of corn have grow up since?… Once again, the words of the divine Reaper have been magnificently fulfilled: “Truly, I tell you, if the grain of wheat having fallen to the ground does not die, it remains alone. But if it dies, IT BEARS MANY FRUITS…"

¹⁷³ From the world she passed the fleeting image…

¹⁷⁴ Heaven is mine!
Angels, that evening, in the shadows descended,
To seek a sister and take her to Heaven;
On their azure wings, joyful, they delighted her,
And the Child-God, Jesus, ran before them.

¹⁷⁵ Virgins were there, to conquer him,
And the ardor of triumph in their eyes burst forth;
They all looked at her with an air of celebration,
The Immaculate Virgin also smiled at her!…

¹⁷⁶ And, her bonds broken, Thérèse appeared in their midst,
beautiful and young, and with a fiery eye;
Alone, her forehead was adorned with new flowers,
Brighter than dawn in the first days of May.

¹⁷⁷ This chosen wife, pure and serene soul,
Already full of days, was going to seek in Heaven,
In Heaven impatient to proclaim her queen,
From her ardent love the eternal salary…

¹⁷⁸ Beautiful LEAF ROSE once on earth,
We run to the smell of your sweet perfumes.
You who understood Love, give us your light,
Throw your petals on us again from up there!

Appendix #

¹ We find in the portrait that RIBEIRA left us of the great Thérèse of Jesus, the features with which the little Thérèse of the Child Jesus is faithfully painted (except for slight modifications indicated in italics):

² “She was tall and very well made. She had blue eyes, blond hair, fine and regular features, very beautiful hands. Her face was very beautifully cut, well proportioned, with a lily complexion: it lit up when she spoke of God and gave her a ravishing beauty. Her face was ineffably limpid, everything there breathed a celestial peace. Finally, everything seemed perfect about her. Her approach was full of dignity at the same time full of simplicity and grace; she was so amiable, so peaceful, that it was enough to see and hear her to respect her and love her.”

Chapter 13 #

Advice and Memories #

¹ In Thérèse’s conversations with her novices, we find the most precious teachings.

1. #

¹ I became discouraged at the sight of my imperfections, says one of them, Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus said to me:

² “You remind me of the very small child who is beginning to stand up but cannot yet walk. Wanting to reach the top of a staircase to find his mother, he lifts his little foot to climb the first step. Useless trouble! He always falls back without being able to move forward. Well, be that little child. By practicing all the virtues, always lift your little foot to climb the staircase of holiness, and do not imagine that you will be able to climb even the first step! No; but the good Lord only asks good will from you. From the top of this staircase, he looks at you with love. Soon defeated by your useless efforts, he himself will descend, and, taking you in his arms, will carry you away forever into his kingdom where you will never leave him. But, if you stop lifting your little foot, it will leave you on the earth for a long time.”

³ She said again: “The only way to make rapid progress on the path of love is to always remain very little. This is what I did. Now I can sing with our Father Saint John of the Cross:

⁴ And stooping so low, so low, I rose so high, so high, That I could reach my goal!…"

2. #

¹ In a temptation that seemed insurmountable to me, I said to her: “This time, I cannot put myself above it, it’s impossible.”

² She answered me: “Why are you trying to put yourself above? Simply go under it. It is good for great souls to fly above the clouds when the storm roars. But for us, we just have to patiently endure the showers. Too bad if we’re a little wet! We will then dry ourselves in the sun of love. I remember an example from my childhood. A horse blocked our entrance to the garden one day, and people were talking around me trying to make him back down. I let the discussion go, and passed gently between her legs… That’s what you gain by keeping your small size!”

3. #

¹ “Our Lord once replied to the mother of the sons of Zebedee: “To be on my right and on my left, it is for those for whom my Father has destined him." I imagine that these honored places will not go to great saints or martyrs, but to little children. Did not David predict this when he said that little Benjamin would preside over the assemblies (of the saints)?”

4. #

¹ “You are wrong to find fault with this and that, to try to make everyone conform to your way of thinking. Since we want to be little children, little children do not know what is best-they find everything good. Let’s imitate them. Besides, there is no merit in doing what is reasonable.”

5. #

¹ “My protectors in heaven and my honored ones are those who stole it, like the Holy Innocents and the good thief. The great saints have won it by their works; I want to imitate the thieves, I want to have it by trick, a ruse of love which will open the entrance to me and to poor sinners. The Holy Spirit encourages me, since he says in proverbs: “O little one! Come, learn finesse from me."

6. #

¹ “What would you do if you could start your religious life again?"

² “It seems to me that I would do what I did.”

³ “You therefore do not experience the feeling of this solitary man who said: ‘Even if I had lived many years in penitence, as long as I have a quarter of an hour left, a breath of life, I fear I will damn myself’?”

⁴ “No, I cannot share this fear, I am too little to damn myself. Little children do not damn themselves”.

⁵ “You always try to be like little children, but tell us what we must do to possess the spirit of childhood? What does it mean to stay small?”

⁶ “To remain little is to recognize one’s nothingness, to expect everything from the good Lord, and not be too distressed by one’s faults. Finally, it means not making a fortune and not worrying about anything. Even among the poor, as long as the child is very small, he is given what he needs. But when he grows up, his father no longer wants to feed him and says to him: ‘Work now! You can be self-sufficient.’ Well! It was to avoid hearing this that I never wanted to grow up, feeling incapable of earning my living, eternal life!”

7. #

¹ In order to imitate our angelic Mistress, I wanted to not grow up, so she called me “the little child”. During a retreat she sent me these delicious notes:

² “Do not be afraid to tell Jesus that you love him, even without feeling it. This is the way to force him to help you, to carry you like a little child too weak to walk.

³ “It is a great test to see everything in black, but it does not depend on you completely. Do what you can to detach your heart from the worries of the earth, and especially of people. Then, be sure that Jesus will do the rest. He cannot allow you to fall into the abyss. Console yourself, little child. In heaven you will no longer see everything in black, but in white. Yes, everything will be clothed in the divine whiteness of our Spouse, the Lily of the Valleys. Together, we will follow him wherever he goes… Ah! Let’s enjoy the short moment of life! Let us please Jesus; let us save souls for him through our sacrifices. Above all, let us be small, so small that everyone can trample us underfoot, without us even seeming to feel it or suffer from it.”

⁴ “I am not surprised by the little child’s defeats; he forgets that being also a missionary and warrior, he must deprive himself of too childish consolations. But how naughty is it to spend your time moping around, instead of falling asleep on the Heart of Jesus!"

⁵ “If the night frightens the little child, if he complains of not seeing the One who carries him, let him close his eyes. This is the only sacrifice that Jesus asks of him. By remaining peaceful in this way, the night will not frighten him, since he will no longer see it. Soon calm, if not joy, will be reborn in his heart.”

8. #

¹ To help me accept humiliation, she told me this:

² “If I had not been accepted into Carmel, I would have entered a Refuge, to live there unknown and despised, among the poor “repentants”. My happiness would have been to pass for such in everyone’s eyes, and I would have made myself the apostle of my companions, telling them what I think of the mercy of the good God…

³ “But how could you have managed to hide your innocence from the confessor?”

⁴ “I would have told him that I had made a general confession in the world and that I was forbidden to repeat it again.”

9. #

¹ “Oh! When I think of everything I have to acquire!”

² “No, to lose! It is Jesus who is responsible for filling your soul, as you rid it of its imperfections. I can see that you are taking the wrong route; you will never reach the end of your journey. You want to climb a mountain, and the good Lord wants to take you down. He awaits you at the bottom of the fertile valley of humility.”

10. #

¹ “It seems to me that humility is the truth. I don’t know if I’m humble, but I know I see the truth in all things.”

11. #

¹ “Truly, you are a saint!”

² “No, I am not a saint; I have never done the actions of the saints. I am a very small soul whom the good God has filled with graces… You will see in heaven that I speak the truth.”

³ “But you have always been faithful to divine graces, haven’t you?”

⁴ “Yes, since the age of three, I have refused nothing to the good Lord. However, I cannot boast about it. See how this evening the setting sun gilds the tops of the tree. Like this, my soul appears to you all brilliant and golden, because it is exposed to the rays of love. If the divine sun no longer sent its fire to me, I would immediately become obscure and dark.”

⁵ “We would also like to become all golden. How can we do that?”

⁶ “You have to practice the little virtues. It is sometimes difficult, but the good Lord never refuses the first grace which gives the courage to overcome oneself. If the soul responds to it, it is immediately in the light. I have always been struck by the praise addressed to Judith: “You acted with manly courage and your heart was strengthened.” First, we must act with courage. Then the heart strengthens, and we march from victory to victory.”

12. #

¹ Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus never raised her eyes in the refectory, as required by the regulations. As I had great difficulty in complying with it, she composed this prayer, which was a revelation of her humility to me, because in it she asks for a grace that I alone needed:

² “Jesus, your two little wives resolve to keep their eyes down during the refectory, in order to honor and imitate the example you gave them in Herod. When this impious prince mocked you, O infinite Beauty, not a complaint came from your lips. You did not even deign to fix your adorable eyes on him. Oh! Undoubtedly, divine Jesus, Herod did not deserve to be looked at by you. But we who are your wives want to attract your divine gaze to us. We ask you to reward us with this look of love each time we deprive ourselves of looking up. We even ask you not to refuse us this sweet look when we have fallen, since we will sincerely humble ourselves before you.”

13. #

¹ I confided to her that I couldn’t achieve anything and I was discouraged.

² “Until the age of fourteen,” she told me, “I practiced virtue without feeling its sweetness. I desired suffering, but I did not think of making it my joy-it was a grace that was granted to me later. My soul was like a beautiful tree whose flowers fell as soon as they bloomed.

³ “Make to the good Lord the sacrifice of never picking fruit. If he wants you, for all your life, to hate suffering, or humiliation, or if he allows all the flowers of your desires and your good will to fall to the ground without producing anything, do not be troubled. In the blink of an eye, at the moment of your death, he will be able to make beautiful fruits ripen on the tree of your soul.”

⁴ “We read in Ecclesiasticus: ‘There is a man lacking in strength and abounding in poverty, and the eye of God has looked upon him well, and has lifted him up from his humiliation, and has lifted up his head; many were surprised and honored God… Trust in God and remain in your place, for it is easy for the Lord to suddenly enrich the poor. His blessing hastens for the reward of the righteous, and in a quick moment he brings his progress to fruition.”

⁵ “But, if I fall, I will always be found imperfect, while you will be found to have virtue?”

⁶ “Perhaps it’s because I never wanted it… But if people always find you imperfect, that’s what you need, that’s your gain. Believing yourself to be imperfect and finding others perfect is happiness. If people recognize that you lack virtue, it takes nothing away from you and does not make you poorer-they are the ones who lose inner joy! Because there is nothing sweeter than thinking well of our neighbor.”

⁷ “For me, I experience great joy, not only when I am found to be imperfect, but above all, when I feel that I am. On the contrary, compliments only cause me displeasure.”

14. #

¹ “The good Lord has a special love for you, since he entrusts you with other souls".

² “That makes no difference, and I really am only what I am before God… Just because he wants me to be his interpreter for you doesn’t make me any more loved. Rather, he makes me your little servant. It is for you, not me, that he gave me the charms and virtues that you see.”

³ “I often compare myself to a small bowl that the good Lord fills with all kinds of good things. All the little cats come and take their share. Sometimes, they argue over who gets more. But the Child Jesus is there waiting! “I am willing for you to drink from my little bowl,” he said, “but be careful not to knock it over or break it!"

⁴ “To tell the truth, there is no great danger, because I am on the ground. For the Prioresses, it is not the same thing. Being placed on tables, they are in much greater danger".

⁵ “Honor is always dangerous. Ah! What poison of praise is given everyday to those who hold the first places! What a disastrous aroma! And how detached a soul must be from itself in order not to experience harm!”

15. #

¹ “It is a consolation for you to do good, to bring glory to God. How I would like to see myself so privileged!

² “What does it matter to me that the good Lord uses me, rather than someone else, to obtain his glory? Provided that his reign is established in souls, the instrument matters little. Besides, he doesn’t need anyone.

³ “Some time ago I was looking at the wick of a little night light that was almost out. One of our sisters brought her candle there; and, by this candle, all those of the community were lit. I then reflected: “Who then could glory in his works? So, by the faint glow with this lamp, it would be possible to set the universe ablaze. We often believe we receive divine graces and lights through bright candles, but where do these candles get their flame from? Perhaps from the prayer of a humble and completely hidden soul, without apparent brilliance, without recognized virtue, lowered in its own eyes, on the verge of dying out.”

⁴ “Oh! How many mysteries we will see later! How many times have I thought that I may owe all the graces with which I have been showered to the urging of a little soul that I will only know in heaven!”

⁵ “It is the will of the good God that in this world, souls pass on to each other the heavenly gifts through prayer, so that, returned to their homeland, they can love each other with a love of gratitude, with an affection even greater than that of the most ideal family on earth.”

⁶ “There we will not encounter indifferent looks, because all the saints will owe each other something. We will no longer see envious looks. Moreover, the happiness of one of the elect will be the happiness of all the elect. With the martyrs, we will be like the martyrs; with the doctors, we will be like the doctors; with virgins, like virgins. Just as members of the same family are proud of each other, so we will be of our brothers, without the slightest jealousy."

⁷ “Who can say if the joy we will experience in witnessing the glory of the great saints, and in realizing that, through a secret spring of Providence, we have played a part in it, will not be as profound—perhaps even sweeter—than the happiness they themselves will possess?"

⁸ “And, for their part, do you think that the great saints, seeing what they owe to very small souls, will not love them with an incomparable love? There will be, I am sure, delicious and surprising sympathies there. The privileged one of an apostle, of a great doctor, will perhaps be a little shepherd, and the close friend of a patriarch, a simple little child. Oh! How I would like to be in this kingdom of love!”

16. #

¹ “Believe me: writing books of piety, composing the most sublime poetry, all this is not worth the smallest act of self-denial. However, when our inability to do good pains us, all we can offer is the works of others. This is the benefit of the communion of Saints. Remember this beautiful verse from the Spiritual Canticle of our Father Saint John of the Cross:

² Come back, my dove, For the wounded deer Appears on the top of the hill, Attracted by the air of your flight, and it takes fresh air.

³ “You see, the Bridegroom, the wounded Deer is not attracted by height, but only by the air of flight, and a simple stroke of the wing is enough to produce this breeze of love.”

17. #

¹ “The only thing that escapes envy is last place; thus, only this last place is free from vanity and the affliction of spirit. Yet, ’the way of man is not his own’, and at times, we are drawn to what dazzles. Therefore, let us humbly accept our place among the imperfect, regarding ourselves as small souls who depend on the Lord’s constant support. When we are fully convinced of our nothingness and turn to Him saying, “My foot has wavered, but Your mercy, Lord, has upheld me,” He extends His hand to us. However, if we attempt to pursue greatness, even under the guise of zeal, He leaves us to our own devices. True holiness for us lies in humbling ourselves, patiently enduring our imperfections, and embracing them with meekness.”

18. #

¹ One day I was complaining of being more tired than my Sisters, for, besides the ordinary duties, I had other work unknown to the rest. She answered me:

² “I would always like to see you as a valiant soldier who does not complain about his troubles, who finds the wounds of his brothers very serious, and his own as mere scratches. You feel so tired because no one is aware of it."

³ “When Blessed Marguerite-Marie had two whitlows, said she only really suffered from the first, because it was not possible for her to hide the second, making her the object of the sisters’ compassion. This feeling is natural to us: but it is cowardly to want people to know our aches and pains.”

19. #

¹ “When we are guilty of a fault, we must never believe that it is due to a physical cause, such as illness or the weather. Without being discouraged, attribute the fall to our imperfections. ‘Occasions do not make a man frail but rather shows what he is.’"

20. #

¹ “The good Lord did not permit our Mother to instruct me to write down my poems as I composed them, and I would not have dared to ask her, fearing it might go against the spirit of poverty. So, I waited until my free time, and it was with great difficulty that I recalled, at eight in the evening, what I had composed in the morning."

² “These small sacrifices are indeed a type of martyrdom; however, we must take care not to lessen their value by indulging in, or being permitted, countless comforts that would make religious life more pleasant and convenient.”

21. #

¹ One day, as I was crying, Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus told me to get accustomed to not showing my small sufferings so openly, explaining that nothing dampens community life more than fluctuations in mood.

² “You are quite right,” I replied, “I had thought so myself, and from now on I will never cry except with the good Lord. To him alone I will confide my sorrows, he will always understand me and console me.”

³ She resumed quickly: “Cry before the good Lord? No, you must not do this. Appear sad, even less so before Him than before others. How could we? This loving Master has only our monasteries to bring joy to His Heart. He comes to us for rest, to escape the endless complaints of His worldly friends. So often on earth, instead of valuing the Cross, people weep and lament—and would you act like them? Truly, that is not selfless love. It is our role to console Jesus, not for Him to console us."

⁴ “I know, he has such a good heart that if you cry, he will wipe away your tears. But then he will go away sad, not having been able to rest in you. Jesus loves joyful hearts. He loves a soul that is always smiling. When will you know how to hide your sorrows from him, or tell him in song that you are happy to suffer for him?

⁵ “The face is the reflection of the soul,” she added, “you must always have a calm and serene face, like a little child who is always happy. When you are alone, still act in the same way, because you are continually a spectacle to the Angels.”

22. #

¹ I wanted her to congratulate me performing what I considered to be an act of heroic virtue. But she said to me:

² “What is this small act of virtue, compared to what Jesus has the right to expect from your faithfulness? You should rather humiliate yourself for letting slip so many opportunities to prove your love to him.”

³ Unsatisfied with her response, I waited for a challenging situation to observe how Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus would act. That opportunity soon arose. Our Reverend Mother requested demanding work fraught with countless difficulties, and I mischievously added to her workload. Yet, not once could I detect any fault in her. She remained graceful, cheerful, and unbothered by the effort. When it came to inconveniencing herself or serving others, she eagerly volunteered. Finally, unable to contain myself any longer, I threw myself into her arms and shared the emotions that had been stirring in my heart.

⁴ “How do you manage,” I said to her, “to practice virtue in this way, to be constantly joyful, calm and like yourself?

⁵ “I haven’t always done it this way,” she replied, “but since I never search for myself, I lead the happiest life anyone can see.”

23. #

¹ “At recess, more than anywhere else,” our angelic Mistress said, “you will find opportunities to practice virtue. If you wish to gain great spiritual benefit, do not go there with the intention of seeking your own enjoyment, but rather with the aim of bringing joy to others. Practice complete selflessness. For instance, if you are sharing a story with one of your sisters that you find interesting and she interrupts to tell you something else, listen to her with genuine interest, even if it does not engage you at all, and refrain from trying to return to your original conversation. By doing so, you will leave recess with deep inner peace and renewed strength to practice virtue, for you will not have sought your own satisfaction but the happiness of others. Oh, if only we knew the treasures we gain by renouncing ourselves in all things!”

² “You know that well. Is that how you’ve always done it?”

³ “Yes, I forgot myself. I tried not to look for myself in anything.”

24. #

¹ “We must practice mortification even in small things, such as responding immediately when someone rings our bell or knocks on our door, without delaying to finish what we are doing. I have practiced this myself, and I assure you, it brings peace.”

² Taking this advice to heart, I made a point of responding promptly whenever such moments arose. One day, during her illness, she observed me doing so and said:

³ “At the hour of death, you will be grateful for this! The action you just performed is more glorious than if, through great effort and skill, you had secured the favor of the government for religious communities, with all of France hailing you as a new Judith!”

25. #

¹ When asked how she sanctifies meals, she answered:

² “In the refectory, we have only one task—to perform this humble action with elevated thoughts. I admit to you that it is often in the refectory that the sweetest aspirations of love come to me. Sometimes, I have to pause, reflecting that if Our Lord were in my place, faced with the dishes served to me, he would certainly accept them. It is very likely that, during his earthly life, he tasted similar foods—he ate bread, fruit…”

³ “Here are my little, childlike thoughts:"

⁴ “I imagine myself in Nazareth, in the home of the Holy Family. If I am served, for instance, salad, cold fish, wine, or anything with a strong flavor, I offer it to good Saint Joseph. I give the warm dishes, ripe fruits, and similar items to the Blessed Virgin. As for the festive dishes, such as porridge, rice, or jams, I offer them to the Child Jesus. Finally, when I am served a poor meal, I cheerfully say to myself: ‘Today, my little one, this is all for you!’"

⁵ She thus hid her mortification from us under a graceful exterior. However, one day of fasting, when our Reverend Mother had imposed some relief on her, I surprised her seasoning this sweetness with absinthe, which was too much for her taste.

⁶ Another time, I saw her slowly drinking an unpleasant drink.

⁷ “But hurry up,” I said to her, “drink this all-in-one gulp!"

⁸ “Oh no! Should I not take advantage of the small opportunities that come my way to mortify myself a little, since I am forbidden to look for big ones?”

⁹ During her novitiate (I learned about this in the final months of her life), one of our sisters, while attempting to reattach her scapular, accidentally pierced her shoulder with a large pin. She endured the pain for several hours with joy.

¹⁰ On another occasion, she demonstrated her inner spirit of mortification. I had received a very interesting letter, which we read during recess while she was absent. In the evening, she expressed her desire to read it, and I gave it to her. Later, when she returned the letter, I asked her to share her thoughts about a particular part that must have delighted her. She appeared hesitant and finally replied:

¹¹ “The good Lord asked me to make the sacrifice because of the eagerness I showed the other day-I didn’t read it…"

26. #

¹ I spoke to her about the mortifications of the saints, she replied: “How wise Our Lord was to reassure us that there are many dwellings in His Father’s house! Otherwise, He would have told us… Yes, if all souls called to perfection were required to practice such severe mortifications to enter heaven, he would have made it known, and we would have embraced them wholeheartedly. But he tells us there are many dwellings in His house. If there are places for great souls—those of the desert fathers and the martyrs of penance—then there must also be a place for little children. Our place is reserved there if we love Him deeply, along with our heavenly Father and the Spirit of love.”

27. #

¹ “In the past, in the world, when I woke up in the morning, I thought about what was probably going to happen to me, happy or bad, during the day. If I only anticipated trouble, I got up sad. Now it’s quite the opposite: I think of the pain, the suffering that awaits me, and I rise all the more joyful and full of courage, as I foresee more opportunities to show my love to Jesus and to win the life of my children, since I am mother of souls. Then I kiss my crucifix, I place it delicately on the pillow while I get dressed and I say to it:

² “My Jesus, you have worked enough, cried enough, during the thirty-three years of your life on this poor earth! Today, rest… It’s my turn to fight and suffer.”

28. #

¹ One laundry day I went to the laundry room leisurely, looking casually at the flowers in the garden. Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus also went there, walking quickly. She soon came across me and said:

² “Is this how people hurry when they have children and are must work to provide them food?”

29. #

¹ “Do you know what my Sundays and feast days are?… These are the days when the good Lord tries me the most.”

30. #

¹ I was sorry for my lack of courage. My dear little sister said to me:

² “You complain about what should cause your greatest happiness. Where would your merit be if you had to fight only when you felt courageous? It doesn’t matter if you are not, as long as you act as if you are! If you find yourself too cowardly to pick up a piece of thread, and nevertheless do it for the love of Jesus, you have more merit than if you performed a much greater action in a moment of fervor. Instead of upsetting yourself, rejoice to see that by letting you feel your weakness, the good Jesus is giving you the opportunity to save a greater number of souls for Him!”

31. #

¹ I asked her if Our Lord was not displeased with me when he saw all my failings. She answered me:

² “Rest assured, the One you have taken as your Husband certainly has all the desirable perfections. But, if I dare say it, he has at the same time one great infirmity: he is blind! And there is a skill that he does not possess: addition! These two great faults, which would be very regrettable shortcomings in a mortal spouse, make ours infinitely lovable. If he could see clearly and know how to calculate, do you believe that, in the face of all our sins, he would not send us back into nothingness? But no, his love for us makes him positively blind!"

³ “If the greatest sinner on earth, repenting at the moment of death, dies in an act of love, God, without hesitation, overlooks the multitude of graces this unfortunate soul has rejected and all his past crimes. He focuses solely on the sinner’s final prayer and immediately welcomes him into the arms of His mercy. However, to blind Him in this way and stop Him from counting even the smallest offense, one must know how to touch His heart. That is His vulnerable side…”

32. #

¹ I had hurt her, and I was going to ask her forgiveness. She seemed very moved and said to me:

² “If only you knew what I feel! I have never understood so clearly the immense love with which Jesus welcomes us when we seek His forgiveness after a mistake. If I, His humble little creature, felt such deep tenderness for you the moment you returned to me, imagine what must happen in the heart of the good Lord when we turn back to Him! Surely, even more swiftly than I have just done, He will erase all our wrongdoings, never to recall them again. And He will do even more than that—He will love us even more deeply than before our fall!”

33. #

¹ I had an extreme fear of God’s judgments. Despite everything she could say to me, nothing could dispel it. One day I posed this objection to her: “We are constantly told that God finds spots in his angels, how can you expect me not to tremble?” Thérèse answered me:

² “There is only one way to force the good Lord not to judge us at all, and that is to appear before him empty-handed".

³ “What do you mean?”

⁴ “It’s quite simple: have nothing in reserve; give away your goods as you earn them. For me, if I live to be eighty, I will still be just as poor. I don’t know how to save money. Everything I have, I immediately spend to buy souls.”

⁵ “If I waited until the moment of death to offer my little coins for valuation, our Lord would not fail to discover some base metal there which would certainly have to be refined in purgatory. Is it not said that great saints, arriving at the tribunal of God with their hands laden with merit, sometimes go to the place of expiation, because all righteousness is defiled in the eyes of the Lord?"

⁶ “But, I continued, if God does not judge our good actions, he will judge our bad ones, and then?”

⁷ “What are you saying? Our Lord is Justice itself; if he does not judge our good deeds, he will not judge our bad ones. For the victims of love, it seems to me that there will be no judgment. Rather, the good Lord will quickly reward, with eternal delights, his own love which he will see burning in their hearts.”

⁸ “To enjoy this privilege, do you think it is enough to make the act of offering that you have composed?”

⁹ “Oh, no! Words are not enough… To be truly a victim of love, you must surrender completely. We are only consumed by love as much as we give ourselves over to love.”

34. #

¹ I bitterly repented of a mistake I had made. She tells me:

² “Take your crucifix and kiss it.” I kissed his feet.

³ “Is this how a child kisses her Father? Quickly, put your hands around his neck and kiss his face…" I obey.

⁴ “That’s not all-you have to have your caresses returned.” And I had to place the crucifix on each of my cheeks.

⁵ Then she said to me: “It’s good-now all is forgiven!”

35. #

¹ “When someone rebuked me,” I told her, “I would prefer to have deserved it than be wrongly accused."

² “I prefer to be wrongly accused because I have nothing to reproach myself for. I offer this to the good Lord with joy, then I humble myself with the thought that I would be capable of doing what I am accused of”.

³ “The more you advance, the fewer fights you will have; or rather, you will overcome more easily because you will see the bright side of things. Then your soul will rise above creatures. Anything you could tell me now would have no impact because I understand how unreliable human judgments are."

⁴ She added: “When we are misunderstood and judged unfavorably, what is the point of defending ourselves? Let’s leave it; let’s not say anything. It’s so sweet to let yourself be judged regardless! The Gospel does not say that Saint Magdalen explained herself when her sister accused her of sitting idly at the feet of Jesus. She did not say: ‘Martha! If you knew the happiness that I taste, if you heard the words that I hear, you too would leave everything to share my joy and my rest.’ No, she preferred to remain silent… O blessed silence which gives so much peace to the soul!”

36. #

¹ In a moment of temptation and struggle, I received this note from her:

² “‘The just man will correct me in mercy and rebuke me. But do not allow the oil of the sinner to perfume my head.’ I can only be broken and tested by the righteous, since all my sisters are pleasing to God. It is less bitter to be broken by a sinner than by a righteous person. But, out of compassion for sinners, to obtain their conversion, I ask you, O my God, to permit that I may be broken by the righteous souls who surround me. I also ask you that the oil of praise, so sweet to nature, will not perfume my head (which is to say, my spirit) by making me believe that I possess virtues when I have merely performed a few good actions.”

³ “O my Jesus! Your name is like spilled oil. It is in this divine perfume that I want to immerse myself entirely, far from the gaze of creatures.”

37. #

¹ “Wanting to persuade our sisters that they are in the wrong, even when it is perfectly true, is not fair play, since we are not responsible for their conduct. We must not be justices of peace, but only angels of peace.”

38. #

¹ She told us: “You devote yourself too much to what you do, you worry too much about your jobs, as if you were solely responsible for them. Are you concerned, at this moment, with what is happening in the other Carmels? If the nuns are in a hurry or not? Does their work prevent you from praying or giving oration? Well, you must likewise exile yourself from your personal work, using it conscientiously for the prescribed time, but with openness of heart."

² “I once read that the Israelites built the walls of Jerusalem, working with one hand and holding a sword in the other. This is the image of what we should do: work only with one hand and, with the other, defend our soul from overindulgence which prevents it uniting with the good God.”

39. #

¹ “One Sunday,” says Thérèse, “I was joyfully heading towards the avenue of chestnut trees. It was spring; I wanted to enjoy the beauties of nature. Alas! Cruel disappointment! We had pruned my dear chestnut trees. The branches, already loaded with green buds, were there, lying on the ground! Seeing this disaster, thinking that it would have to wait three years before seeing it repaired, my heart sank very hard. However, my anguish did not last long: “If I were in another monastery,” I thought, “what would it mean to me if the chestnut trees of the Carmel of Lisieux were completely cut down?" I no longer want to worry about passing things. My Beloved will take the place of everything for me. I want to walk constantly in the groves of his love, which no one can touch.”

40. #

¹ A novice asked several sisters to help her shake out the blankets, recommending, somewhat strongly, to be careful not to tear them, because they were quite worn. Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus said:

² “What would you do if you weren’t responsible for mending these blankets?… How detatched you would be! If you pointed out that they are easy to tear, it would be done in an impersonal way. In all your actions, you should avoid the slightest trace of self-centredness.”

41. #

¹ Seeing one of our sisters very tired, I said to my sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus: “I do not like to see suffering, especially in holy souls.” She immediately continued:

² “Oh, not me! I never feel sorry for suffering saints! I know that they have the strength to bear their sufferings and thereby give great glory to the good God. But those who are not saints, who do not know how to profit from their sufferings, oh how I pity them! They make me feel sorry for them! I would do everything I could to console and relieve them.”

42. #

¹ “If I were to live again, I would like the role of nurse the most. I wouldn’t want to ask him; but if it were imposed through obedience, I would consider myself very privileged. I think I would fill it with tender love, always thinking of what Our Lord said: ‘I was sick, and you visited me.’ The infirmary bell should be a heavenly melody to you. You would have to go under the windows of the sick on purpose to make it easier for them to call you and ask for assitance. Shouldn’t you think of yourself as a little slave that everyone has the right to command? If only you could see the Angels who, from heaven, watch you fight in the arena! They wait for the end of the struggle to shower you with flowers and wreaths. You know well that we claim to be little martyrs: it’s up to us to earn our palms!”

² “The good Lord does not despise these hidden and very meritorious battles: ‘The patient man is better than the strong man, and he who rules his soul is better than he who rules cities.’ Through our small acts of charity practiced in the shadows, we convert souls far away, we help missionaries and gain abundant alms for them. Through this, we build true spiritual and material homes for our Eucharistic Jesus.”

43. #

¹ I had seen our Mother speak preferably to one of our sisters and show her, it seemed to me, more trust and affection than to me. I was telling my grief to Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus, believing I would receive sympathetic condolences, when to my great surprise she said to me:

² “You think you love our Mother very much?"

³ “Certainly! If I didn’t love him, I wouldn’t care if he preferred others to me.”

⁴ “Well, I will prove to you that you are absolutely wrong: it is not our Mother that you love, it is yourself.”

⁵ “When we truly love, we rejoice in the happiness of the loved one, we make all the sacrifices to provide it for them. So, if you had this true and disinterested love, if you loved our Mother for herself, you would rejoice to see her finding pleasure at your expense; and, since you think that she gets less satisfaction from speaking with you than with another, you should not be distressed when she seems to you to be neglected.”

44. #

¹ I was sorry for the many distractions in my prayers:

² “I have a lot too,” she told me, “but as soon as I realize it, I pray for the people who occupy my imagination so that they benefit from my distractions."

³ “…I accept everything for the love of the good Lord, even the most extravagant thoughts that come to my mind.”

45. #

¹ I regretted giving away a pin that was very useful. Thérèse then said to me:

² “Oh! How rich you are! You will never be happy!”

46. #

¹ Being in charge of the hermitage of the Child Jesus, and knowing that perfumes bothered one of our Mothers, she always refrained from putting fragrant flowers there, even a small violet, which was material for real sacrifices.

² One day when she had just placed a beautiful artificial rose at the foot of the statue, our good Mother called her. Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus, guessing that it was to make her take the rose away, and not wanting to humiliate her, took the flower and, forestalling any thoughts, she said to her:

³ “See, Mother, how well we imitate nature today. Wouldn’t it look like this rose was just picked from the garden?”

47. #

¹ She said one day:

² “There are moments when you are so uncomfortable within that you have to get away from yourself. The good Lord does not then force us to stay at home. Often, he even allows our own company to be unpleasant for us so that we will leave it. I see no other way to leave our house than to go and visit Jesus and Mary, running to the works of charity.”

48. #

¹ “What does me good is picturing the inside of the Holy Family, imagining a completely ordinary life.”

² “The Holy Virgin and Saint Joseph knew full well that Jesus was God, but great wonders were nevertheless hidden from them. Like us, they lived by faith. Haven’t you noticed this verse from the sacred text: “They did not understand what he said to them”, and this verse, no less mysterious: “His parents were amazed about what was said about him”? Don’t you think that they were learning something? Because amazement requires a certain astonishment.”

49. #

¹ “In the Divine Office, there is a verse that I say reluctantly every day. It is this: “I have inclined my heart to fulfill your statutes for ever, for the reward."

² “Inwardly I quickly say: “O my Jesus, you know well that I do not serve you for the reward, but only because I love you and to save souls.”

50. #

¹ “Only in heaven will we see the absolute truth in all things. On earth, even in Holy Scripture, there is a dark and obscure side. I am saddened to see the difference in the translations. If I had been a priest, I would have learned Hebrew, in order to read the word of God as he deigned to express it in human language."

51. #

¹ She often spoke to me about a well-known toy that she played with as a child. It was a kaleidoscope-sort of asmall telescope-at the end of which we see pretty drawings in various colors. If we turn the instrument, these drawings vary infinitely.

² “This object,” she told me, “caused my admiration. I wondered what could produce such a charming phenomenon. When one day, after serious examination, I saw that they were simply a few little pieces of paper and wool thrown here and there and cut haphazardly. I continued my search and saw three ice creams inside the tube. I had the key to the problem.

³ “It was for me the image of a great mystery. As long as our actions, even the smallest, do not leave the focus of love, the Holy Trinity, represented by the three mirrors, gives them a reflection and an admirable beauty. Jesus, looking at us through the little telescope, which is to say through himself, finds our steps always beautiful. But, if we leave the ineffable center of love, what will we see? Straws… defiled actions of no value.”

52. #

¹ One day, I was telling Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus about the strange phenomena produced by magnetism on people who surrender their will to the hypnotiser. These details seemed to interest her greatly, and the next day she said to me:

² “Your conversation yesterday did me so much good! Oh! How I would like to be hypnotised by Our Lord! That was the first thought that came to me when I woke up. With what gentleness I surrendered my will to Him! Yes, I want him to take hold of my faculties, so that I no longer do human and personal actions, but actions that are entirely divine, inspired and directed by the Spirit of love.”

53. #

¹ Before my profession, I received a very special grace from my holy Mistress. We had washed all day, and I was broken with fatigue, overwhelmed with inner pain. The evening before prayer, I wanted to say a few words to her about it, but she replied:

² That was the bell for prayer. I have no time to console you. Besides, I clearly see that I would be useless trouble. The good Lord wants you to suffer alone for the moment.” I followed her to meditation so discouraged that, for the first time, I doubted my vocation. I should never be able to be a Carmelite! The life is too hard!

³ I had been on my knees for several minutes, in this fight and these sad thoughts, when suddenly, without having prayed, without even having desired peace, I felt in my soul a sudden, extraordinary change. I no longer recognized myself. My vocation appeared beautiful, lovable; I experience the charms, the price of suffering. All the hardship and fatigues of religious life seemed to me infinitely preferable to worldly satisfactions. Finally, I came out of the prayer absolutely transformed.

⁴ The next day, I told my sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus what had happened the day before. But she seemed very upset, so I wanted to know the cause.

⁵ She then said to me: “Ah! God is good! Last night, I felt such deep pity for you that I did not stop praying for you at the beginning of meditation, asking Our Lord to console you, to change your soul and to show you the price of suffering. He heard me!”

54. #

¹ As I am a child of character, little Jesus inspired me, to help me practice virtue, to have fun with him. I choose bowling. I represented them in all sizes and colors, in order to personify the souls I wanted to reach. The ball of the game was my love.

² In December 1896, the novices received, for the benefit of the missions, various trinkets for their Christmas tree. And now, by chance, there was found at the bottom of the enchanted box a very rare object in Carmel: a spinning top. My companions said: “How ugly! What good can this do?” I, who knew the game well, grabbed the top and exclaimed: “But it’s very fun! It could work for a whole day without stopping, with a good lash!” And thereupon I set about giving them a performance which astonished them.

³ Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus observed me without saying anything, and, on Christmas Day, after Midnight Mass, I found in our cell the famous top with this little letter, whose envelope was addressed:

⁴ To my darling little wife, BOWLING PLAYER on Carmel Mountain. Christmas night 1896.

⁵ MY DARLING LITTLE WIFE,

⁶ “Ah! How happy I am with you! All year long you amused me a lot by playing bowling. I had so much pleasure that the court of angels was surprised and delighted. Several little cherubs asked me why I didn’t make them children; others wanted to know if the melody of their instruments was not more pleasant as your joyful laughter, when you knock down a pin with the ball of your love. I replied to everyone that they should not be upset at not being children, since one day they would be able to play with you in the meadows of heaven; I told them that, certainly, your smile was sweeter to me than their melodies, because you could only play and smile while suffering and forgetting yourself.

⁷ My beloved little wife, I have something to ask you in turn. Are you going to refuse me?… Oh no, you love me too much for that! Well, I would like to change the game: bowling is fun for me, but now I would like to play a top; and, if you want, you will be my top. I’ll give you one as a model. You see that she has no external charms, anyone who does not know how to use them will push her away. But a child who sees it will jump for joy and say: Ah! How fun! It can work all day without stopping! …

⁸ I, little Jesus, love you, although you are without charm, and I beg you to always walk to amuse me. But, to make the top spin, you need whiplash! Well, let your sisters do you this service, and be grateful to those who are most diligent in speeding up your progress… When I have had fun with you, I will take you up there and we can play without suffering.”

⁹ Your little brother, JESUS.

55. #

¹ I used to cry continuously and over nothing, which caused her great pain.

² One day, a bright idea came to her: taking a mussel shell from her painting table and holding my hands to force me not to wipe my eyes. She began to collect my tears in this shell. Instead of continuing to cry, I couldn’t help but laugh.

³ “Come on,” she said to me, “from now on I’ll allow you to cry as much as you want, as long as it’s in your shell.”

⁴ Now, eight days before her death, I cried a whole evening thinking about her imminent departure. She noticed this and said to me:

⁵ “You cried-is it in the shell?"

⁶ I couldn’t lie… and my confession saddened her. She continued:

⁷ “I am going to die, and I will not be at peace on your account, if you do not promise to faithfully follow my recommendation. I attach great importance to it for your soul.”

⁸ I gave my word, asking however, as a grace, permission to freely mourn her death.

⁹ “Why mourn my death? These are very unnecessary tears- you will be crying over my happiness! Still, I pity your weakness and I allow you to cry for the first few days. But, after that, we will have to go back to the shell.”

¹⁰ I must say that I was faithful, although it cost me heroic efforts.

¹¹ When I wanted to cry, I courageously armed myself with the merciless instrument. However urgent the tears, the care I had to take in running from one eye to the other distracted my thoughts from what troubled me. This ingenious method did not take long to completely cure me of my too great sensitivity.

56. #

¹ I wanted to deprive myself of Holy Communion for a fault which had caused her a lot of pain, but which I had bitterly repented of. I wrote her my resolution. Here is the note she sent me back:

² “Little flower darling of Jesus, it is enough that, through the humiliation of your soul, your roots feed upon the earth… You must half open, or rather raise your head very high, so that the Bread of the Angels may, like a divine dew, strengthen you and give you everything you lack. Good-night, poor little girl! Ask Jesus that all the prayers that are said for my healing serve to increase the fire that must consume me."

57. #

¹ “At the time of taking communion, I sometimes imagine my soul in the form of a little baby of three or four years old who, from playing so much, has messy hair and dirty, untidy clothes. These mishaps happened to me when struggling with souls. But soon the Virgin Mary rushes around me. She quickly takes off my little dirty apron, ties up my hair and adorns it with a pretty ribbon or simply a little flower… And that is enough to make me graceful and make me sit down without blushing at the angelic feast.”

58. #

¹ In the infirmary, we barely waited until her thanksgiving was over to speak to her and ask for her advice. She was saddened at first and gently reproached us. Then soon she let us do it, saying:

² “I should not desire more rest than Our Lord. When he fled to the desert after his preaching, the people immediately came to disturb his solitude. Come as close to me as you want. I must die with weapons in my hand, having in my mouth the sword of the Spirit which is the word of God.”

59. #

¹ “Give us some advice for our spiritual directions. How should we do them?"

² “With great simplicity, without relying too much on help that may fail you at any moment. Otherwise, you would quickly be forced to say with the bride of Canticles: “The guards took off my coat, they injured me; and it was only by EXCEEDING them a little that I found the One I love!” If you ask humbly and without attachment where your Beloved is, the guards will tell you. However, more often than not, you will find Jesus only after you have passed every creature. How many times, for my part, have I not repeated this stanza from the Spiritual Canticle:

³ Do not send me
any more messengers
Who cannot tell me what I want.
………..
All those who take care of you, without exception,
continually speak to Me of your thousand graces
And all of them hurt me even more;
And above all what makes me die
IT’S SOMETHING THEY ONLY STAMMER ABOUT.”

60. #

¹ “If, by some impossibility, the good Lord himself did not see my good deeds, I would not be distressed. I love him so much that I wish I could please him without him knowing it’s me. When he sees the gift being made, he is, as it were, obliged to reward it… I would not want to give him this trouble.”

61. #

¹ “If I had been rich, I would not have been able to see a poor person hungry without giving him something to eat. I do this in my spiritual life: as I gain something, knowing that souls are about to fall into hell, I give them my treasures. I have not yet had a moment where I’ve said to myself: “Now I am going to work for me."

62. #

¹ “There are people who hurt themselves by making the worst of everything. On the contrary, I always see the bright side of things. If I only have pure suffering, without any consolation, well, I make it my joy."

63. #

¹ “Everything given to me by the good Lord pleased me, even the things that seemed less good or beautiful than what was given to others.”

64. #

¹ “When I was at my aunt’s house when I was very little, I was given a beautiful book. While reading a story, I saw that a schoolmistress recieved a lot of praise because she knew how to tactfully get out of trouble without hurting anyone’s feelings. I especially noticed this sentence: ‘She said to this one: You are not wrong; to this one: You are right’. Whilst reading it, I thought: ‘Oh! I wouldn’t have done that. You always have to tell the truth.’”

² “I still do the same. I have much more trouble, it is true, because it would be so easy, when someone comes to tell you about a problem, to blame those who aren’t there. Immediately, the one who complains would be satisfied. Yes, but… I do the opposite. If I’m not loved, then too bad! Don’t try and find me if you don’t want to hear the truth."

³ “For a rebuke to bear fruit, it must cost you something. It must be done dispassionately."

⁴ “Goodness must not be reduced to weakness. When we have rightly admonished someone, we must leave it there and not allow ourselves to be softened, tormenting ourselves for having caused pain. Running after them to console them does more harm than good. Leaving her to herself teaches her to rely on the good Lord, not humans, and to recognise her faults and humble herself. Otherwise, she will get used to being comforted after a well-deserved rebuke, and she would act like a spoiled child who stamps and screams, knowing full well that she will make her mother come back to wipe away her tears.”

⁵ “‘May the sword of the Spirit which is the word of God’ always be in your mouth and in your hearts. If we find a person disagreeable, do not be put off or give up. Let us always have “the sword of the spirit” to rebuke her for her wrongs. Do not let things go just to make things easier for ourselves. Let us fight tirelessly, even when there’s no hope of victory. What does success matter! Keep going, however tiring the struggle. Don’t say: “I will get nothing from this soul, it does not understand. I give up!” Oh! That would be cowardice! You must do your duty to the end.”

65. #

¹ “In the past, if someone in my family was in pain, and in the visiting room I hadn’t had chance to comfort them, I left with a broken heart. Jesus soon made me understand that I was incapable of comforting a soul. From then, I no longer felt sorrow when we went away sad. I entrusted to the good Lord the sufferings of those who were dear to me, and I felt assured that I had been heard. I recieved confirmation of this the next time we visited. Since this experience, whenever I accidentally upset someone, I do not worry: I simply ask Jesus to fix what I have done.”

66. #

¹ “What are your thoughts on all the graces you have received?”

² “I think the Spirit of God blows where it wills.”

67. #

¹ She said to her Mother Prioress:

² “My Mother, if I were unfaithful, if I committed even the slightest sin, I feel that it would be followed by terrible troubles, and I would no longer be able to accept death.”

³ And as the Mother Prioress expressed her surprise at hearing her use this language, she continued:

⁴ “I’m talking about a sin of pride. For example, if I said: “I have acquired this or that virtue, I can practice it”; or: “O my God, I love you too much, you know, to stop at a single thought against the faith”; immediately, I feel that I would be assailed by the most dangerous temptations, and I would certainly succumb to them. To avoid this misfortune, I only have to say humbly from the bottom of my heart: “O my God, please do not allow me to be unfaithful!”

⁵ “I understand very well why Saint Peter fell. He relied too much on the strength of his feelings instead of relying solely on divine strength. I am very sure that if he had said to Jesus: “Lord, give me the courage to follow you in death,” this courage would have been given to him.

⁶ “My Mother, why did Our Lord, knowing what was going to happen, not say to him: “Ask me for the strength to accomplish what you want”? I believe that it was to show us two things. Firstly, that he taught his Apostles nothing more by his sensitive presence than what he teaches us by the good inspirations of his grace. Secondly, intending Saint Peter to govern the whole Church where there are so many sinners, he wanted him to experience for himself what man can do without the help of God. This is why, before his fall, Jesus said to him: “When you have turned back, strengthen your brothers”. Or in other words: ‘Tell them the story of your sin. Show them through your own experience how necessary it is, for salvation, to rely only on me.’”

68. #

¹ I was very sad to see her ill and I often repeated to her: “Oh! How sad life is!” But she immediately corrected me, saying:

² “Life is not sad! On the contrary, it is very happy. If you said: ‘Exile is sad,’ I would understand. It is a mistake to call things that must end ’life’. It is only the joys of heaven, which never die, that can be called ’life’. Since we enjoy them in this world too, life is not sad, but happy, very happy!"

³ She herself was delightfully cheerful. For several days she had been doing much better. We said to her: “We do not yet know what disease you will die of" …

⁴ “But I will die! Didn’t the good Lord tell Adam what he would die of? He said to him: ‘You will die a death!’”

⁵ “Well, then it’s death that will come and get you!”

⁶ “No, it’s not death that will come and get me, it’s the good Lord. Death is not a ghost, or some horrible specter as is commonly presented. It is written in the catechism that death is the separation of the soul and the body-it is just that! Well, I am not afraid of a separation which will reunite me forever with the good Lord.”

⁷ “Will the divine Thief soon come and steal his little bunch of grapes?

⁸ “I see him from afar and I am careful not to shout: ‘Stop! Thief!!!’ On the contrary, I call him saying: ‘This way! This way!’”

69. #

¹ I told her that the most beautiful angels, dressed in white robes, with joyful and resplendent faces, would carry her soul to heaven. She answered me:

² “Those sort of fancies do not help me. I can only feed on the truth. God and angels are pure spirits; no one can see them with bodily eyes as they really are. This is why I have never desired extraordinary graces. I prefer to wait for the eternal vision."

³ “I asked the good Lord to send me a lovely dream to console me for your departure.”

⁴ “Ah! This is something I would never have done-ask for consolations! … Since you want to be like me, you know very well that I say: ‘Oh! Do not fear, Lord, that I will wake you. I wait in peace for the shores of heaven…’ It is so sweet to serve the good Lord in the dark night and in trials-we only have this life to live by faith.”

70. #

¹ “I am very happy to go to heaven, but when I think of these words of the Lord: “I will come quickly and I will carry my reward with me, to reward each one according to his works”, I tell myself that he will be very embarrassed for me as I have no works… Well! He will reward me ACCORDING TO HIS WORKS!”

71. #

¹ “Certainly, you will not spend a minute in purgatory, or else no one goes straight to heaven!

² “Oh, I don’t worry much about that! I will always be happy with the good Lord’s decision. If I go to purgatory, well, I will walk among the flames, like the three Hebrews in the furnace, singing the songs of love.”

72. #

¹ “You will be placed in heaven among the seraphim.”

² “If so, I will not imitate them. At the sight of God they cover themselves with their wings. I will be careful not to cover myself with mine!”

73. #

¹ I showed her a photograph of Joan of Arc being comforted in prison by her voices. She tells me:

² “I too am comforted by an inner voice. From above, the saints encourage me, they tell me: “As long as you are in chains, you cannot fulfill your mission. But later, after your death, it will be the time of your conquests.”

74. #

¹ “The good Lord will do all that I will in heaven because I never sought my will on earth.”

75. #

¹ “You will look down on us from heaven, won’t you?’

² “No, I’ll come down.”

76. #

¹ Let us share this touching story again:

² A few months before the death of Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus, we were reading the life of Saint Louis de Gonzague in the refectory. Our good Mother Hermance of the Heart of Jesus was struck by the touching and mutual affection of the young saint and a venerable religious of the Society of Jesus: Father Corbinelli.

³ “You are little Louis,” she said to our saintly little sister Thérèse, “and I am old Father Corbinelli. When you are in heaven, remember me”.

⁴ “Would you like me, Mother, to come and get you soon?”

⁵ “No, I haven’t suffered enough yet.”

⁶ “O my Mother, I tell you that you have suffered enough.”

⁷ And Mother Hermance of the Heart of Jesus responded: “I still don’t dare say yes to you… For something so serious, I need the permission of the authority.”

⁸ In fact, the request was addressed to the Mother Prioress. Without attaching importance to it, she granted it.

⁹ On one of the last days of her life, Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus, barely able to speak due to her great weakness, received, through the nurse, a bouquet of flowers. It had been picked by our dear Mother Hermance, and was accompanied by note from her, requesting one word of affection from Thérèse. This is the word that she sent back:

¹⁰ “Tell Mother of the Heart of Jesus that this morning, during mass, I saw the grave of Father Corbinelli very close to that of little Louis.”

¹¹ “That’s good,” replied our good Mother, very moved, “tell Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus that I understand…”

¹² From that moment on, she remained convinced of her imminent death, which happened only a year later. And, following little Louis’ prediction, the two graves lay side by side.

Chapter 14 #

Additional Words of Thérèse #

1. #

¹ I intend not to remain inactive in Heaven: my desire is to continue working for the Church and souls; I ask God and I am sure that he will hear me.

² Act of offering myself, as a victim of holocaust to the merciful Love of the good God.

³ This writing was found, after the death of Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus, in the book of the holy Gospels which she carried day and night on her heart.

2. #

¹ O my God, blessed Trinity, I desire to love you and make you loved, to work for the glorification of the holy Church, by saving the souls who are on earth and delivering those who suffer in Purgatory. I desire to accomplish your will perfectly and arrive at the degree of glory that you have prepared for me in your kingdom. In a word, I desire to be holy. But I feel my powerlessness. So I ask you, O my God, to be my holiness yourself.

² Since you loved me to the point of giving me your only Son to be my Savior and my Spouse, the infinite treasures of his merits are mine. I offer them to you with joy, begging you to look at me only through the Face of Jesus and in his Heart, burning with love.

³ I also offer you all the merits of the Saints who are in heaven and on earth, their acts of love and those of the holy Angels. Finally, I offer you, O blessed Trinity, the love and merits of the Blessed Virgin, my dear Mother. It is to her that I leave my offering, begging her to present it to you.

⁴ Her divine Son, my beloved Spouse, in the days of his mortal life, said to us: “Whatever you ask of my Father in my name, he will give it to you." I am therefore certain that you will grant my desires… I know, O my God, the more you want to give, the more you make us desire.

⁵ I feel immense desires in my heart, and it is with confidence that I ask you to come and take possession of my soul. Ah! I cannot receive Holy Communion as often as I wish. But, Lord, are you not Almighty? Stay in me as in the Tabernacle, never move away from your little host.

⁶ I would like to console you for the ingratitude of the wicked, and I beg you to take away my freedom to displease you. If through weakness I sometimes fall, may your divine gaze immediately purify my soul, consuming all my imperfections, like the fire that transforms everything into itself.

⁷ I thank you, O my God, for all the graces you have granted me: in particular for having made me go through the crucible of suffering. It is with joy that I will contemplate you on the last day, carrying the scepter of the cross. Since you have deigned to share this precious cross with me, I hope in heaven to resemble you, and to see the sacred stigmata of your passion shine on my glorified body.

⁸ After exile from the earth, I hope to go and enjoy you in the homeland. But I do not want to amass merits for heaven; I want to work for your love alone, with the sole aim of pleasing you, of consoling your sacred Heart, and of saving souls who will love you eternally.

⁹ At the evening of this life, I will appear before you empty-handed. I do not ask you, Lord, to count my works… All our justice is blemished in your eyes! I therefore want to clothe myself in your Justice and receive from your love the eternal possession of yourself. I want no other throne and no other crown than you, O my Beloved!

¹⁰ In your eyes, time is nothing; a single day is like a thousand years. You can therefore makes us ready to appear before you instantly.

¹¹ In order to live in an act of perfect love, I OFFER MYSELF AS A SACRIFICIAL VICTIM TO YOUR MERCIFUL LOVE, begging you to consume me unendingly, allowing the floods of infinite tenderness within you to overflow into my soul, so that I may become a martyr of your love, O my God!

¹² May this martyrdom, after having prepared me to appear before you, finally cause me to die, and may my soul, without delay, rush forth into the eternal embrace of your merciful love!

¹³ I want, O my Beloved, with each beat of my heart, to renew this offering to you an infinite number of times, “until the shadows flee”, and I can forever exclaim my love for you, face to face!!! …

¹⁴ MARIE-FRANÇOISE-THÉRÈSE OF THE CHILD JESUS AND THE HOLY FACE, Feast of the Most Holy Trinity, June 9, in the year of Our Lord 1895.

3. #

¹ Consecration to the Holy Face.
(Composed for the novitiate.)

² O adorable Face of Jesus! Since you have deigned in particular to give yourself to our souls, we have come to consecrate our souls to you.

³ It seems to us, O Jesus, to hear you say to us: “Open to me, my sisters, my beloved spouses, for my face is covered with dew, and my hair is damp with the drops of the night." Our souls understand your language of love. We want to wipe your sweet Face and console you for the forgetfulness of the wicked. In their eyes, you are still “as if hidden… they consider you an object of contempt!"

⁴ O Face more beautiful than the lilies and roses of spring, you are not hidden from our eyes! The tears that veil your divine gaze appear to us like precious diamonds that we want to collect, in order to purchase, with their infinite value, the souls of our brothers.

⁵ From your beloved mouth we have heard the loving complaint. Understanding that The thirst that consumes you is a thirst for love. To quench your thirst, we would like to possess infinite love!

⁶ Beloved Spouse of our souls! If we had the love of all hearts, this love would be yours… Well, give us this love, and come and quench your thirst in your little wives.

⁷ Souls, Lord, we need souls! Especially the souls of apostles and martyrs, so that, through them, we may inflame the multitude of poor sinners with your love.

⁸ O adorable Face, we will know how to obtain this grace from you! Forgetting our exile, on the banks of the rivers of Babylon, we will sing the sweetest melodies in your ears. Since you are the true and only homeland for our souls, our songs will not be sung in a foreign land.

⁹ O dear Face of Jesus! While waiting for the eternal day when we will contemplate your infinite glory, our only desire is to charm your divine eyes by also hiding our face, so that here below no one can recognize us… Your veiled gaze is our heaven, oh Jesus!

4. #

September 8, 1897

¹ O Mary, if I were the Queen of Heaven and if you were Thérèse, I would like to be Thérèse to see you the Queen of Heaven! Last lines written by St Thérèse of the Child Jesus.

Chapter 15 #

Prayers #

1. #

¹ Eternal Father, your only Son, the sweet Child Jesus is mine, since you gave him to me. I offer you the infinite merits of his divine Childhood, and I ask you, in his name, to call to the joys of Heaven countless armies of little children who will eternally follow this divine Lamb.

2. #

¹ Eternal Father, since you have given me as my inheritance the adorable Face of your divine Son, I offer it to you and ask you, in exchange for this infinitely precious Piece, to forget the ingratitude’s of the souls consecrated to you and to forgive to poor sinners.

3. #

Prayer to the Child Jesus.

¹ O little Child Jesus! My only treasure, I abandon myself to your divine whims. I want no other joy than making you smile. Imprint in me your graces and your childish virtues, so that on the day of my birth in heaven, the Angels and the Saints recognize in your little wife: THÉRÈSE OF THE CHILD JESUS.

4. #

Prayer to the Holy Face.

¹ O adorable Face of Jesus, the only beauty that delights my heart, deign to imprint in me your divine likeness, so that you cannot look at the soul of your little spouse without seeing yourself. O my Beloved, in exchange for your love, I accept not seeing here below the sweetness of your gaze, the feeling of the inexpressible kiss of your mouth. But I beg you to set me on fire with your love, so that it consumes me quickly and soon makes appear before you: THÉRÈSE OF THE HOLY FACE.

5. #

Prayer inspired by an image of Blessed Joan of Arc.

¹ Lord, God of hosts, who told us in your Gospel: “I did not come to bring peace but the sword”, arm me for the fight. I burn to fight for your glory. But I beg you, strengthen my courage… Then, with the holy King David, I will be able to cry: “It is you alone who are my shield; it is you, Lord, who train my hands for war."

² O my Beloved! I understand what battles you are destining me for. It is not on the open field that I will fight… I am a prisoner of your love. I have freely fastened the chain which unites me to you and separates me forever from the world. My sword is LOVE! With it I will expel the stranger from the kingdom, I will have you proclaimed King in souls.

³ Without doubt, Lord, you do not need an instrument as weak as me. But Joan, your virginal and valiant wife, said it: “We must fight for God to give the victory." O my Jesus, I will therefore fight for your love until the evening of my life. Since you did not want to enjoy rest on earth, I want to follow your example. Then this promise, that fell from your divine lips, will come true for me: “If anyone serves me, let him follow me, and wherever I am, he will also be there, and my Father will exalt him in honor." To be with you, to be in you, that is my only desire. Your assurance that this will happen helps me endure exile, while waiting for the radiant day of eternal face to face.

6. #

¹ Prayer for humility.
(Composed for a novice.)

² O Jesus, when you were a traveler on earth, you said: “Learn from me that I am meek and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." Mighty King of Heaven, yes, my soul finds rest in seeing you, clothed in the form and nature of a slave, humbled to the point of washing the feet of your apostles. I then remember these words that you spoke, to teach me to practice humility: “I gave you an example, so that you yourself might do what I did. The disciple is not greater than the Master… If you understand this, you will be happy practicing it." I understand them, Lord, these words coming from your gentle and humble Heart, I want to practice them, with the help of your grace.

³ I want to humble myself and submit my will to that of my sisters, without contradicting them in any way, and without investigating whether or not they have the right to command me. O my Beloved, no one had this right towards you, and yet you obeyed, not only the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph, but also your executioners. Now it is in the Host that I see the pinnacle of your condescension. With what humility, O divine King of glory, you submit to all your priests, without making any distinction between those who love you and those who are (alas!) lukewarm or cold in your service. Regardless of the time they choose for the holy Sacrifice, you are always ready to come down from heaven at their call.

⁴ O my Beloved, under the veil of the white Host, how gentle and humble of heart you appear to me! To teach me humility, you couldn’t have lowered yourself any further. I want to respond to your love by placing myself last, sharing your humiliations, in order to “have a share with you” in the kingdom of Heaven.

⁵ I beg you, my divine Jesus, everytime I try to elevate myself above others, to send me humiliation.

⁶ But Lord, you know my weakness. Every morning I resolve to practice humility. But by the evening, I recognize that I have still committed many mistakes of pride. This tempts me to become discouraged. But, I know discouragement is also pride. Therefore, O my God, I want to base my hope on you alone. Since you can do everything, deign to give birth in my soul the virtue that I desire. To obtain this grace of your infinite mercy, I will often repeat to you:

⁷ “Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like yours."

7. #

The Holy Face Of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

¹ In your cruel Passion, O Jesus, you became “the reproach of men and the man of sorrows”, I revere your divine Face, on which shone the beauty and sweetness of divinity, now become for me “like the face of a leper!” But beneath these disfigured features, I recognize your infinite love, and I am consumed with the desire to love you and to make you loved by all men. The tears that flowed so abundantly from your eyes appear to me like precious pearls that I want to collect, in order to purchase, with their infinite value, the souls of poor sinners.

² O Jesus, your Face is the only beauty that delights my heart. I accept not seeing here below the sweetness of your gaze, or feeling the inexpressible kiss of your mouth. But I beg you to place your divine likeness on me, and to inflame me with your love so that it consumes me quickly-so I soon see your glorious Face in Heaven! So be it.

Chapter 16 #

Letters #

To Céline #

“He who teaches his brother righteousness will shine like the sun forever and ever.” - Daniel 12:3.

1. #

Jesus. JMJT May 8, 1888.

¹ MY DARLING CÉLINE,

² There are times when I wonder if it is really true that I am in Carmel. sometimes I can’t believe it! What have I done to the good Lord to make him fill me with so many graces?

³ We’ve been separated for a month already! But why say separate? If the ocean was between us, our souls would remain united. However, I know you suffer from no longer having me, and if I listened to myself, I would ask Jesus to give me your sadness. But you see, I don’t listen to myself; I would be afraid of being selfish, wanting the best part for myself-that is to say, suffering.

⁴ You are right, life is often heavy and bitter. It is painful to begin a day of work, especially when Jesus hides from our love. What is this sweet Friend doing? He therefore does not see our anguish, the weight that oppresses us, where is he? Why doesn’t he come to console us?

⁵ Céline, don’t be afraid; he is there, very close to us! He looks at us. It is he who begs us for this pain, these tears… he needs them for souls, for our souls. He wants to give us such a great reward! Ah! I assure you that it costs him to fill us with bitterness. But he knows that it is the only way to prepare us to know him as he knows himself, to become gods ourselves! Oh! What a destiny! How great is our soul! Let us rise above what passes. Let us keep our distance from the earth. Higher up, the air is so pure! Jesus can hide, but we can find him…

2. #

October 20, 1888.

¹ DEAR SISTER

² Don’t let your helplessness distress you. In the morning, when we feel no courage or strength to practice virtue, it is a grace. It is the time to put the axe to the root of the tree, relying on Jesus alone. If we fall, everything is fixed in an act of love, and Jesus smiles! He helps us without seeming to do so. And the tears that the wicked make him shed are wiped away by our poor and weak love. Love can do anything; the most impossible things seem easy and sweet to him. You know well that Our Lord does not look so much at the greatness of actions, or even at their difficulty, but at the love with which we accomplish them. What do we have to fear?

³ You would like to become a saint, and you ask me if that is too daring. Céline, I will not tell you to aim for the seraphic holiness of the most privileged souls, but to be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect. So, you see that your dream, that our dreams and our desires are not impossible, since Jesus himself commanded it.

3. #

January 1889.

¹ MY DEAR LITTLE CÉLINE,

² Jesus presents you with the cross, a very heavy cross! And you are afraid that you cannot carry this cross without tiring. Why? Our Beloved, on the road to Calvary, fell three times, why should we not imitate our Spouse?

³ What a privilege of Jesus! How he loves us to send us such great pain! Ah! Eternity will not be long enough to bless him with it. He showers us with his favors, as he showered the greatest saints. What then are his loving plans for our souls? This is a secret that will only be revealed to us in our homeland, the day when the Lord will wipe away all our tears.

⁴ Now we have nothing left to hope for on earth. The cool mornings are gone, all we have left is suffering! Oh! What a fate worthy of envy! The Seraphim in the heavens are jealous of our happiness.

⁵ I recently came across these striking words: “To be resigned and to be united to the will of God are not the same. There is the same difference between them as that which exists between union and unity. In union there are still two, in unity there is but one.”

⁶ Oh! Yes, let us be one with God, even from this world. And for this let us be more than resigned: let us embrace the cross with joy.

4. #

February 28, 1889.

¹ MY DEAR LITTLE SISTER,

² Jesus is a Bridegroom of blood. He wants all the blood of our hearts for himself! You’re right, it costs money to give him what he asks for. And what joy it costs! What joy to bear our crosses weakly!

³ Céline, far from complaining to Our Lord about this cross that He sends us, I cannot understand the infinite love that led Him to treat us like this. Our father must be well loved by God to have to suffer so much! What delights to be humiliated with him! Humiliation is the only way that saints are made, I know it. I also know that our event is a gold mine to be exploited. I, little grain of sand, want to get to work, without courage, without strength. This very impotence will make the enterprise easier for me-I want to work for love. It is the martyrdom that begins… Together, my darling sister, let us enter the lists. Let us offer our sufferings to Jesus to save souls…

5. #

March 12, 1889.

¹ … Céline, I need to forget the earth; here below everything tires me. I only find one joy-that of suffering… This unfelt joy is above all other joys. Life passes, eternity advances. Soon we will live the very life of God. After having been drunk at the source of bitterness, we will be quenched at the very source of all sweetness.

² Yes, “the form of this world passes away”. Soon we will see new skies. A more radiant sun will illuminate with splendors ethereal seas and infinite horizons… We will no longer be prisoners in a land of exile, everything will have passed! With our heavenly Spouse, we will sail on shoreless lakes. Our harps hang from the willows that border the river of Babylon. But on the day of our deliverance, what harmonies will we make heard! With what joy we will make all the strings of our instruments vibrate! But today we shed tears remembering Zion, how could we sing the songs of the Lord in a strange land?

³ Our chorus is the song of suffering. Jesus presents us with a very bitter chalice; let us not withdraw our lips from it, let us suffer in peace! Who says peace does not say joy, or at least felt joy. To suffer in peace, it is enough to be willing to do whatever Our Lord wants.

⁴ Let’s not believe we can find love without suffering. Our nature remains and must be taken into account; but it puts great treasures within our reach! This is our livelihood. Suffering is so precious that Jesus came down to earth just to possess it. We would like to suffer generously, greatly; we would like to never fall… what an illusion! What does it matter to me that I fall every moment! I feel my weakness in this, and I find great benefit in it. My God, you see what I can do if you do not carry me in your arms. If you choose to leave me alone, well, it’s because you like to see me on the ground! Why worry then?

⁵ If you want to bear in peace the ordeal of not pleasing yourself, you will give the divine Master a sweet home. It is true that you will suffer because you will be like a stranger in your own home. But do not be afraid. The poorer you are, the more Jesus will love you. I know very well that he would rather see you hit the stones of the road in the night than walk in broad daylight on a road studded with flowers, because these flowers could delay your progress.

6. #

July 14, 1889.

¹ DEAR SISTER,

² My soul does not leave you. Oh! Yes, it’s very hard to live on this earth! But tomorrow, in an hour, we will be at the port! My God, what will we see then? What is this life which will have no end? … The Lord will be the soul of our soul. Unfathomable mystery! The eye of man has not seen the uncreated light, his ear has not heard the incomparable melodies of the heavens, and his heart cannot understand what is in store for him in the future. And all this will come soon! Yes, soon, if we love Jesus with passion.

³ It seems to me that the good Lord does not need years to do his work of love in a soul. A ray from his Heart can, in an instant, make his flower bloom for eternity… Céline, during the short moments that remain to us, let us save souls. I feel that our Spouse is asking us for souls, the souls of priests, above all… It is he who wants me to tell you this.

⁴ There is only one thing to do here on earth: love Jesus and save souls for him so that he can be loved. Let us be jealous of the slightest opportunity to delight him. Let us refuse him nothing. He needs love so much!

⁵ We are his favorite lilies-he resides in our midst. He resides there as a King, and shares with us the honors of his royalty: his divine Blood waters our petals and its thorns, in tearing us, releases the perfume of our love.

7. #

October 22, 1889.

¹ MY DARLING CÉLINE,

² I am sending you an image of the Holy Face. I find that this divine subject suits so perfectly the true little sister of my soul… Oh! Let her be another Veronica! May she wipe away all the blood and tears of Jesus, her only Beloved! May she give him souls! Let her open a path through the soldiers, which is to say the world, to reach him! … Oh! That she will be happy when she one day sees, in glory, the value of this mysterious beverage with which she will have quenched the thirst of her celestial Bridegroom. When she sees his lips, once parched by burning thirst, speaking to her the unique and eternal word of LOVE! The thank you that will never end…

³ See you soon, little Veronica darling. Tomorrow, no doubt, the beloved will ask you for a new sacrifice, a new relief to his thirst… but “let’s go and die with him!”

8. #

July 18, 1890.

¹ MY DEAR LITTLE SISTER,

² I am sending you a passage from Isaiah which will comfort you. See, it was so long ago! And already the soul of the prophet was immersed like ours in the hidden beauties of the divine Face… Centuries ago! Ah! I wonder what time is. Time is only a mirage, a dream. God already sees us in glory, he enjoys our eternal bliss. This thought does so much good for my soul! I understand then why he lets us suffer…

³ Well, since our Beloved has “trodden the wine-press alone,” the wine-press from which he gives us something to drink, then for our part, let us not refuse to wear clothes dyed with blood. Let us tread for Jesus a new wine which quenches his thirst, and, when “he looks around him,” he will no longer be able to say that “he is alone”—we will be there to help Him.

⁴ His face was hidden. Alas, he is still hidden today! No one understands his tears… “Open to me, my sister, my wife,” he said to us, “for my head is full of dew, and my hair is damp with the drops of the night.” Yes, this is what Jesus says to our soul when he is abandoned, forgotten… It seems to me that forgetting is what causes him the most pain.

⁵ And our darling father! Ah! My heart is torn. But how can we complain, since Our Lord himself was considered a man struck by God and humiliated? In this great pain, let us forget ourselves. And pray for the priests; may our lives be dedicated to them. The divine Master makes me feel more and more that he wants this from both of us…

9. #

Tuesday, September 23, 1890.

¹ O Céline, how can I tell you what is happening in my soul?… What a wound! But I feel that it is made by a friendly hand, by a divinely jealous hand! …

² Everything was ready for my wedding. However, don’t you think that something was missing from the party? It is true that Jesus had already put many jewels in my basket, but one was undoubtedly needed, of incomparable beauty, and this precious diamond, Jesus gave it to me today… Dad does not want to come tomorrow! Céline, I admit it to you, my tears flowed… they are still flowing while I write to you. I can barely hold my pen.

³ You know how much I wanted to see our dear Father again. Well! Now, I feel that it is the will of the good Lord that he is not at my party. He allowed this simply to test our love… Jesus wants me to be an orphan, he wants me to be alone, with Him alone, to unite himself more intimately with me. He also wants to give me back, in the Fatherland, the joys so legitimate that he refused me in exile.

⁴ Today’s ordeal is a pain that is difficult to understand. A joy was offered to us, one most natural and easy to attain… but we cannot grasp this much-desired consolation! But It was not a human hand that did this, it was Jesus! Céline, understand your Thérèse! And let us both cheerfully accept the thorn presented to us. Tomorrow’s feast will be a feast of tears for us, but I feel that Jesus will be so consoled! …

10. #

October 14, 1890.

¹ DEAR SISTER,

² I understand everything you suffer. I understand your heartbreaks and I share them. Ah! If I could communicate to you the peace that Jesus put in my soul at the height of my tears… Console yourself! Everything goes! Our former life has passed. Death will also pass, and then we will enjoy life, true life, for millions of centuries, forever!

³ In the meantime, let’s make our hearts a bed of delights where our sweet Savior comes to rest… Let us plant only lilies there, and then let us sing with Saint John of the Cross:

⁴ With my face bowed to my Beloved, I remained there and forgot myself; Everything disappeared for me and I abandoned myself, Leaving all my concerns Lost among the lilies.

11. #

April 26, 1891.

¹ MY DEAR LITTLE SISTER,

² Three years ago, our souls had not yet been broken, happiness smiled upon us here below. But Jesus looked at us, and this look changed for us into an ocean of tears, but also into an ocean of graces and love. The good Lord has taken from us the one we loved with such great tenderness. Is it not so that we can truly say: “Our Father who is in heaven”? How consoling is this divine word, and what vast horizons it opens before us!

³ My darling Céline, you who asked me so many questions when you were little, I wonder how you never asked me this one: “Why didn’t the good Lord create me an angel?” Well, I will answer you anyway: The Lord wants to have his court here below as well as up there. He wants angel-martyrs, angel-apostles. If he did not create you an angel from heaven, it is because he wants you to be an angel from earth, so that you can suffer for his love.

⁴ Céline, my darling sister! The shadows will soon be dissipated, the harsh frosts of winter will be followed by the rays of the eternal sun… soon we will be in our native land. Soon the joys of our childhood, the Sunday evenings, the intimate outpourings, will be returned to us forever!

12. #

August 15, 1892.

¹ MY DEAR LITTLE SISTER,

² To write to you today, I am obliged to steal a few moments from Our Lord. He won’t blame me, because it’s him we’re going to talk about together.

³ Celine! The vast solitudes, the enchanting horizons that open before you in the beautiful countryside that you inhabit, must greatly elevate your soul. I don’t see all this; I am content to say with Saint John of the Cross in his Spiritual Canticle:

⁴ I have in my Beloved the mountains,
The solitary and wooded valleys…

⁵ Lately, I have been thinking about what I could do to save souls. This simple word of the Gospel gave me light. Formerly, Jesus said to his disciples while showing them the fields of ripe wheat:

⁶ “Lift up your eyes and see how the countryside is already white enough to be harvested”, and a little further: “The harvest is abundant, but the number of workers is small. Therefore, ask the Lord of the harvest to send workers."

⁷ What a mystery! Isn’t Jesus all-powerful? Don’t all creatures belong to him who created them? Why does he lower himself, saying: “Ask the Lord of the harvest to send laborers?”… Ah! It is because he has a love for us so incomprehensible, so delicate, that he does not want to do anything without involving us. The Creator of the universe awaits the prayer of a poor little soul to save a multitude of others, redeemed, like her, by the price of his blood.

⁸ Our vocation is not to go and reap in Our Father’s fields. Jesus does not tell us: “Lower your eyes, reap the fields”. Our mission is even more sublime. Here are the words of the divine Master: “‘Lift up your eyes and see’… See how in heaven there are empty thrones. It is up to you to fill them… you are my Moses praying on the mountain. Ask me for workers, and I will send them. I am only waiting for a prayer, a sigh from your heart!"

⁹ Is not the apostolate of prayer, so to speak, higher than that of the word? It is up to us to form evangelistic workers who will save thousands of souls-the souls to whom we will be the spiritual Mothers. What, then, do we have to envy in the priests of the Lord?

13. #

¹ DEAR SISTER,

² Our childhood tenderness has changed into a great union of thoughts and feelings. Jesus has drawn us together, for are you not already his? He has put the world under our feet. Like Zacchaeus, we climbed a tree to see him… Mysterious tree, that elevates us far above all things, so we can say: “All is mine, all is for me: the Earth and the Heavens are mine, God Himself is mine, and the Mother of my God is for me.”

³ Concerning the Blessed Virgin, I must confide to you one of my simple ways. Sometimes I find myself saying to her: “Do you know, my dear Mother, that it seems to me that I am happier than you? I have you as my Mother, whereas you have no Blessed Virgin to love… It is true that you are the Mother of Jesus. You gave Him to me, and on the cross, He gave you to us as our Mother. So, we are richer than you! Long ago, in your humility, you wished to become the little servant of the Mother of God; and I, poor little creature, am not your servant, but your child! You are the Mother of Jesus, and you are my Mother!”

⁴ Céline, how marvellous is our greatness in Jesus! What mysteries he revealed to us by making us climb the symbolic tree I was talking to you about earlier! And now what science will he teach us? Have we not learned all things from him? Let’s listen:

⁵ “Hurry up and come down, I have to stay with you today."

⁶ What? Jesus tells us to “come down”! Where then should we go? Before, the Jews asked him: “Master, where are you staying?", and he answered them: “The foxes have their dens, the birds of the air their nests, but I have nowhere to lay my head." This is how far we must descend to be a suitable dwelling place for Jesus: to be so poor that we have nowhere to lay our heads.

⁷ This light was given to me during my retreat. Our Lord desires that we receive him into our hearts, and no doubt they are empty of creatures. But alas, mine is not empty of myself! This is why he commands me to “come down”. Oh! I want to descend very low, so that Jesus can rest his divine head within my heart, and there feel loved and understood.

14. #

April 25, 1893.

¹ MY LITTLE CÉLINE,

² I come to share with you the desires of Jesus for your soul. Remember that he did not say: “I am the flower of the gardens, the cultivated rose”, but: “I am the Flower of the fields and the Lily of the valleys." Well, You must always be a drop of dew hidden in the divine petals of the beautiful Lily of the valleys.

³ A drop of dew, what is simpler and purer? It was not the clouds that formed it, it was born under the starry sky and survives only at night. When the sun shines its warm rays, the charming pearls which sparkle at the ends of the blades of grass soon change into light vapors. This is the portrait of my little Céline… Céline is a drop of dew coming down from the beautiful sky, her homeland. During the night of this life, she must hide in the ruddy chalice of the Flower of the Fields-no eye should discover her there.

⁴ Happy little drop of dew, known only to God, do not stop to consider the resounding course of the news of this world, do not even envy the clear stream that winds through the meadow. No doubt its murmur is very gentle, but the creatures can hear it, and then the chalice of the Flower of the Fields cannot contain it. To approach Jesus, you have to be so small! Oh! How few souls there are who aspire to be small and unknown! “But” they say, “Aren’t rivers and streams more useful than a drop of dew? What is she doing? She’s good for nothing, except to briefly refresh the fragile petals of a country flower.

⁵ Ah! You don’t know the real Country Flower! If you knew her, you would better understand Our Lord’s reproach to Martha. The Beloved does not need our dazzling works our beautiful thoughts. If he wanted sublime ideas, wouldn’t he consult his Angels, whose knowledge infinitely surpasses all the greatest geniuses of this world? He does not search for intellect or other talents here below… He only made himself the Flower of the Fields in order to show us how much he cherishes simplicity.

⁶ The Lily of the Valley requires only one drop of dew, which, for one night only, will remain hidden from human view. But when the shadows begin to fade, the Flower of the Field will have become the Sun of Righteousness. Then, the dewdrop, the humble companion of his exile, will rise to him like a vapor of love. He will shed one of his rays onto her, and, before the entire heavenly court, she will shine eternally, like a precious pearl, the dazzling mirror of the divine Sun.

15. #

August 2, 1893.

¹ MY DEAR CÉLINE,

² What you write to me fills me with joy, you walk a royal path. The wife of Canticles, not having been able to find her Beloved in rest, got up to look for him in the city. But in vain… she could only find him outside the ramparts. Jesus doesn’t want us to find his adorable presence in rest; he hides himself; he envelopes himself in darkness… This is not how he acts towards the crowds, because we read in the holy Gospel that the people were carried away as soon as he spoke to them.

³ Jesus charmed weak souls with his divine words. He tried to make them strong for the day of temptation and trial; but how small were the number of his faithful friends when he fell silent before his judges! Oh! What melody for my heart is this silence of the divine Master!

⁴ Like you would to a poor person, he wants us to give him charity. He puts himself, so to speak, at our mercy. He does not want to take anything from us that is not given willingly, and the smallest mite is precious in His divine eyes. He extends his hand to us to receive a little love, so that on the radiant day of Judgment, this sweet Savior can speak to us these indescribable words: “Come, you blessed of my Father; for I was hungry and you gave me something to eat: I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink: I did not know where to stay and you gave me shelter; I was in prison, sick, and you helped me."

⁵ My darling Céline, let’s happily play our part. Let’s give, and give again, extravagantly, to the Beloved. Let us never forget that he is a hidden Treasure: few souls know how to discover it. To find a hidden thing, you have to hide yourself. May our life be a mystery. The author of the Imitation says: “Do you want to learn something that will benefit you? Love to be unknown and counted for nothing… After forsaking everything, you must forsake yourself. Let others glory in this and that. But for you, put your joy only in self-contempt."

16. #

¹ You tell me, my darling Céline, that my letters do you good. I am happy about that, but I assure you that I am under no misconceptions: “Unless the Lord himself builds the house, those who build it labor in vain." All the most beautiful speeches would never bring forth an act of love without that grace which touches the heart.

² Here is a beautiful pink peach and so sweet that not all confectioners could create such a nectar. Tell me, Céline, is it for fishing that the Good Lord created this pretty color and this pleasant velvety texture? Is it still for her that he spent so much sugar? But no, it’s for us; what uniquely belongs to it, what constitutes the essence of its being, is its core; she only has that.

³ Thus, Jesus takes pleasure in lavishing his gifts on some of his creatures, with the aim of attracting other souls. But inwardly, he humiliates them out of mercy; he gently forces them to recognize their nothingness and his omnipotence. These feelings form in them a nucleus of grace that he hastens to develop for the blessed day when, clothed in immortal and imperishable beauty, they will be served without danger on the table of heaven.

⁴ Dear little sister, sweet echo of my soul, your Thérèse is not in the heights of fervour at the moment. But you see, when I am in spiritual dryness, unable to pray or practice virtue, I look for small opportunities, for little things, to please my Jesus. For example: a smile, or a kind word, when I would prefer to keep quiet and show my boredom. If I don’t have the chance to do this, I at least tell him often that I love him. It’s not difficult, and it keeps the fire burning in my heart. Even if this fire of love appears extinguished, I would still throw little straw on the ashes, and I am sure that it would reignite.

⁵ It is true that I am not always faithful-but I never get discouraged. I abandon myself in the arms of the Lord. He teaches me to take advantage of everything, from the good and the bad that he finds in me. He teaches me how to speculate in the Bank of love, or rather it is he who speculates for me, without telling me how he goes about it. That is his business, not mine. My role is to give myself up entirely, without reserving anything for myself-not even the enjoyment of knowing how much my reward will be… After all, I am not the prodigal son. Jesus does not need to prepare a feast for me because I am always with him.

⁶ I read in the Holy Gospel that the divine Shepherd abandons all the faithful sheep in the desert to run after the lost sheep. How touched I am by this confidence! See, he is sure of them! How could they stray away? They are captives of love. Like this, the beloved Shepherd of our souls deprives us of his sweet presence to give his consolations to sinners. Or, if he leads us to Mount Tabor, it is just for a brief moment… the valleys are almost always the place of pastures, “it is there that he takes his rest at noon.”

17. #

October 20, 1893.

¹ DEAR SISTER,

² I find in the Sacred Songs this passage which suits you perfectly: “What do you see in the wife, if not a choir of music in an army camp?” Through suffering, your life is indeed a battlefield, and there needs to be a chorus of music! You will be the little harp of Jesus. But is a concert complete when no one sings? Since Jesus is playing, shouldn’t Céline sing? When the melody is sad, she will sing the songs of exile; when the melody is happy, it will modulate a few refrains from above…

³ Whatever happens on earth, whether happy or sad, will only be distant noises, incapable of making the harp of Jesus vibrate. He alone reserves the right to lightly touch the strings.

⁴ I cannot think without delight of dear little Saint Cecilia-what an example she gives to us! In the midst of a pagan world, in the midst of danger, at the moment she was to be united to a man who breathes only profane love, it seems to me that she should have trembled and cried. But no, while the instruments of joy celebrated her wedding, Cecilia sang in her heart. What abandonment! She undoubtedly heard melodies other than those of the earth, her divine Spouse also sang, and the Angels repeated in chorus this refrain of a blessed night: “Glory to God in the highest in the heavens and peace on earth to the souls of good will."

⁵ The glory of God! Oh! Cecilia understood it well, she called for it with all her heart. She guessed that her Jesus thirsted for souls… This is why all her desire was to soon bring him that young Roman who only thought of human glory. This wise virgin will make him a martyr, and multitudes will follow in his footsteps. She does have no fear: the Angels in their song made a promise of peace. She knows that the Prince of Peace is obliged to protect her, to guard her virginity and to give her her reward. “Oh! How beautiful is the generation of virgin souls!”

⁶ My darling sister, I don’t really know what I’m telling you, I let myself go with the flow of my heart. You write to me that you feel your weakness-this is a grace. It is Our Lord who imprints in your soul these feelings of distrust towards yourself. Do not worry. If you stay faithful pleasing him in the small things, he will feel compelled to help you in the big things.

⁷ Without him, the Apostles, worked for a long time-all night even-without catching any fish. Their work pleased him, but he wanted to prove that he alone can give us something. He only asked for an act of humility: “Children, have you nothing to eat?" and the good Saint Peter admits his helplessness: “Lord, we worked all night but have caught nothing!" That’s enough! The Heart of Jesus is touched, it is moved… Perhaps if the apostle had caught a few small fish, the divine Master would not have worked a miracle. But he had nothing. So through divine power and goodness, his nets were soon filled with big fish!

⁸ This is what our Lord does: he extravagantly gives as God, but he requires humility of heart.

18. #

July 7, 1894.

¹ MY DEAR LITTLE SISTER,

² I don’t know if you still find yourself in the same frame of mind that you expressed in your last letter. I presume so, and I respond to it with this passage from the Song of Songs which perfectly explains the state of a soul plunged into drought, a soul that is inconsolable and without joy.

³ “I went down to the walnut garden to see the fruits of the valley, to see if the vine had flowered and if the pomegranate apples had grown. I no longer knew where I was: my soul was troubled because of the chariots of Aminadab."

⁴ This is the image of our souls. Often, we descend into the fertile valleys, where our heart loves to find its nourishment. But the vast field of Holy Scripture, which has so often opened itself to us, pouring out the richest treasures, now seems to be a dry and waterless desert. We no longer even know where we are. Instead of peace and light, trouble and darkness are our share…

⁵ But, like the bride, we know the cause of this trial: “Our soul is troubled because of the chariots of Aminadab." We are not yet in our homeland, and temptation must purify us like gold by the action of fire. We sometimes think we are abandoned, alas! Are the chariots, which is to say the vain noises which besiege and afflict us, within us or outside us? We do not know! But Jesus knows it. He witnesses our sadness, and in the night suddenly his voice is heard:

⁶ “Come back, come back, my Shulamite, come back so that we may consider him!"

⁷ What a call! We no longer dared even look at ourselves; our appearance horrified us. But Jesus calls us to look upon us with pleasure… He wants to see us. He comes, and the two other adorable Persons of the Holy Trinity come with him, to take possession of our soul.

⁸ Our Lord had promised it long ago, when he said with indescribable tenderness: “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and we will dwell in him." Keeping the word of Jesus is the only condition of our happiness and the proof of our love. This ‘word’, it seems to me, is himself, because he is called the Word, or uncreated Word of the Father.

⁹ In the same Gospel of Saint John, he makes this sublime prayer: “Sanctify them by your word; your word is truth." In another place, Jesus teaches us that he is the way, the truth and the life. We therefore know what the word is to keep. We cannot say to Pilate: “What is truth?”. We possess the truth, since the Beloved dwells in our hearts.

¹⁰ Often the Beloved is a bouquet of myrrh to us-we share the chalice of his sorrows. But how sweet it will be for us to one day hear these gentle words: “It is you who have remained with me in all the trials that I have had, so I am preparing my kingdom for you, as my Father has given me."

19. #

August 19, 1894.

¹ This is perhaps the last time, my dear little sister, that I need to resort to the pen to speak with you-the good Lord has granted my dearest wish! Come, we will suffer together… and then Jesus will take one of us, and the others will remain in exile for a little longer. Listen carefully to what I am going to tell you: the good Lord willl never, never, separate us. If I die before you, don’t think that I will move away from your soul-instead, we will never have been more united. Above all, don’t worry about my prophecy, it’s childish! I am not sick; I have an iron constitution. But The Lord can break iron like clay…

² Our darling father makes his presence felt in a way that touches me deeply. After a death of five long years, what joy to find him as he used to be, and even more fatherly! Oh, how he will repay you for the care you lavished on him! You were his angel; now he will be yours. He has not been in heaven for a month, and already, through his powerful intervention, all your efforts have succeeded. Now it’s easy for him to arrange our affairs, and has had less trouble on Céline’s account than for his poor little queen!

³ For a long time, you have been asking me for news of the novitiate, and especially about my profession. I will satisfy you:

⁴ I am a little hunting dog, and this title gives me a lot of concern, because of the functions it requires, you will judge: all day long, from morning until evening, I run after game. The Hunters—Reverend Mother Prioress and Mistress novices—are too big to run into the bushes, whereas a small dog sneaks everywhere… and then it has a fine nose! Also I watch my little rabbits closely; I don’t want to hurt them; but I lick them, telling them, sometimes that their hair is not smooth enough, other times that their look is too similar to that of wild rabbits… in short, I try to make them as the Hunter desires.: very simple little rabbits, occupied only with the grass that they have to graze.

⁵ I laugh, but deep down I sincerely think that one of these little rabbits—the one you know—is worth a hundred times more than the little dog: he has run many dangers… I admit to you that in his place, long ago I would have been lost forever in the vast forest of the world.

20. #

¹ I am happy, my little Céline, that you feel no particular attraction at the thought of entering Carmel. It is a sign of Jesus’s favor and shows that he wants to receive a gift from you. He knows that it is much sweeter to give than to receive. What joy to suffer for the one who loves us madly, and to pass for crazy in the eyes of the world! We judge others by ourselves, and since the world is foolish, naturally it calls us by that name.

² Let’s console ourselves, we are not the first! The only crime Herod rebuked Our Lord for was being crazy… and frankly, it was true! Yes, it was madness to come and seek out the poor little hearts of mortals to make them thrones for him… he, the King of glory, who sits above the Cherubim! Was he not perfectly happy in the company of his Father and the Spirit of love? Why come down here, looking for sinners to make his closest friends?

³ We will never be able to accomplish for our Spouse the follies that he accomplished for us. Our actions are very reasonable in comparison to his. Let the world leave us alone! I repeat, it is the world that is foolish, since it ignores what Jesus has done and suffered to save it from damnation.

⁴ We are neither lazy or wasteful. The divine Master took charge of our defense. Pay attention to when He was at table with Lazarus and his disciples. Martha served, but Mary had no thought of food but only of pleasing her Beloved. So she sprinkled on the head of the Savior a perfume of great price, and, breaking the fragile vase, the whole house was filled with the smell of this ointment.

⁵ The Apostles complained about Magdalen. This also happens to us: even the most fervent Christians think that we are exaggerated, that we should serve Jesus with Martha, instead of consecrating to him the vessels of our lives with the perfumes that are contained inside. And yet, what does it matter that these vessels are broken, since Our Lord is consoled, and unwillingly, the world is forced to smell the perfumes that come out! These perfumes are very necessary to purify the unhealthy atmosphere it breathes.

⁶ See you soon, my darling sister. Your boat is near the port. The wind that pushes it is a wind of love, and this wind is faster than lightning! Farewell! In a few days we will be gathered at Carmel-and then up there! Didn’t Jesus say during his Passion: “Besides, you will SOON see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of God and coming on the clouds of heaven?"

⁷ We’ll be there!!!

⁸ YOUR THÉRÈSE.

To Mother Agnès of Jesus. #

21. #

A few months before Thérèse’s entry into Carmel. 1887.

¹ MY DARLING LITTLE MOM,

² You are right to say that Every cup must contain its drop of gall. I find that trials greatly help detach oneself from the earth; they make us look higher than this world. Here below nothing can satisfy us. We only enjoy a little rest when we are ready to do the will of the good Lord.

³ My basket is having a hard time reaching the port. For a long time, I have seen it, and I always find myself far from it; but Jesus guides it, this little boat, and I am sure that on the day chosen by him, it will happily land on the blessed shore of Carmel. O Pauline! When Jesus has given me this grace, I want to give myself entirely to him, always suffer for him, live only for him. Oh no! I will not fear his blows, because, even in the bitterest sufferings, we feel that it is his gentle hand that strikes.

⁴ And when I think that, for suffering borne with joy, we will always love the good God more! Ah! If at the moment of my death I could have a soul to offer to Jesus, that I would be happy! There would be one less soul in hell, one more to bless the good Lord for all eternity!

22. #

During her retreat before recieving the habit. January 1889.

¹ In my relationship with Jesus, nothing: drought! Sleep! Since my Beloved wants to sleep, I will not prevent him; I’m so happy to see that he doesn’t treat me like a stranger, that he doesn’t shy away from me. He riddles his little ball with very painful pinpricks. When it is this sweet Friend who himself pierces his bullet, the suffering is only sweetness, his hand is so gentle! What a difference from that of creatures!

² Yet I am happy, yes, very happy to suffer! If Jesus does not directly pierce her little ball, it is he who leads the hand that hurts her! O my Mother, if you knew to what extent I want to be indifferent to things on earth! What do I care about all the beauties created? I would be very unhappy if I had them! Ah! That my heart seems great to me, when I consider it in relation to the goods of this world, since all of them combined could not satisfy it. But when I consider him in relation to Jesus, how small he seems to me!

³ How good is He who will soon be my Fiancé! How divinely gracious he is in not allowing me to let myself be captivated by anything here below! He knows well that, if he sent me only a shadow of happiness, I would cling to it with all the energy, all the strength of my heart. And He refuses this shadow to me! … He prefers to leave me in darkness, rather than give me a false light that is not Him.

⁴ I do not want creatures to have a single atom of my love. I want to give everything to Jesus, since he makes me understand that he alone is perfect happiness. Everything will be for him, everything! And even when I have nothing to offer him, like tonight, I will give him this nothing…

23. #

1889.

¹ Yes, I desire these heart wounds, these pinpricks which cause so much pain! … To all ecstasies, I prefer sacrifice. That’s where happiness is for me; I can’t find it anywhere else. The little reed is not afraid of breaking, because it is planted on the edge of the waters of love. Also, when he bends, this beneficial wave strengthens him and makes him desire that another storm comes to bow his head again. It is my weakness that makes all my strength. I cannot break myself, since whatever happens to me, I only see the gentle hand of Jesus.

² Nothing too much to suffer to win the prize!

24. #

During her retreat before profession. September 1890.

¹ MY DEAR MOTHER,

² Your little loner must give you the itinerary of her trip.

³ Before leaving, my Fiancé asked me which country I wanted to travel to, which route I wanted to follow. I told him that I only had one desire, that of going to the summit of the Mountain of LOVE.

⁴ Immediately, numerous roads presented themselves to my eyes, but there were so many perfect ones that I found myself incapable of choosing any of my own free will. I then said to my divine Guide: “You know where I want to go, you know for whom I want to climb the mountain, you know the One whom I love and whom I only want to please. It is for him alone that I undertake this journey. So, lead me along the paths of his choice. As long as he is happy, I will be at the height of happiness.”

⁵ And Our Lord took me by the hand and led me into a cave where it is neither cold or hot, where the sun does not shine, where the rain and the wind cannot go; an underground where I saw nothing but a half-veiled light, the light that the lowered eyes of the Face of Jesus spread around them.

⁶ My Fiancé says nothing to me, and I say nothing to him either, except that I love him more than myself, and I feel deep in my heart that this is so, because I am more His than Him to me.

⁷ I do not see that we are moving towards the goal of our journey, since it takes place underground. Yet, it seems to me, without knowing how, that we are approaching the summit of the mountain.

⁸ I thank my Jesus for making me walk in darkness. In it I experience deep peace. Willingly, I agree to remain all my religious life in this gloomy passage into which he has brought me. I only desire that my darkness may bring light to sinners.

⁹ I am happy, yes, very happy to have no consolation. I would be ashamed if my love looked like that of the brides of the earth who always look at the hands of their fiancés to see if they do not bring them some present, or to their face, to surprise there a smile of love which delights them.

¹⁰ Thérèse, Jesus’ little fiancée, loves Jesus for himself. She only wants to look at the face of her Beloved in order to catch tears there which delight her with their hidden charms. She wants to wipe away these tears, she wants to collect them, like priceless diamonds, to embroider her wedding dress with them.

¹¹ Jesus! I would like to love him so much! To love him as he has never been loved…

¹² At any price, I want to win the palm of Agnès. If not by blood, it must be by LOVE…

25. #

1890.

¹ Love can make up for a long life. Jesus does not look at time since he is eternal. He only looks at love. O my little Mother, ask him to bestow it upon me in full measure! I do not desire that thrill of love; as long as Jesus feels its thrill, that is enough for me. Oh! To love him and make him loved, how sweet it is! Tell him to take me on the day of my Profession if I will ever offend him again, because I would like to take the white robe of my second baptism to Heaven, without any stain. Jesus can grant me the grace to no longer offend him or to only make mistakes that do not cause him pain, but only serve to humiliate me and make my love stronger.

² There is no one to lean on apart from Jesus. He alone is unfailing. What joy to think that he cannot change!

26. #

1891.

¹ MY DARLING LITTLE MOTHER,

² Oh! How much good your letter has done me! This passage was luminous for my soul: “Let us refrain from saying a word that could elevate us in the eyes of others." Yes, we must keep everything for Jesus with jealous care. It’s so good to work for him alone! How it fills the heart with joy! How it lightens the soul! …

³ Ask Jesus that Thérèse-his ‘grain of sand’-saves him many souls in a short space of time, so that she may fly more quickly towards his adored Face.

27. #

1892.

¹ Here is the dream of this ‘grain of sand’: Jesus alone! … Only him! The grain of sand is so small that, if it wanted to open its heart to anyone other than Jesus, there would no longer be room for this Beloved.

² What joy to be so well hidden that no one thinks of us-to be unknown, even to the people who live with us! O my little Mother! How I desire to be unknown to all creatures! I never desired human glory. Contempt had an attraction for my heart. But, realizing that this was still too glorious for me, I became passionate about being completely forgotten.

³ The glory of my Jesus-this is my sole ambition. My glory, I abandon it to him. If he seems to forget me, well, He is free to do so since I am no longer my own, but His. He will tire more quickly of making me wait than I will of waiting for him!

28. #

May 28, 1897. That day, while Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus was suffering from a severe bout of fever, one of our sisters urged her to help with a difficult painting job. For a moment, her face betrayed the inner struggle, which was noticed by Mother Agnès of Jesus who was present. In the evening, Thérèse wrote her this letter:

¹ MY BELOVED MOTHER,

² Just now your child has shed sweet tears of repentance-but even more of gratitude and love. Today, I showed you my virtue, my treasures of patience! I, who preach others so well! I’m glad you saw my imperfection. You didn’t scold me… however I deserved it. Always, your gentleness speaks more to me than harsh words. To me, you are the image of divine mercy.

³ On the otherhand, Sister *** is usually the image of the good Lord’s severity. Well, I have just met her, and, instead of coldly passing by me, she kissed me and said: “Poor little sister, you made me feel sorry for you! I don’t want to tire you out. Leave the work I asked you for, I was wrong.”

⁴ I, who felt perfect contrition in my heart, was very surprised not to receive any blame. I know well that deep down she must find me imperfect. It is because she believes in my imminent death that she spoke to me like this. Regardless, I have only heard sweet and tender words coming from her mouth. So, I consider her very good, but myself very naughty!

⁵ As we returned to our cell, I wondered what Jesus thought of me. Immediately I remembered what he said one day to the adulterous woman: “Has anyone condemned you?” And I, with tears in my eyes, replied: “No one, Lord… not my little Mother, image of your tenderness, or my Sister ***, image of your justice. I feel confident that I can go in peace, for you will not condemn me either!”

⁶ O my beloved Mother, I confess, I am much happier to have been imperfect than if, supported by grace, I had been a model of patience. It does me so much good to see that Jesus is always so gentle, so tender for me. Truly it is enough to make me die of gratitude and love.

⁷ My little Mother, you will understand that this evening, the vase of divine mercy has overflowed for your child. Ah! From now on, I recognize it: yes, all my hopes will be fulfilled… yes, the Lord will do wonders for me that will infinitely surpass my immense desires…

To Sister Marie of the Sacred Heart. #

29. #

February 21, 1888.

¹ MY DEAR MARIE,

² If you knew the gift Dad gave me last week! … I think if I had a hundred, or even a thousand tries, you wouldn’t guess it. Well! This good little father bought me a little day-old lamb, all white and curly. He told me, while offering it to me, that he wanted, before I entered Carmel, to give me the pleasure of having a little lamb. Everyone was happy. Céline was delighted. What touched me most was Dad’s kindness in giving it to me. And then a lamb is so symbolic! He reminded me of Pauline.

³ So far so good, everything is lovely. But you have to wait until the end. We were already building castles in Spain. After two or three days, we expected to see our lamb jumping around us. But unfortunately, the pretty little creature died in the afternoon! Poor little girl! Barely born, she suffered, then she died.

⁴ She was so nice and looked so innocent that Céline painted her portrait. Then, dad dug a pit in which we put the little lamb which seemed to be sleeping. I didn’t want the earth to cover her. We threw snow on her and then it was all over…

⁵ You don’t know, my dear godmother, how much the death of this little animal gave me food for thought. Oh! Yes, on earth we must not get attached to anything, not even to the most innocent things, because we miss them when we least think about them. Only what is eternal can satisfy us.

30. #

During her retreat before recieving the habit. January 8, 1889.

¹ My darling sister, your little lamb—as you like to call me—would like to borrow a little strength and courage from you. I cannot say anything to Jesus; and above all, Jesus says absolutely nothing to me. Pray for me, so that my retreat still pleases the Heart of Him who alone reads the depths of the soul!

² Life is full of sacrifices, it’s true; but why seek happiness here? Life is but “a night spent in a bad hotel”, as our Mother Saint Teresa says.

³ I confess to you that my heart has a burning thirst for happiness, but I see clearly that no creature is capable of quenching it! On the contrary, the more I drank from this enchanting source, the more burning my thirst would be.

⁴ I know a source where “they that drink will yet thirst," but with a very sweet thirst, a thirst that can always be satisfied. This source is the suffering known only to Jesus! …

31. #

August 14, 1889.

¹ You want a word from your little lamb. What do you want him to tell you? Was he not taught by you? Remember the time when, holding me on your knees, you spoke to me about Heaven…

² I still hear you say to me: “Look at those who want to get rich, see what trouble they go to earn money. But we, my little Thérèse, can at any moment, and with far less trouble, acquire treasures for Heaven. We can collect diamonds as with a rake! We do this by doing everything out of love for the good Lord.” And I went away with my heart filled with joy and with the desire to also amass great treasures. Time has flown by since those happy moments spent in our sweet nest. Jesus came to visit us, he found us worthy to go through the crucible of suffering.

³ The good Lord tells us that on the last day “he will wipe away all the tears from our eyes”; and, without doubt, the more tears there are to wipe away, the greater the comfort will be…

⁴ Pray well, tomorrow, for the little girl you raised and who, without you, would perhaps not be in Carmel.

32. #

During her retreat before profession. September 4, 1890.

¹ Your little girl hardly hears the heavenly harmonies: her honeymoon is very dry! Her Fiancé, it is true, takes her through fertile and magnificent countries. But the night prevents her from admiring anything and especially from enjoying all these wonders.

² You will perhaps believe that she is distressed by it? But no, on the contrary, she is happy to follow her Fiancé for Him alone and not because of his gifts. He alone is so beautiful! So lovely! Even when he is silent, even when he hides!

³ Understand your little girl: she is tired of the consolations of the earth. She only wants her Beloved.

⁴ I believe that Jesus’ work during this retreat was to detach me from everything that is not him. My only consolation is very great strength and peace. I hope to be as Jesus wants me to be-that is what makes all my happiness.

⁵ If you only knew how great my joy is at not having any to please Jesus! It is refined joy, although it is not felt at all!

33. #

September 7, 1890.

¹ Tomorrow I will be the wife of Jesus, of Him whose “Face was hidden and whom no one recognized!” What an alliance and what a future! What can I do to thank him, to make myself less unworthy of such a favor? …

² … How I thirst for Heaven, for this blissful home where we will love Jesus without limitation! But you have to suffer and cry to get there. Well! I want to suffer whatever my Beloved pleases. I want to let him do with his little ball whatever he desires.

³ My darling Godmother, you tell me that my little Jesus is very well dressed for my wedding day. Are you just wondering why I didn’t put the new pink candles in it? The others tell me more about my soul: they began to burn on the day I took the habit, then they were fresh and pink. Dad, who had given them to me, was there, and everything was joy! But now, the color of rose has passed…. Are there still rose-colored joys here below for your little Thérèse? Oh no! There are only heavenly joys for her, joys where everything created, which is nothing, gives way to the uncreated, which is reality…

34. #

September 17, 1896.

¹ My beloved sister, I am not embarrassed to answer you… How can you ask me if it is possible for you to love the good God as I love him? … My desire for martyrdom is nothing; the endless confidence that fills my heart does not derive from this. Truthfully, this desire might be described as spiritual riches, or ‘unjust wealth’-which makes someone proud and believe that they are something great… These desires are a consolation that Jesus sometimes grants to weak souls like mine—and there are many like me! But, when He does not give us a desire for martyrdom, it is actually a special grace. Remember the words of a religious saint: “The martyrs suffered with joy and the King of Martyrs suffered with sadness!” Yes, Jesus said, “My Father, take this chalice from me." Therefore, do not think that my desire for martyrdom is proof of my love. Ah! This is not at all what the good Lord takes pleasure in when He considers my little soul. What does please him is seeing me love my smallness, my poverty: it is the blind hope that I have in his mercy… This is my only treasure, dear Godmother. Why should this treasure not be not yours too?

² Are you not ready to suffer whatever the good Lord wants? Yes, I know you are. If you want to know joy and to love suffering, you are really seeking your own consolation because when you love something, the pain disappears. I assure you that if we went to martyrdom together, you would have great merit and I would have none, unless it pleased Jesus to change my disposition.

³ O my dear sister, please understand me! Understand that to love Jesus, to be his victim of love, the weaker and more miserable you are, the more you are suited to the operations of this consuming and transforming love… The mere desire to be a victim is enough, but we must consent to always remain poor and helpless. This is the difficult part, because “where can we find the truly poor in spirit? You must look far away”, says the author of the Imitation… He doesn’t say to look for him among great souls, but “far away”, which means in humility, in nothingness… Ah! Let us therefore stay far away from everything that dazzles. Love our smallness; love to feel nothing; then we will be poor in spirit. And then Jesus will come and find us, however far away we may be. He will transform us into flames of love!… Oh! How I wish I could make you understand what I feel! It is trust and nothing but trust that must lead us to Love… Doesn’t fear lead to the thought of severe justice, as is communicated to sinners? But this is not the justice that Jesus will have for those who love him.

⁴ The good God would not give you this desire-to be possessed by his merciful Love-if he had not already reserved this favor for you. Or rather, he has already done it to you, since you are entirely delivered to Him, since you desire to be consumed by Him, and the good God never gives desires that He does not intend to fulfill.

⁵ Since we see the way, let us run together. I feel it, Jesus wants to give us the same graces, he wants to give us his Heaven free of charge.

⁶ Darling godmother, you would still like to hear the secrets that Jesus entrusts to your little daughter. But human speech is powerless to repeat things that the human heart can barely sense. Moreover, Jesus also entrusts his secrets to you, because it is you who taught me to collect his divine teachings. It is you who, in my name, promised on the day of my baptism that I wanted to serve only Him alone. You were the angel who led and guided me on the road to exile. It was you who offered me to the Lord! Also, I love you as a child knows how to love her mother. Only in heaven will you know all the gratitude that overflows from my heart.

⁷ Your granddaughter,
Thérèse of the Child Jesus.

Letters to Sister Françoise-Thérèse. #

35. #

August 13, 1893.

¹ DEAR LITTLE SISTER Thérèse,

² So, your wishes are fulfilled! Like the dove out of the ark, you could not find where to set foot on the earth of the world. You flew for a long time, seeking to return to the blessed abode where your heart had forever found its home. Jesus has kept you waiting, but at last, touched by the moans of his dove, he stretched out his divine hand, took hold of it, and placed it in his Heart-in the sanctuary of his love.

³ Ah! No doubt, my joy is entirely spiritual, since from now on I will no longer see you here below, no longer hear your voice, or pour out my heart into yours. But I know that the earth is a place of passage. We are travelers who journey towards our homeland. What does it matter if the route we follow is not absolutely the same, since our only goal is Heaven, where we will be reunited, never to leave each other again. It is there that we will eternally taste the joys of family… How many things we will have to say to each other after exile from this life! Down here, words are powerless; but up there, a single look will be enough to understand. I believe our joy will be even greater than if we had never separated.

⁴ In the meantime, we must live by sacrifices. Without this, could religious life be meritorious? No! As we were told in a conference: “If the oaks of the forests reach such a great height, it is because, pressed on all sides, they do not spend their sap on growing branches to the right and the left, but rise straight towards the sky. Thus, in religious life, the soul finds itself pressed on all sides by its rule, by the exercise of common life, and everything must become a means for it to rise very high towards the Heavens."

⁵ My beloved sister, pray for your little Thérèse so that she may benefit from exile from earth and from the abundant means she has to deserve Heaven…

36. #

January 1895.

¹ DEAR LITTLE SISTER,

² The past year has been very fruitful for Heaven! … Our dear father now sees what “the eye of man cannot contemplate”, he heard the harmony of the angels… now his heart understands, his soul enjoys the rewards that God has prepared for those who love him! … Our turn will also come. Oh! How sweet it is to think that we are sailing towards the eternal shore!

³ Don’t you find, as I do, that the departure of our beloved father has brought us closer to Heaven? More than half of our family now enjoys the sight of God, and the remaining five exiles will soon fly back to their Homeland. Thinking about the shortness of life gives me courage; it helps me to bear the weariness of the journey. A little work now on earth doesn’t ultimately matter. We pass away and have no permanent home here!

⁴ Think of your Thérèse during this month dedicated to the Child Jesus, and ask Him to ensure that she remains small, very small! … I will make the same prayer for you, because I know your desires and I know that Humility is your favorite virtue.

⁵ Which Thérèse will be the most passionate? The one who will be the humblest, the most united to Jesus, the most faithful in doing all her actions out of love. Let no sacrifice pass, everything has so much value in the religious life… Picking up a pin with love can convert a soul! Only Jesus can give so much worth to our actions, so let us love him with all our strength…

37. #

July 12, 1896.

¹ MY DEAR LITTLE LÉONIE,

² I would have responded to your letter last Sunday, if it had been given to me. But you know that being the smallest, I am unlikely to see the letters until well after my sisters, or even not at all… It was only Friday that I read yours. So forgive me if I’m late.

³ Yes, you are right-Jesus is pleased with a look, a sigh of love. For me, I find perfection very easy to practice because I have understood that I only have to take hold of Jesus’ heart. Consider a little child who has just upset his mother, either by getting angry or by disobeying her. If he hides in a corner with a sulky look and cries in fear of being punished, his mother will certainly not forgive him for his mistake. But if he runs to her, holding out his little arms and says: “Kiss me, I won’t do it again,” won’t his mother immediately and lovingly press him to her heart, forgetting everything he has done? … She knows very well that her dear little one will do it again at the next opportunity. But that doesn’t matter. If he takes her by the heart again, he will never be punished.

⁴ Even under the law of fear, before the coming of Our Lord, the prophet Isaiah spoke in the name of the King of Heaven: “Can a mother forget her child?… Even if a mother forgets her child, I will never forget you.” What a delightful promise! Ah! We who live under the law of love, how can we not benefit from the loving advances of our Spouse? How can anybody fear Him Who allows Himself to be made captive “with one hair of our neck”? Let us learn to keep him prisoner, this God who becomes the beggar of our love. By telling us that a single hair can perform this wonder, he shows us that the smallest actions, done out of love, charm his Heart. Ah! If we had to do great things, we would deserve pity. But that we are happy because Jesus allows himself to be chained by the smallest ones! … You do not lack small sacrifices, my dear Léonie, isn’t your life made up of them? I rejoice to see you in front of such a treasure and especially beecause you know how to benefit from it-not only for yourself, but also for poor sinners. It is so sweet to help Jesus save the souls that he redeemed at the price of his blood, and who are only waiting for our help to keep them falling into the abyss.

⁵ It seems to me that if our sacrifices captivate Jesus, our joys also bind him. Not concentrating on selfish happiness, all we need to do is offer our Spouse the little joys that he sows on the path of life to charm our hearts and elevate them to him.

⁶ You ask me about my health. Well, I don’t cough at all anymore. Does that make you happy? It won’t stop the good Lord from taking me whenever he wants. Since I’m trying so hard to be a little kid, I don’t have to prepare for that journey. Jesus himself must pay all the costs of the trip and the price of entry to Heaven!

⁷ Farewell, my beloved sister. Do not forget, in prayer, the last, the poorest of your sisters.

38. #

July 17, 1897.

¹ MY DEAR LÉONIE,

² I am very happy to be able to speak with you. A few days ago I no longer thought I would have this consolation on earth, but the good Lord seems to want to extend a little my exile. I am not distressed by this, because I would not want to enter Heaven a minute earlier by my own will. Always try to enjoy the part that Jesus gives us-this is the only real happiness here on earth, Your part is very beautiful, my dear little sister. If you want to be a saint, it will be easy for you. Keep only one end in view: pleasing Jesus and uniting yourself ever more intimately with him.

³ Farewell, my darling sister, I want the thought of my entry into Heaven to fill you with joy, since I will be able to prove my tenderness to you there more than ever. In the Heart of our heavenly Spouse, we will live the same life, and for eternity I will remain.

⁴ Your little sister, Thérèse of the Child Jesus.

To her cousin Marie Guérin. #

39. #

1888.

¹ Before receiving your confidences (about scruples), I sensed your anxieties; my heart was united to yours. Since you have the humility to ask your little Thérèse for advice, she will tell you what she thinks. You caused me a lot of pain by leaving your communions, because you caused it to Jesus. The demon must be very clever to deceive a soul like this! Don’t you know, my darling, that you make him achieve the goal of his desires in this way? He is not unaware, the perfidious one, that he cannot make a soul who wants to be all to the good Lord; so, he only tries to persuade her that she is sinning. It is already a lot. But, for his rage, it is still not enough… he pursues something else: he wants to deprive Jesus of a beloved tabernacle. Unable to enter this sanctuary, he at least wants it to remain empty and without a master. Alas! What will become of this poor heart! … When the devil has succeeded in keeping a soul away from communion, he has won everything, and Jesus cries! …

² O my little Marta, think then that this sweet Jesus is there, in the Tabernacle, expressly for you, for you alone, that he burns with the desire to enter your heart. Do not listen to the devil, make fun of him, and go without fear to receive the Jesus of peace and love.

³ But I hear you say: Thérèse thinks that because she does not know my miseries… Yes, she knows well, she guesses everything, she assures you that you can go without fear to receive your only true Friend. She also went through the martyrdom of scruples, but Jesus gave her the grace to always receive communion, even though she thought she had committed great sins. Well, I assure you that she recognized that it was the only way to get rid of the demon; if he sees that he is wasting his time, he leaves us alone.

⁴ No, it is impossible for a heart whose only rest is to contemplate the Tabernacle—and it is yours, you tell me—offends Our Lord to the point of not being able to receive Him. What offends Jesus, what hurts his Heart, is the lack of confidence.

⁵ Pray to him a lot, so that your best years are not spent in fanciful fears. We only have the short moments of life to spend for the glory of God. The devil knows this well. This is why he tries to make us consume them in useless work. Dear little sister, communicate often, very often, that’s the only remedy if you want to get well.

40. #

1894.

¹ You look like a little village girl who would be asked to marry a powerful king, and who would not dare to accept on the pretext that she is not rich enough, that she is foreign to the customs of the court. But doesn’t her royal fiancé know her poverty and ignorance better than she does?

² Mary, if you are nothing, do you forget that Jesus is everything? You only have to lose your little nothing in its infinite everything, and to think only of this uniquely lovable everything.

³ You would like to see, you tell me, the fruit of your efforts? This is precisely what Jesus wants to hide from you. He enjoys looking alone at these little fruits of virtue that we offer him, and which console him.

⁴ Marie, you are mistaken if you think that Thérèse walks eagerly on the path of sacrifice: she is weak, very weak. And every day, she has a new and helpful reminder of this. But Jesus is pleased to teach her how to glory in her weakness. This is a great grace, and I ask him to give it to you, because with it comes peace and rest for the heart. When we see ourselves so miserable, we no longer want to look at ourselves-we only look at the one Beloved.

⁵ You ask me for a way to achieve perfection. I only know one: LOVE. Let us love, since our heart is only made for this. Sometimes I look for another word to express love. But on the land of exile, the word that begins and ends is quite powerless to convey the vibrations of the soul; we must therefore stick to this single and simple word: LOVE.

⁶ But to whom will our poor heart lavish love? Who will be big enough to receive his treasures? Will a human being be able to understand them? and above all, will he be able to return them? Mary, there is only one Being to understand love: it is our JESUS. He alone can give us infinitely more than we will ever give him…

To her cousin Jeanne Guérin (Ms. La Néele.) #

41. #

August 1895.

¹ It is very great, my dear Jeanne, the sacrifice that God asked of you by calling your little Mary to Carmel. But remember that he promised a hundredfold to him who, for his love, leaves his father, or his mother, or his sister. Well, since you did not hesitate, for the love of Jesus, to separate yourself from a sister, beloved beyond all that can be said, he finds himself obliged to keep his promise. I know that these words are usually applied to those who enter the religious life. However, I feel deep in my heart that they were also spoken for generous parents who give to God their own children, dearer than life itself.

To the Two Missionaries-her Spiritual Brothers.* #

42. #

December 26, 1895.

¹ Our Lord never asks us for a sacrifice beyond our strength. Sometimes, it is true, this He makes us taste all the bitterness of the chalice that he presents to our soul. When he asks for the sacrifice of all that is dearest on earth, it is impossible, bar a very special grace, not to cry out like him in the garden of Agony: “My Father, let this chalice pass away from me…" But let us also quickly add: “Not my will, but yours be done.” It is very consoling to think that Jesus, the divine Mighty One, knew all our weaknesses and trembled at the sight of the bitter chalice-the very chalice that he had once so passionately desired.

² Mr. Abbot, your part is truly beautiful, since Our Lord chose it for you and was the first to dip his lips into the cup that he presents to you. A saint said it: “The greatest honor that God can do to a soul is not to give it much, it is to ask it much." Jesus treats you as privileged; he wants you to begin your mission and, through suffering, to save souls. Was it not by suffering, by dying, that he himself redeemed the world? I know that you long for the happiness of sacrificing your life for him; but the martyrdom of the heart is no less fruitful than the shedding of blood; and from now this martyrdom is yours. I am therefore right to say that your part is beautiful, that it is worthy of an apostle of Christ.

43. #

1896.

¹ Let us work together for the salvation of souls. We only have the one day of this life to save them, and thus give the Lord proof of our love. The day after this day will be eternity, then Jesus will return to you a hundredfold the sweet joys that you sacrifice to him. He knows the extent of your immolation; he knows that the suffering of those who are dear to you further increases yours; but He Himself suffered this martyrdom to save our souls. He left his Mother, he saw the Immaculate Virgin standing at the foot of the Cross, her heart pierced with a sword of pain; so, I hope that our divine Savior will console your good mother, and I ask him earnestly.

² Ah! If the divine Master gave a glimpse to those whom you are going to leave for his love of the glory that he reserves for you, the multitude of souls who will form your procession to Heaven, they would already be rewarded for the great sacrifice that your distance will cause them.

44. #

February 24, 1896.

¹ I ask you to pray for me every day this little prayer which contains all my desires:

² “Merciful Father, in the name of your sweet Jesus, of the Blessed Virgin and of the saints, I ask you to inflame my sister with your Spirit of love, and to grant her the grace to make you love her very much."

³ If the Lord takes me soon with Him, I beg you to continue the same prayer every day, because I will desire the same thing in Heaven as on earth: TO LOVE JESUS AND TO MAKE HIM LOVED.

45. #

¹ The only thing I desire is to see the good God loved. And I admit that if, in heaven, I could no longer work for its glory, I would prefer exile to the Fatherland.

46. #

June 21, 1897.

¹ You can sing of the divine mercies! They shine in you in all their splendor. You love Saint Augustine and Saint Magdalen, those souls whose many sins were forgiven, because they loved much. I love them too. I love their repentance and especially their fearless love. When I see Magdalen come in front of Simon’s many guests, watering with her tears the feet of her adored Master, whom she touches for the first time, I feel that her heart has understood the abyss of love and mercy, the Heart of Jesus. And I also feel that not only was He willing to forgive her, but also to lavish upon her the favours of his divine intimacy, to elevate her to the highest summits of contemplation.

² Ah! My brother, since I too was given to understand the love of the Heart of Jesus, I admit that it has driven all fear from my heart. The memory of my faults humiliates me, leads me to never rely on my strength which is only weakness. But even more, this memory speaks to me of mercy and love. How, when we throw our faults, with filial confidence, into the devouring fire of love, how could they not be consumed without return?

³ I know that many saints spent their lives performing astonishing penances to atone for their sins. But what of it? “There are many mansions in the house of the heavenly Father…" Jesus said it, and that is why I follow the path he traces for me. I try not to worry at all about myself. What Jesus deigns to accomplish in my soul, I abandon to him without holding back.

47. #

1897.

¹ On this earth where everything changes, only one thing remains stable: the conduct of the King of Heaven towards his friends. Since he raised the standard of the Cross, it is under his shadow that all must fight and achieve victory. “The life of every missionary abounds in crosses” said Théophane Vénard; and again: “True happiness is to suffer, and, to live, we must die."

² My brother, the beginnings of your apostolate are marked with the seal of the cross: rejoice! It is much more through suffering and persecution than through brilliant preaching that Jesus wants to strengthen his reign in souls.

³ You say, “I am still a little child who cannot speak.” Father Mazel, who was ordained a priest the same day as you, did not know how to speak either. However, he has already picked the palm… Oh! That divine thoughts are above ours! … On learning that this young missionary was dead, even before having set foot on the ground of his mission, I felt led to invoke him. I seemed to see him in Heaven in the glorious choir of martyrs. No doubt, in the eyes of men, he does not deserve the title of martyr. But, in the eyes of the good God, this inglorious sacrifice is no less fruitful than those of the confessors of the faith.

⁴ If one must be very pure to appear before the God of all holiness, I know that he is infinitely just, and this justice which frightens so many souls is the subject of my joy and my confidence. To be just is not only to exercise severity towards the guilty, but also to recognize right intentions and reward virtue. I hope as much from the justice of the good God as from his mercy. It is because he is just that “he is compassionate and full of gentleness, slow to punish and abounding in mercy.” Because he knows our weakness, he remembers that we are nothing but dust. “As a father has tenderness for his children, so the Lord has compassion on us!” O my brother! Hearing these beautiful and consoling words of the king-prophet, how can we doubt that the good Lord wants to open the doors of his kingdom to his children who loved him to the point of sacrificing everything for him, who, not only left their family and their home to make him known and loved, but still desire to give their lives for him! … Jesus was right to say that there is no greater love than this! He will not allow himself to be outdone in generosity. How could He cleanse in the flames of Purgatory souls consumed with the fire of Divine Love? …

⁵ Here are many sentences to express my thoughts, or rather to fail to do so. I simply wanted to tell you that, in my opinion, all missionaries are martyrs by desire and will; and that, therefore, not one should go to purgatory.

⁶ This, my brother, is what I think of the justice of the good Lord. My way is all about trust and love. I do not understand the souls who are afraid of such a tender Friend. Sometimes, when I read certain treatises where perfection is shown through a thousand obstacles, my poor little mind quickly tires. I close the learned book which breaks my head and dries up my heart, and I take up Holy Scripture. Then everything seems luminous to me, a single word reveals infinite horizons to my soul, perfection seems easy to me, I see that it is enough to recognize one’s nothingness and abandon oneself, like a child, in the arms of the good God. Leaving to great souls, to sublime minds the beautiful books that I cannot understand, much less put into practice, I rejoice in being small, since “Only children and those who resemble them will be admitted to the heavenly banquet." Fortunately, the Kingdom of Heaven is made up of several mansions! Because, if there were only those whose description and path seemed incomprehensible to me, I would certainly never enter…

48. #

July 13, 1897.

¹ Your soul is too great to cling to the consolations of this world! You must live in Heaven now, for it is said: “Where your treasure is, there is your heart also." Isn’t Jesus your only treasure? Since he is in Heaven, that is where your heart should dwell. This sweet Savior has long since forgotten your infidelities; only your desires for perfection are present to rejoice his heart.

² I beg you, do not stay at his feet any longer; follow this first impulse which carries you into its arms; this is your place, and I see, even more than in your other letters, that you are forbidden to go to Heaven by any other route than that of your little sister.

³ I agree that the Heart of Jesus is much more saddened by the thousand little imperfections of his friends than by the faults-even serious ones-of his enemies. But, my brother, I believe that it is only when his people make a habit of their indecency and do not ask him for forgiveness, that he can say: “These wounds that you see in the middle of my hands, I received them in the house of those who loved me."

⁴ For those who love him and who, after each small fault, come and throw themselves into his arms asking for forgiveness, Jesus trembles with joy. He says to his angels what the father of the prodigal son said to his servants: “Put a ring on his finger and let us rejoice." Ah! My brother, how little is known of the goodness and merciful love of the Heart of Jesus! It is true that, to enjoy these treasures, one must humble oneself, recognize one’s nothingness, and this is what many souls do not want to do…

49. #

1897.

¹ What attracts me to the Fatherland of Heaven is the call of the Lord, it is the hope of finally loving him as I have so much desired, and the thought that I will be able to make him loved by a multitude of souls who will bless him eternally.

² I never asked the good Lord to die young: that would have seemed like cowardice to me. But he, from my childhood, deigned to give me the intimate persuasion that my journey here below would be short.

³ I feel it, we must go to Heaven by the same path: suffering united with love. When I am in port, I will teach you how you must sail the stormy seas of the world: with the abandon and love of a child who knows that his father cherishes him and would not leave him alone at the hour of danger.

⁴ Oh! How I would like to make you understand the tenderness of the Heart of Jesus, what he expects of you! Your last letter made my heart gently skip a beat. I understood to what extent your soul is sister to mine, since it is called to rise to God by the elevator of love, and not to climb the rough staircase of fear. I am not surprised to see that familiarity with Jesus seems difficult to you: you cannot get there in a day. But I am sure, I will help you much more to walk on this delicious path, when I am delivered from my mortal envelope; and soon you will say, like Saint Augustine: “Love is the weight that drags me down."

50. #

July 26, 1897.

¹ When you read this little note, perhaps I will no longer be on earth. I don’t know the future. However, I can say with confidence that the Bridegroom is at the door. It would take a miracle to keep me in exile, and I don’t think Jesus does it, because he doesn’t do anything useless.

² O my brother, how happy I am to die! Yes, I am happy, not because I will be delivered from the sufferings of this world: suffering united with love is, on the contrary, the only thing that seems desirable to me in this valley of tears. I am happy to die because, much more than here below, I will be useful to the souls who are dear to me.

³ Jesus always treated me like a spoiled child… It is true that his cross accompanied me from the cradle, But he made me love this cross with passion.

51. #

August 14, 1897.

¹ At the moment of appearing before the good God, I understand more than ever that there is only one thing necessary: to work only for Him, and to do nothing for oneself or for creatures. Jesus wants to completely possess your heart. For this, you will have to suffer a lot… but also what joy will flood your soul when you arrive at the happy moment of your entry into Heaven! …

² I do not die, I enter life… and everything that I cannot tell you here below, I will make you understand from the heights of Heaven……………….

³ What attracts me to the homeland of heaven is the call of the Lord, it is the hope of finally loving him as I have so desired, and the thought that I will be able to make him loved with a multitude of souls who will bless them eternally.

Chapter 17 #

Songs #

1. #

June 1894.

¹ My songs today. Air: God of peace and love. —— My life is a moment, a fleeting hour,
My life is a moment that escapes me and escapes.
You know, O my God, to love you on earth,
I have nothing but today!

² Oh! I love you Jesus! … towards you my soul aspires…
For one day only remain my sweet support!
Come reign in my heart, give me your smile
Just for today!

³ What does it matter to me, Lord, if the future is dark!
Praying to you for tomorrow, oh! No, I cannot…
Keep my heart pure, cover me with your shadow
Just for today!

⁴ If I think about tomorrow, I fear my inconstancy,
I feel sadness and boredom rising in my heart;
But I am willing, my God, the trial, the suffering
Just for today!

⁵ I must see you soon on the eternal shore,
O divine Pilot, whose hand leads me!
On the stormy waves guide my pod in peace,
Just for today!

⁶ Ah! Let me, Lord, hide myself in your Face;
There I will no longer hear the vain noise of the world.
Give me your love, keep me your grace
Just for today!

⁷ Close to your divine Heart, forgetting what passes,
I no longer fear the arrows of the enemy.
Ah! Give me, Jesus, a place in your Heart,
Just for today!

⁸ Living bread, Bread from heaven, divine Eucharist,
O touching mystery that love has produced!
Come and live in my heart, Jesus, my white Host,
Just for today!

⁹ Deign to unite me with you, Holy and sacred vine,
And my weak branch will give you its fruit,
And I will be able to offer you a golden cluster,
Lord, from today.

¹⁰ This cluster of love whose grapes are the souls,
I have only this day which is fleeing to form it…
Oh! Give me, Jesus, the flames of an apostle,
Just for today!

¹¹ O Immaculate Virgin! O you, the sweet Star
Who radiates Jesus and who unites me to him,
O Mother! Let me hide under your veil,
Just for today!

¹² O my Guardian Angel! Cover me with your wing,
illuminate my path with your fire, oh sweet friend!
Come direct my steps, help me, I call you,
Just for today!

¹³ I want to see my Jesus, without veil, without cloud;
However, here below I am very close to him…
His kind Face will not be hidden
Just for today!

¹⁴ I will soon fly to speak his praises,
When the day without setting on my soul will have him;
Then I will sing on the lyre of angels
THE ETERNAL TODAY!

2. #

February 25, 1895.

¹ Live on love!
Song tune: He is mine!
——
“If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him… and we will come to him, and make our home in him… I give you my peace…abide in my love.”

² On the evening of love, speaking without a parable,
Jesus said: “If anyone wants to love me,
Let him faithfully keep my word,
My Father and I will come and visit him;
And, from his heart, make our home,
Our palace, our living abode,
Filled with peace, we want him to remain
In our love.”

³ To live in love is to keep yourself:
Uncreated Word! Word of my God!
Ah! You know it, divine Jesus-I love you!
The Spirit of love sets me ablaze with its fire.
It is by loving you that I attract the Father,
My weak heart keeps him without return;
O Trinity! You are a prisoner
of my love.

⁴ To live by love is to live by your life,
glorious King, delight of the elect!
You live for me hidden in a host…
I want to hide for you, O Jesus!
Lovers need solitude,
A heart to heart that lasts night and day;
Your only look makes me happy,
I live on love!

⁵ Living from love is not of this earth.
Fixing your tent on the summit of Tabor;
With Jesus, it is to climb Calvary,
It is to look at the cross as a treasure!
In heaven, I must live in enjoyment,
Then the ordeal will have fled without return:
But, here below, I want to live in suffering
in love!

⁶ To live on love is to give without measure,
Without asking for wages here below;
Ah! Without counting I give, being very sure
that when we love we do not calculate.
To the divine Heart, overflowing with tenderness,
I gave everything! Lightly I run…
I have nothing left but my only wealth:
Living on love!

⁷ To live with love is to banish all fear,
All memories of past faults.
Of my sins I see no imprint,
In the divine fire each one is erased.
Sacred flame, oh very sweet furnace,
In your hearth I fix my stay;
Jesus, this is where I sing at my ease:
I live on love!

⁸ To live on love is to keep within oneself
A great treasure in a mortal vessel.
My beloved! My weakness is extreme!
Ah! I am far from being an angel from heaven.
But, if I fall with each passing hour,
Getting up, kissing me in turn,
You come to me, you give me your grace,
I live on love!

⁹ Living with love is constantly sailing,
Sowing joy and peace in hearts;
Loved driver! Charity urges me,
Because I see you in souls, my sisters.
Charity, that is my only star:
In its light, I sail without detour;
I have my motto written on my sail:
“Live on love!”

¹⁰ Living on love, when Jesus sleeps,
It’s rest on the stormy waves.
Oh! Do not fear, Lord, that I will awaken you,
I await in peace the shore of heaven…
Faith will soon tear its veil,
And my Hope will only count for one day;
Charity swells and pushes my sail,
I live on love!

¹¹ To live from love is, oh my divine Master!
Beg you to spread your fires
In the chosen and holy soul of your priest;
May he be purer than a seraph of heaven!
Protect your immortal Church,
I implore you every moment of the day.
I, her child, sacrifice myself for her,
I live on love!

¹² To live in love is to wipe your face,
It is to obtain forgiveness from sinners.
O God of love! May they enter into your grace,
And may they bless your Name forever!
Blasphemy resounds to my heart;
To erase it I repeat every day:
O sacred Name! I adore you and I love you,
I live on love!

¹³ To live in love is to imitate Mary
Bathing with tears, with precious perfumes
Your divine feet, which she kisses delighted,
Wiping them with her long hair;
Then, rising, in holy audacity,
she in turn embalms Your sweet Face:
I am the perfume with which I embalm Your Face,
It’s my love!

¹⁴ To live on love, what strange madness!
The world tells me, ah! Stop singing;
Do not lose your perfumes, your life;
Usefully, know how to use them!
—To love you, Jesus, what a fruitful loss!
All my perfumes are yours without return.
I want to sing as I leave this world:
I’m dying of love!

¹⁵ Dying of love is a very sweet martyrdom,
And it is the one that I would like to suffer.
O Cherubim! Tune your lyre,
For, I feel, my exile will end…
Flaming dart, consume me without respite,
Wound my heart in this sad stay.
Divine Jesus, make my dream come true:
To die of love!

¹⁶ To die of love, that is my hope!
When I see my bonds broken,
My God will be my great reward;
I don’t want to own any other property.
Of his love I am passionate;
May he finally come and set me on fire without return!
This is my sky, this is my destiny:
TO LIVE ON LOVE! …

3. #

August 12, 1895.

¹ Canticle to the Holy Face.
Air: Mignon’s regrets. (F. BOISSIÈRE.)
——
Jesus, your ineffable image
Is the star that guides my steps;
You know it well, your sweet Face
Is for me heaven here below!
My love discovers the charms
Of your eyes embellished with tears.
I smile through my tears,
When I contemplate your pain.

² Oh! To console you, I want to
live ignored and solitary;
Your beauty that you know how to veil
reveals all its mystery to me,
And towards you I would like to fly!

³ Your Face is my only homeland,
It is my kingdom of love;
He is my smiling meadow,
My sweet sunshine of each day;
He is the lily of the valley
Whose mysterious perfume
Consoles my exiled soul,
Makes it taste the peace of heaven.

⁴ He is my rest, my sweetness,
And my melodious lyre…
Your Face, oh my sweet Savior,
Is the divine bouquet of myrrh
Which I want to keep on my heart!

⁵ Your Face is my only wealth;
I don’t ask for anything more.
In it, constantly hiding,
I will resemble you, Jesus!
Leave in me the divine imprint
Of your features filled with sweetness,
And soon I will become holy,
Towards you I will attract hearts!

⁶ So that I can gather
A beautiful golden harvest,
Your fires deign to set me ablaze!
Soon, from your adored mouth,
Give me the eternal kiss!

4. #

August 15, 1895.

¹ For the day of her entry at Carmel
Air: Cute, do you know the country? (A. THOMAS.)
——
O Jesus, today you have broken my bonds!
It is in the blessed Order of the Virgin Mary
that I will be able to find true goods.
Lord, if I have left my beloved family,
You will know how to fill them with heavenly favors…
To me, you will give the forgiveness of sinners!

² Jesus, in Carmel I must live,
Since your love called me to this oasis;
That’s where I want to follow you,
love you and soon die…
It’s there, yes, it’s there!

³ O Jesus, on this day you fulfill all my wishes:
I will now be able, near the Eucharist,
to immolate myself in silence, to wait in peace for the heavens!
Exposing myself to the rays of the divine Host,
In this hearth of love I will consume myself,
And like a seraph, Lord, I will love you.

⁴ Jesus, soon I must follow you
To the eternal shore, when my days end;
Always, in heaven I must live,
Love you and no longer die,
Always, yes, always!

5. #

October 21, 1895.

¹ Jesus, my Beloved, remember!…
Air: Remember.
——
“My daughter, look for those of my words that breathe the most love. Write them down, and then, keeping them preciously like relics, take care to reread them often. When a friend wants to awaken in his friend’s heart the first vivacity of his affection, he says to him: ‘Remember what you felt when you said such a word to me one day’; or: ‘Do you remember your feelings at such a time, on such a day, in such and such a place?’ Believe it then, the most precious relics that remain of me on earth are the words of my love, the words that come from my very sweet Heart."

² OUR LORD to Saint Gertrude.
Oh! Remember the glory of the Father,
Remember the divine splendors
Which you left, exiled on earth,
To redeem all poor sinners.
O Jesus! Stooping towards the Virgin Mary,
You behold your greatness and your infinite glory.
From this maternal breast
Which was your second heaven,
Oh! Remember!

³ Remember that on the day of your birth,
Leaving heaven, the Angels sang:
“To our God: glory, honor and power!
And peace to hearts of good will!"
For nineteen hundred years, you have fulfilled your promise.
Lord, peace is the riches of your children:
To taste your indescribable peace forever.

⁴ I come to you!

⁵ I come to you, hide me in your swaddling clothes,
In your cradle I want to stay forever!
There, I will be able, singing with the angels,
to remind You of the feasts of these days:
O Jesus! Remember the shepherds and the wise men
Who joyfully offered you their hearts and their homage;
Of the innocent procession
Who gave you his blood,
Oh! Remember!

⁶ Remember that, the arms of Mary,
You preferred to your royal throne;
Little child, to sustain your life,
You had nothing but virginal milk!
To this feast of love that your Mother gives you,
Oh! Deign to invite me, Jesus, my little brother,
From your little sister
Who made your Heart beat,
Oh! Remember!

⁷ Remember that you chose your father
the humble Joseph, who, by the order of Heaven,
Without waking you in your Mother’s bosom,
Was able to take you away from the furies of a mortal.
Word-God, remember this strange mystery:
You kept silent and made an angel speak!
From your distant exile
On the banks of the Nile,
Oh! Remember!

⁸ Remember that, on other shores,
The golden stars and the silver moon,
Which I contemplate in the cloudless azure,
Have delighted, charmed your child’s eyes.
With your little hand that caressed Mary,
You supported the world and gave it life.
And you were thinking of me!
Jesus, my little King,
Reminds you!

⁹ Remember that, in solitude,
You worked with your divine hands;
Living forgotten was your dearest study,
You rejected the knowledge of humans!
O you who with a single word could charm the world,
You no longer hide your deep wisdom…
You seemed ignorant!
O Lord Almighty,
Remember!

¹⁰ Remember that stranger on earth,
You were wandering, you, the eternal Word!
You had nothing, not even a stone,
No shelter, like the bird of the sky.
O Jesus! Come into me, come and rest your head,
Come! … My soul is ready to receive you.
My beloved Savior,
Rest in my heart,
It is yours!

¹¹ Remember the divine tenderness
With which you showered the very little children;
I also want to receive your caresses.
Ah! Give me your ravishing kisses!
To enjoy your sweet presence in heaven,
I will know how to practice the virtues of childhood.
You have often told us:
“Heaven is for the child…”
Remember!

¹² Remember at the edge of the fountain
A Traveler, tired of the journey,
Made the floods of love in his heart overflow on the Samaritan woman.
Ah! I know the One who asked for a drink:
He is the “Gift of God”, the source of his glory!
You are the water that springs forth,
Jesus! You told us:
“Come to me!”

¹³ “Come to me, poor heavy-laden souls;
“Your heavy burdens will soon be lightened,
“And, forever, in my submerged Heart,
“From your bosom springs will spring.”
I am thirsty, O my Jesus! I claim this water.
With its divine torrents deign to flood my soul;
To fix my stay
In the ocean of love,
I come to you!

¹⁴ Remember that child of the light,
Often, alas! I neglect my King;
Oh! Take pity on my great misery,
In your love, Jesus, forgive me!
In the affairs of heaven deign to make me skillful,
Show me the secrets hidden in the Gospel.
Ah! That this guestbook
Is my dearest treasure,
Remember!

¹⁵ Remember that your divine Mother
has wonderful power over your Heart!
Remember that one day, at her prayer,
You changed the wave into delicious wine!
Also deign to transform my poor works…
In the voice of Mary, O God! Make them fervent:
That I am his child,
My Jesus, very often,
Remember!

¹⁶ Remember that often the hills
You climbed at sunset;
Remember your divine prayers,
Your songs of love at the hour of sleep!
Your prayer, O my God, I offer with delight
During my prayers, during the holy office:
There, very close to your Heart,
I sing with happiness,
Remember!

¹⁷ Remember that, seeing the countryside,
Your divine Heart went ahead of the harvesters;
Lifting your eyes towards the holy Mountain,
You murmured the names of your chosen ones!
So that your harvest may soon be gathered,
Every day, O my God, I sacrifice myself and I pray.
That my joy and my tears
Are for your harvesters,
Remember!

¹⁸ Remember this feast of Angels,
This harmony in the kingdom of heaven,
And the happiness of the sublime phalanxes,
When a sinner raises his eyes towards you!
Ah! I want to increase this great joy…
Jesus, for sinners I want to pray without ceasing;
For this I came to Carmel
To populate your beautiful sky,
Remember!

¹⁹ Remember this very sweet flame
That you wanted to light in hearts:
This fire from heaven, you put it in my soul,
I also want to spread its ardor.
A faint spark, oh mystery of life,
is enough to light an immense fire.
How I want, O my God,
to carry your fire far away,
Remember!

²⁰ Remember the splendid feast
Which you gave to your repentant son;
Remember that for the honest soul,
You yourself nourish it, every moment!
Jesus, with love you receive the prodigal…
But the waves of your Heart, for me, have no dam.
That your goods are mine,
My Beloved, my King,
Remember!

²¹ Remember that, despising glory,
By lavishing your divine miracles
You cried out: “How can you believe
You who seek the glory of humans?"
“The works that I do seem surprising to you:
My friends will do much more dazzling ones."
How humble and gentle you were,
Jesus, my tender Spouse,
Remember!

²² Remember that, in holy intoxication
the Apostle-virgin approached your Heart!
In his rest he knew your gentleness;
And your secrets he understood, Lord!
Of your beloved disciple I am not jealous;
I know your secrets, because I am your wife…
O my divine Savior,
I fall asleep on your Heart.
He is mine!

²³ Remember that on the evening of agony,
With your blood were mixed the tears;
Pearls of love! Their infinite value
Has caused virginal flowers to germinate.
An Angel, showing you this chosen harvest,
Made joy reborn in your blessed soul;
Jesus, you saw me
In the middle of your lilies,
Remember!

²⁴ Your blood, your tears, this fertile source
Virginizing the calyxes of flowers,
Made them capable, from this world,
Of giving birth for you a large number of hearts.
I am a virgin, O Jesus! However, what a mystery!
By uniting myself to you, I am mother of souls…
Of virginal flowers
Who save sinners,
Oh! Remember!

²⁵ Remember that, filled with suffering,
a Condemned One, turning towards the heavens,
cried out: “Soon in my power you will see me appear glorious!”
That he was the Son of God, no one wanted to believe,
For his ineffable glory was hidden.
O Prince of Peace!
I recognize you…
I believe in you!

²⁶ Remember that your divine Face,
Among yours, was always unknown!
But you left your sweet image for me…
And you know it, I recognized you!
Yes, I recognize you, even through your tears,
Face of the Eternal, I discover your charms.
That your veiled gaze
has consoled my heart,
Remember!

²⁷ Remember this loving complaint
Which, on the cross, escaped from your Heart.
Ah! In mine, Jesus, it is imprinted:
Yes… of your thirst she shares the fervor!
The more she feels wounded by his divine flames,
the more she is thirsty to give you souls.
That, with a thirst for love,
I burn night and day,
Remember!

²⁸ Remember, Jesus, Word of life,
That you loved me to the point of dying for me!
I also want to love you madly;
I also want to live and die for you:
You know, O my God, all I desire
is to make you love, and to be a martyr one day.
I want to die of love.
Lord, of my desire,
Oh! Remember!

²⁹ Remember that on the day of your victory,
You said to us: “He who has not seen
“The Son of God all radiant with glory,
“He is happy… if he still believes!"
In the shadow of faith, I love you and I adore you:
O Jesus, to see you I wait in peace for the dawn.
My desire is not
To see you here below,
Remember!

³⁰ Remember that, ascending to the Father,
You could not leave us orphans;
That, making yourself a prisoner on earth,
You knew how to veil your divine rays;
But the shadow of your veil is luminous and pure,
Living bread of faith, heavenly food.
O mystery of love!
My daily Bread:
Jesus, it’s you!

³¹ Jesus, it is you who despite the blasphemies
Of the enemies of the Sacrament of love,
It is you who want to show how much you love me,
Since in my heart you fix your stay.
O Bread of the exile! Holy and divine Host!
It is no longer me who lives; but I live from your life:
Your golden ciborium,
Favorite of all,
Jesus, it’s me!

³² Jesus, I am your living sanctuary,
which the wicked cannot desecrate.
Stay in my heart, is it not a flower bed
Where each flower wants to turn towards you?
But, if you move away, oh white Lily of the valleys!
I know it well, my flowers would quickly leaf out.
Always, my Beloved,
Jesus, Embalmed Lily,
Bloom in me!

³³ Remember that on earth I want
to console you for the forgetfulness of sinners;
My only Love, hear my prayer:
Ah! To love you, give me a thousand hearts!
But it is still too little, Jesus, supreme beauty,
Give me your divine Heart itself to love you;
From my burning desire,
Lord, every moment,
Oh! Remember!

³⁴ Remember that your holy will
Is my rest, my only happiness;
I abandon myself and fall asleep without fear
In your arms, O my divine Savior!
If you also fall asleep when the storm roars,
I want to remain always in deep peace;
But while you sleep,
Jesus! For waking up
Prepare me!

³⁵ Remember that I often long
for the day of the great coming.
May the Angel finally come who must tell us:
“The time is no more, come to the judgment!”
Then quickly I will cross the space,
And I will hide in your divine Face.
That in the eternal abode
You must be my heaven,
Remember!

6. #

October 1895.

¹ At the Sacred Heart.
Air: Little Christmas shoe.
——
Near the Tomb, Saint Magdalen
looking for her Jesus, stooped down in tears.
The Angels wanted to ease her pain,
But nothing could calm her pain.
Your sweet radiance, luminous Archangels,
Was not enough to satisfy her;
She wanted to see the Lord of the Angels,
take Him in her arms, far away.

² At the Holy Sepulcher, remaining the last,
Mary was there, long before daylight;
Her God also came, veiling his light.
She could not conquer him in love…
Then showing her his blessed Face,
Soon a single word gushed from his Heart;
Whispering the sweet name of “Mary”,
Jesus gave her peace and happiness.

³ One day, oh my God, like Magdalen,
I want to see you, come closer to you;
My gaze plunged into the immense plain
whose Master and King I sought.
And I cried out, seeing the pure wave,
The starry azure, the flower and the bird:
If I do not see God, brilliant nature,
You are nothing to me but a vast tomb.

⁴ I need a heart burning with tenderness,
Remaining my support without any return;
Loving everything in me, even my weakness,
Not leaving me night and day.
I have not been able to find any creature
Who always loved me without ever dying;
I need a God who takes my nature,
Becoming my brother and being able to suffer.

⁵ You heard me, oh! The Husband I love…
To delight my heart, making you mortal,
You shed your blood, supreme mystery!
And you still live for me on the Altar.
If I cannot see the radiance of your Face,
Hear your voice full of sweetness,
I can, O my God, live on your grace,
I can rest on your Sacred Heart!

⁶ O Heart of Jesus, treasure of tenderness,
You are my happiness, my only hope!
You who knew how to bless and charm my youth,
Stay with me until the last evening.
Lord, to you alone I have given my life,
And all my desires are well known to you.
It is in your always infinite goodness
that I want to lose myself, O Heart of Jesus!

⁷ Ah! I know it well, all our justices
Have, before your eyes, no value;
To give value to my sacrifices,
I want to throw them into your divine Heart.
You did not find your Angels without stain;
Within the lightning you gave your law;
In your Sacred Heart, Jesus, I hide,
I do not tremble: my virtue is you!

⁸ In order to be able to contemplate your glory,
I know it is necessary to pass through the fire.
And I choose for my purgatory
Your burning love, O Heart of my God!
My exiled soul, leaving life,
Would like to perform an act of pure love,
And then, flying to heaven, its homeland,
Enter your Heart, without any detour!…

7. #

March 10, 1896.

¹ The Eternal Song
Sung from exile.
Air: Mignon regretting his homeland. (LUIGI BORDESE.)
——
Your spouse, O my God, on the foreign shore
Can sing the eternal song of love;
Since in the heart of exile you deign, on earth,
With the fire of your love to set it ablaze as in heaven!

² My Beloved, supreme beauty!
To me you give yourself;
But in return, Jesus, I love you:
Make my life a single act of love!

³ Forgetting my great misery,
You come to live in my heart.
My weak love, ah! What a mystery!
Enough to chain you, Lord.

⁴ Love that ignites me,
Penetrates my soul!
Come, I demand you,
Come, consume me!

⁵ Your ardor presses me,
And I constantly want,
Divine furnace,
To sink into you.

⁶ Lord, suffering
Becomes enjoyment,
When love rushes
Towards you without return.

⁷ Heavenly homeland,
infinite sweetness,
My delighted soul has
you every day…
Heavenly homeland
O infinite joy,
You are only LOVE!

8. #

April 30, 1896.

¹ I’m thirsty for love!
Air: Within the happy homeland.
——
In your love, exiled yourself on earth,
Divine Jesus, you sacrificed yourself for me.
My Beloved, receive my whole life;
I want to suffer, I want to die for you.

² Lord, you yourself told us:
“We can do nothing more than
die for those we love.”
And my supreme love
is you, Jesus!

³ It is getting late, the day is already fading:
Stay with me, heavenly Pilgrim.
With your cross I climb the hill;
Come and guide me, Lord, on the path!

⁴ Your voice finds echo in my soul:
I want to be like you, Lord
Suffering, I claim it…
Your word of flame
Burns my heart!

⁵ Before entering into eternal glory,
“the Man-God had to suffer”.
It was by his cross that he gained victory;
O sweet Savior, have you not told us?

⁶ For me, on the foreign shore,
What contempt have you received! …
I want to hide on earth,
To be the last in everything,
For you, Jesus.

⁷ My Beloved, your example invites me
to lower myself, to despise honor:
To delight you, I want to remain small;
By forgetting myself, I will charm your Heart.

⁸ My peace is in solitude,
I ask for nothing more.
Pleasing you is my only study,
And my beatitude
is you, Jesus!

⁹ You, the great God whom the universe adores,
You live in me, prisoner night and day;
Your sweet voice implores me at all hours,
You tell me again: “I am thirsty! I’m thirsty for love! …"

¹⁰ I am also your prisoner,
And I want to repeat in my turn
Your tender and divine prayer,
My Beloved, my Brother:
I thirst for love!

¹¹ I’m thirsty for love! Fill my hope:
Increase in me, Lord, your divine fire!
I’m thirsty for love! Very great is my suffering.
Ah! I would like to fly to you, my God!

¹² Your love is my only martyrdom;
The more I feel it burning in me,
And the more my soul desires you.
Jesus, make me breathe out
of love for you!

9. #

June 7, 1896.

¹ My own sky.
Air: God of peace and love.
——
To endure exile from the land of tears,
I need the gaze of my divine Savior;
This look full of love revealed its charms to me,
It made me sense celestial happiness.
My Jesus smiles at me, when I sigh towards him;
So I no longer feel the test of faith.
The look of my God, his ravishing smile,
This is my own heaven!

² My heaven is to attract to the blessed Church,
to guilty France and to every sinner,
the grace that spreads this beautiful river of life
whose source I find, O Jesus, in your Heart.
I can obtain everything when, in mystery,
I speak heart to heart with my divine King.
This sweet prayer, very close to the sanctuary,
This is my own heaven!

³ My heaven is hidden in the little host
Where Jesus, my Spouse, veils Himself out of love.
From this divine home I will draw life;
And there, my sweet Savior listens to me night and day.
Oh! What a happy moment, when in your tenderness
You come, my Beloved, to transform me into you!
This union of love, this ineffable intoxication,
This is my own heaven!

⁴ My heaven is to feel in me the likeness
of the God who created me with his powerful breath;
My heaven is to always remain in his presence,
To call him my Father and to be his child;
Between his divine arms I do not fear the storm…
Total abandonment, that is my only law!
Sleeping on his Heart, very close to his Face,
This is my own sky!

⁵ My heaven, I found it in the Holy Trinity
Who resides in my heart, prisoner of love.
There, contemplating my God, I told him again without fear
that I want to serve him and love him without return.
My heaven is to smile at this God whom I adore,
When he wants to hide himself to test my faith;
Smile, while waiting for him to look at me again,
Here is my own sky!

10. #

June 12, 1896.

¹ My hope.
Air: O holy altar which the Angels surround.
——
I am still on the foreign shore;
But, sensing eternal happiness,
Oh! I would already like to leave the earth
And contemplate the wonders of the sky!
When I dream of immortal life,
I no longer feel the weight of my exile;
Soon, my God, to my only homeland
I will fly for the first time!

² Ah! Give me, Jesus, white wings,
So that, towards you, I can take flight.
I want to fly to the eternal shores,
I want to see you, oh my divine Treasure!
I want to fly into Mary’s arms,
Rest on this throne of choice,
And receive from my dear Mother,
The sweet kiss for the first time!

³ My Beloved, of your first smile
Let me soon glimpse the sweetness;
Ah! Let me, in my burning delirium,
Yes, let me hide in your Heart.
Happy moment! … O ineffable happiness!
When I hear the sweet sound of your voice…
When I see, from your adorable face,
the divine radiance, for the first time!

⁴ You know it well, my only martyrdom
It is your love, Sacred Heart of Jesus!
Towards your beautiful sky, if my soul sighs,
It is to love you… to love you more and more!
In heaven, always intoxicating me with tenderness,
I will love you without measure and without laws.
And my happiness will constantly seem to me
As new as the first time!

11. #

June 28, 1896.

¹ Throw flowers.
Air: Yes, I believe so, it is immaculate.
——
Jesus, my only love, at the foot of your ordeal,
Whom I love, every evening, to throw you flowers!
By stripping the leaves of the spring rose for you,
I would like to wipe away your tears!

² Throw flowers! … it is to offer you as a first fruit
The lightest sighs, the greatest pains.
My sorrows, my happiness, my little sacrifices:
Here are my flowers!

³ Lord, my soul is enamored with your beauty;
I want to lavish you with my perfumes and my flowers.
By throwing them for you on the wing of the breeze,
I would like to set hearts on fire!

⁴ Throw flowers! Jesus, here is my weapon
When I want to fight to save sinners.
Victory is mine: I always disarm you
With my flowers!

⁵ The petals of laughter caressing your Face
tell you that my heart is yours without return.
From my leafless rose, ah! You know the language,
And you smile at my love…

⁶ Throw flowers! Repeat your praises,
This is my only pleasure on the shore of tears.
To heaven I will soon go with the little angels
Throwing flowers!

12. #

1896.

¹ My desires near the Tabernacle.
Air: Let’s prevent the fires of dawn.
——
Little key, oh! I envy you,
You who can open every day
The prison of the Eucharist,
Where the God of love resides.
But I can, what a touching miracle!
By a single effort of my faith,
Open also the Tabernacle,
Hide myself there near the divine King…

² I would like, in the sanctuary,
Consuming myself near my God,
Always shine with mystery,
Like the lamp of the holy Place.
O happiness! In me, I have flames,
And I can win each day,
To Jesus, a large number of souls,
Set them ablaze with his love…

³ At each dawn, I envy you,
O holy stone of the altar!
As in the blessed stable,
On you the Lord wants to be born.
Listen to my humble prayer:
Come into my soul, sweet Savior!
Far from being a cold stone,
She is the sigh of your Heart.

⁴ O corporal surrounded by Angels,
How I long for you again!
On you, as in his humble swaddling clothes,
I see Jesus, my only treasure.
Change my heart, Virgin Mary,
Into a pure and beautiful body,
To receive the white host
Where your sweet Lamb hides.

⁵ Holy Paten, I envy you…
On you, Jesus comes to rest!
Oh! That his infinite greatness,
Deigns to stoop to me…
Jesus, fulfilling my hope,
From exile does not wait for the evening:
He comes into me! … by his presence,
I am a living monstrance.

⁶ I would like to be the chalice
Where I adore the divine Blood!
But I can, at the holy Sacrifice,
collect Him every morning.
My soul to Jesus is dearer
than precious vessels of gold;
The altar is a new Calvary,
Where, for me, his Blood still flows.

⁷ Jesus, holy and sacred Vine,
You know, O my divine King,
I am a golden cluster
Which must disappear by nature.
Under the press of suffering,
I will prove my love to you.
I want no other pleasure
than to immolate myself every day.

⁸ What a happy fate! I am chosen
Among the grains of pure wheat
Who, for Jesus, lose their life;
Very great is my delight!
I am your darling spouse,
My Beloved, come and live in me.
Oh! Come, your Beauty has delighted me,
Deign to transform me into you!

13. #

August 15, 1896.

¹ Jesus alone.
Composed for a novice.
Air: Near a cradle.
——
My ardent heart wants to give of itself constantly,
It needs to prove its tenderness.
Ah! Who can understand my love?
What heart will want to repay me?
But I claim this return in vain;
Jesus, only you can satisfy my soul.
Nothing can charm me here below;
True happiness is not found there.

² My only peace, my only happiness,
My only love, is you, Lord!

³ O you who knew how to create the hearts of mothers,
I find in you the most tender of fathers.
My only Love, Jesus, Eternal Word,
For me, your Heart is more than maternal!
At every moment, you follow me, you guard me;
When I call you, ah! You never delay.
And if sometimes you seem to be hiding,
it is you who comes to help me look for you…

⁴ It is to you alone, Jesus, that I am attached;
It is into your arms that I run and hide.
I want to love you like a little child;
I want to fight like a valiant warrior.
Like a child full of delicacies,
I want, Lord, to fill you with caresses;
And, in the field of my apostolate,
Like a warrior I rush into battle!

⁵ Your Heart, which guards and restores innocence,
cannot deceive my trust;
In you, Lord, rests my hope:
After exile, in heaven I will go to see you.

⁶ When the storm rises in my heart,
To you, Jesus, I raise my head;
In your merciful gaze,
I read: Child… for you, I made the heavens!

⁷ I know it well, my sighs and my tears
Are before you all radiant with charm;
The Seraphim, in heaven, form your court,
And yet you seek my love…
You want my heart… Jesus, I give it to you!
All my desires I abandon to you;
And those whom I love, O my Spouse, my King,
I no longer want to love them except for you.

14. #

December 25, 1896.

¹ The aviary of the Child Jesus.
Tune: Au Rossignol. (GOUNOD.)
——
For the exiles of the earth,
the good Lord created the birds;
They go, twittering their prayer,
In the valleys, on the hillsides.
The joyful and fickle children,
Having chosen their favorites,
Imprison them in cages
Whose bars are all golden.

² O Jesus, our little Brother,
For us, you left the beautiful sky;
But, you know well, your aviary,
Divine Child, is Carmel.

³ Our cage is not golden,
Yet we cherish it;
In the woods, the azure plain,
We will never fly again!
Jesus! The groves of this world
cannot satisfy us;
In deep solitude,
For you alone we want to sing.
Your little hand attracts us;
Child, how beautiful are your charms!
O divine Jesus! Your smile
Captivates the little birds.

⁴ Here the simple and candid soul
Finds the object of its love;
Here the shy dove
No longer has to fear the vulture.
On the wings of prayer,
We see the ardent heart rise,
Like the light lark
Who, high up, rises singing!
Here we hear the warbling
Of the wren, of the cheerful chaffinch.
O little Jesus! In their cage,
Your birds chirp your Name.

⁵ The little bird always sings:
His bread does not worry him…
A grain of millet pleases him,
He never sows here below.
Like him, in our aviary,
We receive everything from your hand;
The only thing necessary
is to love you, divine Child!
So we sing your praises
With the pure spirits of heaven;
And, we know, all the Angels
Love the birds of Carmel.

⁶ Jesus, to wipe away the tears
that sinners make you shed,
Your birds repeat your charms,
Their sweet songs win you hearts.
One day, far from the sad earth,
When they hear your call,
All the birds in your aviary
Will take flight towards the sky.
With the charming phalanges
Of joyful little cherubim,
Eternally,
we will sing your praises in the heavens!

15. #

1896.

¹ Gloss on the Divine.
——
Supported without any support; without light and in darkness, I will consume myself with love. - St. John of the Cross.

² In the world, what extreme happiness!
I said an eternal goodbye.
Raised higher than itself,
My heart has no other support than God;
And now I proclaim it:
What I value near him
is to see my heart and my soul
Supported without any support!

³ Although I suffer without light,
In this existence of one day,
I possess at least on earth
The celestial Star of love.
In the path that I must follow
More than one danger is encountered;
But, for love, I am willing to live
In the darkness of exile.

⁴ Love, I have experience,
Of the good, of the evil that it finds in me,
Knows how to take advantage; what power!
It transforms my soul into itself.
This fire that burns in my soul
Penetrates my heart without return;
So in its ardent flame
I go, consuming myself with love!

16. #

December 1896.

¹ To the Child Jesus.
——
Jesus, you know my name,
And your sweet look calls me…
It says to me: “Simple abandonment,
I want to guide your basket.”

² In your little child’s voice,
Oh! Wonderful!
With your little child’s voice
You calm the roaring flood,
And the wind.

³ If you want to rest,
While the storm roars,
On my heart deign to lay
Your little blond head.

⁴ How lovely your smile is
When you sleep!
Always with my sweetest song,
I want to rock you tenderly,
Beautiful Child!

17. #

January 21, 1897.

¹ My Peace and My Joy.
Air: Little bird, say, where are you going?
——
There are souls on earth
Who seek happiness in vain;
But, for me, it’s quite the opposite,
Joy lives in my heart.
This flower is not ephemeral,
I possess it without return;
Like a spring rose,
She smiles at me every day.

² Really, I’m so happy.
I always do my will;
Could I not be joyful
And not show my cheerfulness?
My joy is to love suffering,
I smile while shedding tears.
I accept with gratitude
The thorn in the middle of my flowers.

³ When the blue sky becomes dark,
And it seems to abandon me,
My joy is to remain in the shadows,
To hide, to lower myself.
My peace is the holy will
of Jesus, my only love:
Thus I live without any fear;
I love the night as much as the day.

⁴ My peace is to remain small;
Also, when I fall along the way,
I can get up very quickly,
And Jesus takes me by the hand.
So, showering him with caresses,
I tell him that he is everything to me…
And I redouble my tenderness,
When he slips away from my faith.

⁵ My peace, if I shed tears,
It is to hide them from my sisters.
Oh! What charms suffering has,
When we know how to veil it with flowers!
I am willing to suffer without saying it,
So that Jesus may be consoled;
My joy is to see him smile
When my heart is exiled.

⁶ My peace is to fight constantly
In order to give birth to the elect;
It is to repeat with tenderness,
Very often, to my sweet Jesus:
For you, my divine little Brother,
I am happy to suffer!
My unique joy on earth
is to be able to rejoice in you.

⁷ For a long time to come I want to live well,
Lord, if that is your desire.
In heaven I would like to follow you,
If that would please you.
Love, this fire of the homeland,
Does not cease to consume me;
What does death or life do to me?
My only happiness is loving you!…

18. #

March 25, 1897.

¹ My Weapons.
To a novice for her Profession.
Air: Go, heralds…
——
“The wife of the King is terrible like an army arrayed in battle; it is like a musical choir in an army camp.” - Song of Songs 6:10; 7:1.

² “Put on yourselves with the armor of God, that you may be able to resist the snares of the enemy.” - Ephesians 6:11.

³ From the Almighty I have taken up arms,
His divine hand has deigned to adorn me;
Nothing now causes me alarm,
From his love, what can separate me?
At his side, rushing into the arena,
I will fear neither iron nor fire;
My enemies will know that I am a queen,
that I am the wife of a God.

⁴ O my Jesus! I will keep the armor
That I put on before your adored eyes;
Until the evening of exile, my most beautiful adornment
Will be my sacred vows.

⁵ O Poverty, my first sacrifice,
Until death you will follow me everywhere;
Because, I know, to run in the running,
the athlete must detach himself from everything.
Taste, worldlings, the remorse and the pain,
These bitter fruits of your vanity;
Joyfully, I gather in the arena
The palms of Poverty.

⁶ Jesus said: “By violence
the kingdom of heaven is taken away."
Well! Poverty will serve as my spear,
And my glorious helmet.

⁷ Chastity makes me the sister of the Angels,
Of these pure and victorious spirits.
I hope one day to fly in their army;
But, in exile, I must fight like them.
I must fight, without rest and without truce,
For my Spouse, the Lord of lords.
Chastity is the celestial sword
which can conquer hearts.

⁸ Chastity is my invincible weapon;
My enemies, by it, are defeated;
Through her I become, oh indescribable happiness!
The wife of Jesus.

⁹ The proud Angel, in the heart of the light,
cried out: “I will not obey! …"
I repeat in the dark of the earth:
I always want to obey here below.
I feel a holy audacity born within me,
I brave the fury of all hell.
Obedience is my strong armor
And the shield of my heart.

¹⁰ O victorious God! I want no other glories
Than to submit my will in everything;
Since the obedient will repeat his victories
All eternity!

¹¹ If I have the warrior’s powerful weapons,
If I imitate him and fight valiantly,
Like the virgin with ravishing graces,
I also want to sing while fighting.
You make the strings vibrate with your lyre
, And this lyre, O Jesus, it is my heart!
Then I can sing of your mercies
of strength and sweetness.

¹² Smiling I brave the grapeshot,
And in your arms, O my divine Spouse,
Singing I will die on the battlefield,
Arms in hand!

19. #

1897.

¹ A lily among the thorns.
Composed for a novice.
Air: The other side of the sky.
——
O Lord Almighty! From my earliest childhood,
I can truly call myself the work of your love;
I would like, O my God, in my gratitude,
Ah! I wish I could pay you back.
Jesus, my Beloved, what is this privilege?
Poor little nothing, what had I done for you?
And I see myself here, following the white procession
Of the virgins of your court, amiable and divine King!

² Alas! I am nothing but weakness itself;
You know it well, my God, I have no virtues!
But you also know, for me, the supreme good
Who has always charmed me… is you, my sweet Jesus!
When this flame was lit in my young heart
Which is called love… you came to claim it.
And only law, O Jesus, could satisfy my soul,
For to the infinite I needed to love!

³ Like a little lamb far from the fold,
I playfully frolicked, ignoring the danger;
But, O Queen of Heaven, my darling Shepherdess,
Your invisible hand knew how to protect me!
So, while playing on the edge of the precipices,
You already showed me the summit of Carmel;
I then understood the austere delights
That I would have to love to fly to heaven.

⁴ Lord, if you cherish the purity of the Angel,
Of this brilliant spirit which swims in the azure,
Do you not also love, rising from the mud,
The lily that your love has kept pure?
If he is happy, my God, the Angel with the ruddy wing
Who appears before you all white with purity,
My dress, from this world, to his is similar,
Since I have the treasure of virginity!

20. #

May 1897.

¹ The leafless rose.
Air: The thread of the Virgin or The Moss Rose.
——
Jesus, when I see you supported by your Mother,
Leaving her arms,
Trembling on our sad earth trying
Your first steps;
In front of you I would like to strip the leaves of a rose
In its freshness,
So that your little foot rests gently
On a flower.

² This leafless rose is the faithful image,
Divine Child!
From the heart that wants to immolate itself without sharing for you
At every moment.
Lord, on your altars more than one fresh rose
Loves to shine;
She gives herself to you, but I dream of something else:
It’s to tear myself apart…

³ The rose in its brilliance can beautify your celebration,
Kind Child!
But the leafless rose, we forget it, we throw it
To the wind’s whim…
The rose, by leafing itself, without searching gives itself
To be no more.
Like her, with happiness, I abandon myself to you,
Little Jesus!

⁴ We walk without regret on rose leaves,
And this debris
Is a simple ornament that we dispose of without art,
I understood it…
Jesus, for your love I lavished my life,
My future;
In the eyes of mortals, rose forever withered,
I must die!

⁵ For you I must die, Jesus, supreme beauty,
Oh! What happiness!
By tearing myself apart, I want to prove to you that I love you
with all my heart.
Under your childish steps I want with mystery
to live here below;
And I would still like to soften
Your last steps on Calvary…

21. #

May 1897.

¹ Abandonment.
——
“Abandonment is the delicious fruit of love.”
Saint Augustine.
There is on this earth
a wonderful tree;
Its root, oh mystery!
Found in the heavens.
Never, under its shade,
Nothing could hurt;
There, without fearing the storm,
We can rest.
Of this ineffable tree,
Love, that is the name;
And its delectable fruit
is called abandonment!

² This fruit, from this life,
gives Me happiness;
My soul is delighted
by its divine smell.
This fruit, when I touch it,
Seems to me a treasure;
Bringing it to my mouth,
It is even sweeter to me.
He gives me in this world
An ocean of peace;
In this deep peace
I rest forever.

³ Alone, abandonment delivers me
Into your arms, O Jesus!
It is he who makes me live
From the bread of your elect;
To you I abandon myself,
O my divine Spouse!
And I only aspire
to your sweet look.
Always I want to smile,
Falling asleep on your Heart…
And there, I want to say again
That I love you, Lord!

⁴ Like the daisy
With the ruddy chalice,
I, little flower,
I open a little to the sun.
My sweet sun of life,
O my amiable King!
It is your divine Host,
Small like me…
From its celestial flame
The luminous ray
Gives birth in my soul
Perfect abandonment.

⁵ All creatures
Can abandon me;
I will know how to do without it without murmuring,
near you.
And if you abandon me,
O my divine Treasure!
No longer having your caresses,
I want to smile again.
In peace I want to wait,
Sweet Jesus, for your return,
And without ever suspending
My songs of love!

⁶ No, nothing worries me,
Nothing can trouble me.
Higher than the lark
My soul knows how to fly!
Above the clouds,
The sky is always blue;
We touch the shores
Where the good Lord reigns!
I await in peace the glory
Of the celestial abode,
For I find in the ciborium
The sweet fruit of love!

22. #

February 2, 1893.

¹ First poem by Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus.
The divine Dew or the virginal Milk of Mary.
Air: Adam’s Christmas.
——
My sweet Jesus, on the breast of your Mother
You appear to me all radiant with love;
Deign to reveal to my heart the mystery
which exiled you from the heavenly abode.
Ah! Let me hide under the veil
That hides you from all mortal gaze.
Near you alone, oh morning star,
My soul finds a foretaste of heaven!

² When, at the awakening of a new dawn,
From the golden sun we see the first lights,
The tender flower which begins to bloom
Waits from above for a precious balm:
It is the sparkling pearl of the morning,
Mysterious and full of freshness,
Which, producing abundant sap,
Very gently causes the flower to open a little.

³ It is you, Jesus, the barely bloomed Flower.
I contemplate you at your first awakening;
It’s you, Jesus, the lovely rose,
The fresh button, graceful and ruddy.
The pure arms of your dear Mother
Form for you: cradle, royal throne.
Your sweet sun is Mary’s breast,
And your dew is virginal milk!

⁴ My Beloved, my divine little Brother,
In your eyes I see the whole future:
Soon for me you will leave your Mother;
Love already urges you to suffer!
But on the cross, O blooming Flower!
I recognize your morning scent;
I recognize Mary’s pearls:
Your divine blood is virginal milk!

⁵ This dew is at the sanctuary,
the Angel would like to drink it too;
Offering to God his sublime prayer,
Like Saint John he repeats: “Here it is!"
Yes, here it is this Word made Host,
Eternal Priest, Priestly Lamb!
The Son of God is the Son of Mary…
The Bread of the Angel is the virginal milk!

⁶ The Seraphim feeds on glory,
Pure love and perfect happiness;
I, weak child, I only see in the ciborium
the color, the shape of milk.
But it is the milk that is suitable for childhood,
From the divine Heart, love is without equal…
O tender love, unfathomable power!
My white Host is virginal milk!

23. #

Christmas 1894.

¹ The Queen of Heaven to her little Marie.
To a postulant named Marie.
Air: Little bird, say, where are you going?
——
I am looking for a child who resembles
Jesus, my only Lamb,
To hide them together,
Both in the same cradle.

² The Angel of the Holy Fatherland
would be jealous of this happiness;
But I give it to you, Marie,
the Child-God will be your Spouse!

³ It is you yourself that I chose
To be Jesus’ sister.
Do you want to keep him company?
You will rest on my heart!

⁴ I will rock you under the veil
Where the King of heaven hides,
My Son will be the only star
Now bright in your eyes.

⁵ But so that, always, I shelter you
Under my veil, close to Jesus,
You will have to remain small
With childish virtues.

⁶ I want
sweetness and purity to shine on your forehead;
But the virtue that I give you
above all is simplicity.

⁷ The God, the One in three Persons,
Whom the trembling angels adore…
The Lord wants you to give him
The simple name of Fleur des champs!

⁸ Like a white daisy
Who always looks at the sky,
Be also the simple flower
Of the little Christmas Child.

⁹ The world ignores the charms
of the King who exiles himself from heaven;
Very often you will see tears
Shining in his sweet little eyes.

¹⁰ It will be necessary that forgetting your sorrows
To rejoice the lovely Child,
You will bless your noble chains,
And that you will sing softly…

¹¹ The God whose omnipotence
Stops the roaring flood,
Borrowing the features of childhood,
Is become weak and small.

¹² The Word, Word of the Father,
Who, for you, exiles himself here below,
My sweet Lamb, your little Brother,
Child, will not speak to you!

¹³ Silence is the first pledge
of his inexpressible love.
Understanding this silent language,
You will imitate it every day.

¹⁴ And if sometimes Jesus sleeps,
You will rest near him;
His divine Heart, which always watches,
will serve you as a sweet support!

¹⁵ Do not worry, Marie,
About the work of each day;
Your only job in this life
Must be only love!

¹⁶ And if someone comes to say
that your works cannot be seen:
I like them a lot, can you say:
This is my work here below.

¹⁷ Jesus will braid your crown,
If you only want his love;
If your heart abandons itself to Him,
He will make you reign one day.

¹⁸ After the night of this life,
You will see his very sweet look;
And up there your delighted soul
Will fly without any delay…

24. #

May 1897.

¹ Last poem of Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus.
Why do I love you, O Mary!
Air: The Mousse’s complaint.
——
Oh! I would like to sing, Mother, why I love you!
Why does your sweet name make my heart tremble!
And why thinking of your supreme greatness
Cannot inspire fear in my soul.
If I contemplated you in your sublime glory,
And surpassing the splendor of all the blessed;
That I am your child, I couldn’t believe it…..
Mary, ah! Before you I would lower my eyes.

² For a child to be able to cherish his mother, it is necessary
for her to cry with him, to share his pain.
O Queen of my heart, on the foreign shore,
To draw me to you, whom you shed with tears!
By meditating on your life written in the Gospel,
I dare to look at you and approach you;
Believing me to be your child is not difficult for me,
Because I see you as mortal and suffering like me.

³ When an Angel from heaven offers you to be the Mother
of God who must reign for all eternity,
I see you prefer (an astonishing mystery),
The ineffable treasure of virginity!
I understand that your soul, O immaculate Virgin,
is dearer to the Lord than the divine home.
I understand that your soul, humble and sweet valley,
Contains my Jesus, the Ocean of love!

⁴ I love you and call you the little servant
of God whom you delight with your humility.
This great virtue makes you omnipotent,
It draws the Holy Trinity into your heart!

⁵ Then the Spirit of love covers you with his shadow,
The Son equal to the Father in you was incarnate…
Of his sinner brothers the number will be very great,
Since we must call him: Jesus, your first-born!

⁶ Mary, ah! You know, despite my smallness,
Like you I have the Almighty within me.
But I do not tremble when I see my weakness:
The treasure of the Mother belongs to the child…
And I am your child, oh my dear Mother!
Are not your virtues, your love, mine?
And when the white Host descends into my heart,
Jesus, your sweet Lamb, believes he rests in you!

⁷ You make me feel that it is not impossible
To follow in your footsteps, O Queen of the elect!
You have made the narrow path to heaven visible
By always practicing the humblest virtues.
Mary, with you I like to remain small;
In the great things of this world I just see vanity.
When Saint Elizabeth receives your visit,
I’m taught to practice fervent charity.

⁸ There, I listen on my knees, sweet Queen of Angels,
to the sacred song that springs from your heart;
You teach me to sing divine praises,
To glorify myself in Jesus, my Savior.
Your words of love are mystical roses
Which must embalm the centuries to come:
In you, the Almighty has done great things:
I want to meditate on them, in order to bless him.

⁹ When the good Saint Joseph ignores the miracle
That you would like to hide in your humility,
You let him cry very close to the tabernacle
Which veils the divine beauty of the Savior.
Oh! How I still love your eloquent silence!
For me, it’s a sweet and melodious concert
Which tells me of greatness and omnipotence
Of a soul that only expects its help from heaven…

¹⁰ Later, in Bethlehem, O Joseph, O Mary,
I see you rejected by all the inhabitants;
No one wants to receive
poor strangers in their inn… the place is for the grown-ups!
The place is for the great, and it is in a stable
that the Queen of Heaven must give birth to a God.
O Mother of the Savior, how lovable I find you!
How great I find you in such a poor place!

¹¹ When I see the Lord wrapped in swaddling clothes,
Where, from the divine Word, I hear the faint cry…
Mary, at this moment, would I envy the Angels?
Their adorable Lord is my dear Brother!
Oh! How I bless you, you who
made this divine Flower blossom on our shores!
How I love you, listening to the shepherds and the wise men,
And carefully guarding everything in your heart!

¹² I love you, mingling with the other women
Who, towards the holy Temple, have directed their steps;
I love you, presenting the Savior of our souls
To the blessed old man who presses him in his arms;
First, smiling, I listen to his song;
But soon his accents make me cry…
Plunging into the future with a prophetic gaze,
Simeon presents you with a sword of sorrow!

¹³ O Queen of martyrs, until the evening of your life
This painful sword will pierce your heart.
You must already leave the soil of your homeland,
To avoid the jealous fury of a king.
Jesus sleeps in peace under the folds of your veil,
Joseph comes to ask you to leave immediately;
And your obedience is immediately revealed:
You leave without any delay and without reasoning.

¹⁴ In the land of Egypt, it seems to me, O Mary,
that in poverty your heart remains joyful;
Because isn’t Jesus the most beautiful country?
What does exile matter to you?… You possess the heavens
But in Jerusalem a bitter sadness,
Like a vast ocean, comes to flood your heart…
Jesus, for three days, hides from your tenderness.
So this is exile in all its severity!

¹⁵ Finally you see him, and love raptures you…
You say to the beautiful Child who charms the Doctors:
“O my Son, why do you act like this?
Your father and I were looking for you in tears! …"
And the Child-God responds. Oh! What a profound mystery!
To the Mother whom he loves and who holds out her arms to him:
“Why were you looking for me? … On the works of my Father
I must already think!… Didn’t you know?"

¹⁶ The Gospel teaches me that, growing in wisdom,
To Mary, to Joseph, Jesus remains submissive;
And my heart reveals to me with what tenderness
He always obeys his beloved parents.
Now I understand the mystery of the Temple,
The response, the tone of my kind King:
Mother, this sweet Child wants you to be the example
Of the soul which seeks him in the night of faith…

¹⁷ Since the King of Heaven wanted his Mother
to be subjected to the night, to the anguish of the heart.
So, is it good to suffer on earth?
Yes! … to suffer in love is the purest happiness!
Everything he gave me, Jesus can take back,
Tell him never to be embarrassed with me;
He can hide well, I agree to wait for him
Until the sunset day when my faith will die.

¹⁸ I know that in Nazareth, Virgin full of graces,
You live very poor, wanting nothing more;
No raptures, miracles, ecstasies
Enhance your life, O Queen of the elect!
The number of little ones is very great on earth,
They can, without fear, raise their eyes to you;
By a simple way, incomparable Mother,
It pleases you to walk and guide them to heaven!

¹⁹ During this sad exile, oh my dear Mother,
I want to live with you, follow you every day;
Virgin, contemplating you I immerse myself in delight,
Discovering in your heart abysses of love!
Your maternal gaze banishes all my fears:
It teaches me to cry, it teaches me to enjoy.
Instead of despising the days of holy feasts,
You want to share them, you deign to bless them.

²⁰ Of the spouses of Cana, seeing the worry
That they cannot hide because they lack wine,
To the Savior you say it, in your attentiveness,
Hoping for the help of his divine power.
Jesus seems at first to reject your request:
“What does it matter,” he replies, “woman, to you or me?"
But, deep in his heart he calls you his Mother,
And his first miracle he works for you!

²¹ One day let sinners listen to the doctrine
of Him who would receive them into heaven:
I find you with them, Mother, on the hill;
Someone tells Jesus you would like to see him.
Then your divine Son, before the entire crowd,
Shows the immensity of his love for us;
He said: “Who is my brother, and my sister, and my mother,
Except he who does my will?”

²² O immaculate Virgin, oh most tender Mother!
By listening to Jesus you do not sadden yourself,
but you rejoice that he makes us understand
that our soul becomes his family here on earth.
Yes, you rejoice that he gives us his life,
The infinite treasures of his Divinity!
How can we not love you, bless you, oh Mary!
Seeing, towards us, your generosity? …

²³ You truly love us as Jesus loves us,
And you agree for us to distance yourself from him.
To love is to give everything, and to give yourself:
You wanted to prove it by remaining our support.
The Savior knew your immense tenderness,
He knew the secrets of your maternal heart…
Refuge of sinners, it is you that he leaves us
When he leaves the cross to wait for us in heaven!

²⁴ You appear to me, Mary, at the summit of Calvary,
Standing, near the Cross, like a priest at the altar;
Offering, to appease the justice of the Father,
Your beloved Jesus, sweet Emmanuel.
A prophet said it, O desolate Mother:
“There is no pain like your pain!"
O Queen of martyrs, by remaining exiled,
You lavish for us all the blood of your heart!

²⁵ The house of Saint John becomes your only asylum;
Zebedee’s son replaced Jesus!
This is the last detail given in the Gospel:
Of the Virgin Mary he no longer speaks to me…
But does his profound silence, O my dear Mother,
not reveal that the eternal Word
Himself Wants to sing the secrets of your life
To charm your children, all the chosen ones of heaven?

²⁶ Soon I will hear this sweet harmony;
Soon, in the beautiful sky, I will go see you!
You who came to smile at me in the morning of my life,
Come and smile at me again… Mother, here is the evening!
I no longer fear the brightness of your supreme glory;
With you I suffered… and I now want
to sing on your knees, Virgin, why I love you…..
And say forever that I am your child!

25. #

¹ To Saint Joseph.
Air: By the most magnificent songs.
——
Joseph, your admirable life
was spent in humility;
But of Jesus and Mary
You contemplated the beauty!
The Son of God in his childhood,
More than once, with happiness,
Submitted to your obedience
He rested on your heart!

² Like you in solitude
We serve Mary and Jesus;
Pleasing them is our only study,
We desire nothing more.
Saint Teresa, Our Mother,
always trusted in you;
She assures that her prayer
will be answered with prompt help.

³ When the ordeal is over,
We have the sweet hope,
Near the divine Mary,
O Father, we will go to see you!
Then we will read your story
Unknown to the mortal world;
We will discover your glory
And sing it in the sky.

26. #

February 1897.

¹ To my Guardian Angel.
Air: By the most magnificent songs.
——
Glorious guardian of my soul,
You who shine in the beautiful sky
Like a sweet and pure flame,
Near the throne of the Lord;
You come for me on this earth,
And enlightening me with your splendor,
Beautiful Angel, you become my brother,
My friend, my comforter!

² Knowing my great weakness,
You lead me by the hand;
And I see you, with tenderness,
Remove the stone from the path.
Always your sweet voice invites me
To look only at the heavens;
The more humble and small you see me,
And the more radiant your face is.

³ O you who cross space
More quickly than lightning,
Often fly in my place
Near those who are dear to me;
With your wing dry their tears,
Sing how good Jesus is!
Sing that suffering has charms,
And whisper my name in a low voice.

⁴ I want, during my short life,
to Save my brother sinners;
O beautiful Angel of the homeland,
Give me your holy ardor.
I have nothing but my sacrifices,
And my austere poverty;
United to your pure delights,
Offer them to the Trinity.

⁵ Yours is the kingdom and the glory,
The riches of the King of kings.
Mine is the Bread of the holy ciborium,
Mine is the treasure of the Cross.
With the Cross, with the Host,
With your heavenly help,
I wait in peace, from the other life,
The happiness that lasts forever!

27. #

February 1897.

¹ To my little Brothers in Heaven, the Holy Innocents.
Air: The Virgin’s Thread or The Moss Rose.
——
“The Lord will gather the little Lambs and take them into his bosom.” (Isaiah 40:11)
“Blessed are those whom God counts righteous apart from works! For with regard to those who do works, the reward is not considered as a grace, but as a due thing. It is therefore freely that those who do not do works are justified by grace, by virtue of the Redemption of which Jesus Christ is the Author." (Romans 4:4-6)

² Happy little children! With what tenderness
the King of heaven
once blessed you, and filled
your joyful foreheads with caresses!
Of all the Innocents you were the figure,
And I glimpse
the goods that, in heaven,
the King of kings gives you without measure.

³ You contemplated the immense riches
of paradise,
Before knowing our bitter sadness,
Dear little lilies!
O fragrant buds, harvested at dawn
By the Lord…
The sweet sun of love which knew how to make you blossom,
It was his Heart!

⁴ What ineffable care, what exquisite tenderness,
And what love
our Mother Church lavishes on you here below,
Children of a day!
In her maternal arms you were the first fruits
Offered to God.
All eternity you will delight
Beautiful blue sky.

⁵ Children, you compose the virginal procession
of the sweet Lamb;
And you can say again, astonishing privilege!
A new song.
You have, without fighting, reached the glory
of conquerors;
The Savior has won the victory for you,
charming Victors!

⁶ We do not see any precious stones shining
In your hair,
Only the golden reflection of your silky curls
Delights the heavens…
The treasures of the elect, their palms, their crowns,
Everything is yours!
In the holy homeland, children, your rich thrones
Are their knees.

⁷ Together you play with the little angels
Near the altar;
And your childish songs, graceful phalanges,
Charm the sky!
The good Lord teaches you how he makes roses,
The bird, the winds;
No genius here below knows as many things
as you, Children!

⁸ From the azure firmament, lifting all the
Mysterious veils,
In your little hands you take the stars
With a thousand lights.
As you run you leave a silver trail;
Often in the evening,
When I see the whiteness of the milky road,
I think I see you…..

⁹ In the arms of Mary, after all your celebrations,
You come running;
Under its starry veil hiding your fair heads,
You sleep…

¹⁰ Charming little elves, your childish audacity
Pleases the Lord;
You dare to caress his adorable Face,
What a favor!

¹¹ It is you that the Lord gave me as a model,
Holy Innocents!
I want to be your faithful image here below,
Little children.
Ah! Deign to obtain for me the virtues of childhood;
Your candor,
Your perfect abandon, your amiable innocence
Charm my heart.

¹² O Lord, you know of my exiled soul
The ardent wishes:
I would like to harvest, beautiful Lily of the valley,
Bright lilies…
These spring buds, I seek them and love them
For your pleasure;
On them deign to pour the holy water of baptism:
Come and gather them!

¹³ Yes, I want to increase the candid phalanx
of the Innocents;
My joy and my pain, I offer everything in exchange
For children’s souls.
Among these Innocents I claim a place,
King of the elect,
Like them I want to kiss your sweet Face in heaven,
O my Jesus!

28. #

April 28, 1893.

¹ The melody of Saint Cecilia.
——
“While the instruments sounded, Cecilia sang in her heart.” (Lauds, First Antiphon)

² O Saint of the Lord, I contemplate delighted
The luminous furrow which remains after you;
I think I can still hear your sweet melody,
Yes, your celestial song reaches me!
From my exiled soul listen to the prayer,
Let me rest on your virginal heart:
This immaculate lily which shone on the earth
With a marvelous and almost unequaled brilliance.

³ O most chaste dove, as you went through life
You never sought any other spouse than Jesus;
Having chosen your soul, he united it,
finding it embalmed and rich in virtues.
However, a mortal, radiant with youth,
Breathed your perfume, white and celestial flower;
In order to pick you up, to win your tenderness,
Valérien wanted to give you his whole heart.
Soon he prepared a magnificent wedding,
His palace resounded with melodious songs;
But your virginal heart repeated songs
whose divine echo rose to the heavens…
What could you sing so far from your homeland,
and seeing this fragile mortal close to you?
No doubt you wanted to abandon life
And unite yourself forever with Jesus in heaven?
But no! I hear your seraphic lyre vibrate,
Lyre of your love, whose accent was so sweet;
You sang this sublime song to the Lord:
“Keep my heart pure, Jesus, my tender Spouse!"
Ineffable abandonment! Divine melody!
You reveal love through your celestial song:
The love that does not fear, that falls asleep and forgets itself
On the Heart of its God, like a little child…

⁴ In the azure vault appeared the white star
Who came to illuminate, with its timid lights,
The luminous night which showed us without veil
The virginal love of the spouses in the heavens.

⁵ So Valérien dreamed of pleasure,
Cecilia, your love was all his desire;
He found even more in your noble alliance:
You showed him the eternal future from above!
“Young friend,” you said to him, “always watches close to me:
An Angel of the Lord who keeps my heart pure;
He does not leave me, even when I sleep,
And covers me joyfully with his azure wings.
At night, I see her lovely face shine
with a brightness much sweeter than the fires of the morning;
His face seems to me the transparent image,
The pure radiance of the divine Face.”
Valérien continued: “Show me this beautiful Angel,
So that I can add faith to your oath;
Otherwise, fear already that my love will change
into terrible fury, into hatred against you.”

⁶ O dove hidden in the cracks of the stone,
You did not fear the hunter’s nets!
The Face of Jesus showed you its light,
The sacred Gospel rested on your heart…
You immediately said to him with a sweet smile:
“My celestial Guardian grants your desire;
Soon you will see him, he will deign to tell you
That to fly to the heavens, you must be a martyr…
But before you see him, baptism must
Spread a holy whiteness in your soul;
The true God must inhabit it by himself,
The Holy Spirit must give life to your heart."

⁷ “The Word, Son of the Father, and the Son of Mary,
In his immense love immolates himself on the altar;
You must go and sit at the Banquet of life,
In order to receive Jesus, the Bread of heaven.
Then the Seraphim will call you his brother,
And, seeing in your heart the throne of his God,
He will cause you to leave the beaches of the earth;
You will see the abode of this spirit of fire.”
—“I feel my heart burning with a new flame,”
cried the ardent patrician, transformed;
“I want the Lord to dwell in my soul,
Cecilia, my love will be worthy of yours!”

⁸ Clad in the dress, emblem of innocence,
Valérien could see the beautiful Angel of both;
He gazed delighted at her sublime power,
He saw the soft radiance of her radiant forehead.
The brilliant Seraphim held fresh roses,
He held beautiful lilies dazzling with whiteness…
In the gardens of heaven, these flowers were in bloom
Under the rays of love of the creative Star.

⁹ “Dear spouses of heaven, the roses of martyrdom
Will crown your foreheads,” says the Angel of the Lord.
“He is not a voice, he is not a lyre
Capable of singing this great favor.
I immerse myself in my God, I contemplate his charms,
But I cannot sacrifice myself and suffer to him,
I cannot give him either my blood or my tears;
To say my love, I cannot die.
The purity of the Angel is the brilliant share,
His immense happiness must never end;
But over the Seraphim you have the advantage:
You can be pure and you can suffer!"

¹⁰ “Of virginity you see the symbol
In these embalmed lilies, sweet gift of the Lamb;
You will be crowned with the white halo,
You will always sing the new song…
Your chaste union will give birth to souls
Who will seek no other spouse than Jesus;
You will see them shining like pure flames,
Near the divine throne, in the abode of the elect.”

¹¹ Cecilia, lend me your sweet melody;
I would like to convert so many hearts to Jesus!
I would like, like you, to sacrifice my life,
I would like to give him all my blood and my tears…
Get me to taste, on the foreign shore,
perfect abandonment, this sweet fruit of love;
O Saint of my heart! Soon, far from the earth,
Get me to fly close to you, without return…

29. #

January 21, 1896.

¹ Canticle of Saint Agnes.
Air: The Lake (Niedermeyer).
——
Christ is my love, he is my whole life,
He is the Bridegroom who alone delights my eyes;
I can already hear his sweet harmony vibrating
with its melodious sounds.

² My hair is adorned with precious stones,
His wedding ring already shines on my finger;
He deigned to cover
My virginal mantle with luminous stars.

³ He has adorned my hand with pearls without equal,
He has placed necklaces of great price on my neck;
On this blessed day,
celestial rubies shine in my ears.

⁴ Yes, I am engaged to Him whom the Angels
will serve with trembling throughout eternity;
The moon and the sun tell her praises,
Admire her beauty.

⁵ His empire is the sky, his nature is divine,
A Virgin here below, for Mother, he chooses himself;
His Father is the true God who has no origin,
He is a pure spirit.

⁶ When I love Christ and when I touch him,
My heart becomes purer, I am even more chaste;
Of virginity, the kiss of his mouth
Gave me the treasure…

⁷ He has already placed his sign on my face,
So that no lover dares to approach me;
My heart is supported by divine grace
From my kind King.

⁸ With his precious blood I am exhilarated,
I think I already taste the delights of heaven!
And I can collect on his sacred mouth
Milk with honey.

⁹ So I fear nothing, neither iron nor flame,
No, nothing can disturb my ineffable peace;
And the fire of love that consumes my soul
will never be extinguished…

30. #

February 2, 1897.

¹ To the Venerable Théophane Vénard.
Air: The Martyr’s Farewells.
——
All the elect celebrate your praises,
O Theophane, angelic martyr!
And I know it, in the holy phalanxes,
The Seraph aspires to serve you.
Not being able, on the foreign shore,
to mix my voice with that of the elected,
I want at least, on this poor land,
to take up my lyre and sing your virtues.

² Your short exile was like a sweet song
whose accents knew how to touch hearts,
And, for Jesus, your poetic soul,
At every moment, gave birth to flowers…
As you rise towards the celestial sphere,
Your farewell song was still spring;
You whispered: “I, little ephemeral,
“In the beautiful sky, I am going first!”

³ Happy martyr, in the hour of torture,
You savored the happiness of suffering!
Suffering for God seemed a delight to you;
By smiling, you know how to live and die.
To your executioner you hastened to say,
When he offered to shorten your torment:
“The longer my painful martyrdom lasts,
the better it is, the happier I will be!”

⁴ Virginal lily, in the spring of your life,
The King of heaven heard your desire;
I see in you “the blooming flower
That the Lord picks for his pleasure”.
And now you are no longer exiled,
The blessed admire your splendor;
Rose of love, the Immaculate Virgin
Your perfume breathes freshness…

⁵ Soldier of Christ, ah! Lend me your weapons;
For sinners, I would like here
to fight, to suffer, to give my blood, my tears;
Protect me, come support my arm.
I want for them, not ceasing the war,
To take the kingdom of God by storm;
For the Lord brought
not peace on the earth, but a sword and fire.

⁶ I cherish it, this unfaithful beach
Which was the object of your ardent love;
With happiness I would fly towards her,
If my Jesus asked it one day…
But before him the distances disappear;
There is only one point in this entire vast universe!
My actions, my little sufferings
Make God loved beyond the seas.

⁷ Ah! If I were a spring flower
That the Lord would soon pick!
Come down from heaven at my last hour,
I beseech you, O blessed Martyr!
From your love to the virginal flames,
Come and set me ablaze in this mortal abode,
And I will be able to fly with your souls
Who will form your eternal procession.

31. #

¹ The Shepherdess of Domremy listening to her Voices.
Pious Recreation.
——
I, Joan the shepherdess,
cherish my flock;
My staff is light
And I love my spindle.

² I love the solitude
of this pretty grove;
I have the sweet habit
of coming there in secret.

³ I braid a crown
of beautiful wild flowers;
I offer it to the Madonna
With my sweetest songs.

⁴ I admire nature,
flowers and birds;
From the murmuring stream
I contemplate the waters.

⁵ The valleys, the countryside
Delight my eyes;
The top of the mountains
Brings me closer to the heavens.

⁶ I hear strange voices
Who come to call me…
I believe that the angels
Must speak like this.

⁷ I question space,
I contemplate the skies;
I see no trace
of mysterious beings.

⁸ Crossing the cloud
Which must veil them from me,
To the celestial shore
What cannot I fly!

32. #

¹ Saint Catherine and Saint Margaret.
Air: The Angel and the Soul.
——
Loving child, our sweet companion,
Your voice so pure has penetrated the sky,
The Guardian Angel who always accompanies you
Has presented your wishes to the Lord.

² We come down from his celestial empire,
Where we reign for eternity;
It is through our voices that God deigns to tell you
His will.

³ We must leave to save the homeland,
Keep our faith, preserve its honor;
The King of heaven and the Virgin Mary
will always know how to make your arm victorious.

⁴ (Joan cries.)

⁵ Console yourself, Joan, dry your tears,
Listen and look at the heavens:
There, you will see that suffering has charms,
You will enjoy harmonious songs.

⁶ These sweet refrains will strengthen your soul
For the battle that must soon come;
Joan, you need a love full of flame,
You must suffer!

⁷ For the pure soul, in the night of the earth,
The only glory is to carry the cross;
One day in heaven, this austere scepter
Will be more beautiful than the scepter of kings.

33. #

¹ Saint Michael.
Air: Go, heralds.
——
I am Michael, the guardian of France,
Grand General in the kingdom of heaven;
Even in hell I exercise my power,
And the demon is completely envious.
Formerly also, very brilliant with light,
Satan wanted to reign in the holy place;
But I uttered like a sound of thunder
These words: “Who is like God?"

² At the same moment divine vengeance,
Digging the abyss, plunged Lucifer into it;
For there is no mercy for the proud angel,
He deserves hell.

³ Yes, it is pride which, overthrowing this angel,
Made Lucifer a reprobate:
Later also, man sought the mire,
But he was not deprived of help.
It is the Eternal Word equal to the Father,
Who, clothing in poor humanity,
Regenerated his entire work
Through his deep humility.

⁴ This same God deigns to save France;
But it is not by a great conqueror.
He rejects pride and prefers to take
The weak arm of a child.

⁵ Joan, it is you that heaven has chosen,
You must leave to respond to its voice;
You must leave your lambs, your meadow,
This cool valley, the countryside and the woods.
Arm your arm! Fly and save France!
Go… fear nothing, despise danger;
Go! I will know how to crown your valor,
And you will drive out the stranger.

⁶ Take this sword and bear it to war;
For a long time God has kept it for you:
Take a white banner for your standard,
And go find the king…

34. #

¹ Joan alone.
Air: The Mousse’s Complaint.
——
For you alone, O my God, I will leave my father,
All my dear relatives and my beautiful bell tower.
For you I will leave and fight in the war,
For you I will leave my valley, my flock.
Instead of my lambs I will lead the army…
I give you my joy and my eighteen springs!
To please you, Lord, I will wield the sword,
Instead of playing with the flowers of the field.
My voice, which mingled with the breath of the breeze,
Must soon resound even in the heart of the combat;
Instead of the dreamy sound of an uncertain bell,
I will hear the loud noise of a people fighting!
I desire the cross, I love the sacrifice:
Ah! Deign to call me, I am ready to suffer.
To suffer for your love, O Master, is delight!
Jesus, my Beloved, for you I want to die…

35. #

1894.

¹ Saint Michael.
Tune: Les Rameaux (by Fauré).
——
It’s time, Joan, you must leave.
It is the Lord who arms you for war;
Daughter of God, do not fear to die,
Soon the eternal light will come!

² Saint Margaret.
O sweet child, you will reign.
Saint Catherine.
You will follow the virginal trace of the Lamb…

³ The two Saints together.
Like us you will sing
From the Most High God, the royal power.
Saint Michel.

⁴ Joan, your name is written in the heavens,
With the names of the saviors of France;
You will shine with marvelous brilliance,
Like a queen in her magnificence.

⁵ The saints offering Joan the palm and the crown.
With happiness we contemplate
This reflection which already shines on your head,
And from the sky we bring you.

⁶ Saint Catherine.
The palm of martyrdom.
Saint Margaret.
And the crown.

⁷ Saint Michael, presenting the sword.
You must fight before you are victorious;
No, not yet the palm and the crown!

⁸ Merit them in the fields of honor;
Joan, do you hear the cannon resonating?
The Saints together.
In battles we will follow you,
We will always make you victorious,
And soon we will place
the halo of glory on your pure forehead.

⁹ Joan alone.
With you, beloved saints,
I will not fear danger;
I will pray to the God of hosts,
and I will drive out the stranger.

¹⁰ I love France, my homeland;
I want to keep my faith in him,
I will sacrifice my life to him
And I will fight for my king.
No, I’m not afraid of dying.
It’s eternity that I hope for.

¹¹ Now that I must leave,
O my God, console my mother…
Saint Michael, deign to bless me!

¹² Saint Michel.
I already hear all the elect of heaven
Singing joyfully while listening to the lyre
Of the Pope-King, of the immortal Pontiff
Calling Joan a holy Martyr.

¹³ I hear the universe proclaiming
The virtues of the child who was humble and pious;
And I see God confirming
The beautiful name of Joan the Blessed!

¹⁴ In these great days France will suffer,
Impiety will defile its enclosure;
From Joan, then, glory will shine;
Every pure soul will invoke the Saint.

¹⁵ Voices will rise to the heavens,
harmonizing in chorus, vibrant with hope:
Joan of Arc, hear our wishes;
A second time, save France!

36. #

¹ Hymn of Joan of Arc after her victories.
Air: Mignon’s regrets.
——
To you all honor and glory,
O my God, Lord Almighty!
You gave me victory,
a weak and timid child.
And you, oh my divine Mother,
Beautiful star always radiant,
You have been my light,
Protecting me from the heavens!
Of your dazzling whiteness,
O sweet and luminous star,
When will I see the splendor?
When will I be under your veil,
Resting on your heart? …

² My soul in exile from the earth
Aspires to eternal happiness;
Nothing could satisfy her…
She needs her God in heaven!
But, before seeing him without a shadow,
I want to fight for Jesus,
to win countless souls for him,
I want to love him more and more.
The exile will pass like a day;
Soon to the heavenly shore
I will fly without return;
Soon, without shadow, without cloud,
I will see Jesus, my love!

37. #

1894.

¹ Prayer of Joan of Arc in her prison.
Air: The Mousse’s Complaint.
——
My voices predicted it to me: here I am a prisoner;
I only expect help from you, O my God!
For your love alone I left my old father,
My flowery countryside and my always blue sky;
I left my valley, my beloved mother,
And showing the warriors the standard of the cross,
Lord, in your name I commanded the army:
The greatest generals have heard my voice.

² A dark prison, that is my reward,
The price of my labors, of my blood, of my tears! …
I will no longer see the places of my childhood,
My smiling meadow with its thousand flowers…
I will no longer see the distant mountain
Whose snowy summit plunges into the azure,
And I will no longer hear, of the uncertain bell,
The sweet and dreamy sound undulating in the pure air…

³ In my dark dungeon, I search in vain for the star
Which sparkles in the evening in the firmament so beautiful!
The leaves, in spring, which served as a veil for me,
When I fell asleep guarding my flock.
Here, when I sleep amidst my tears,
I dream of the perfumes, the freshness of the morning;
I dream of my valley, the woods filled with charms,
But the sound of my irons suddenly wakes me up

⁴ Lord, for your love I accept martyrdom,
I no longer fear death or fire.
It is towards you, O Jesus, that my soul sighs;
I have only one desire left, and it is you, oh my God!
I want to take up my cross, sweet Savior, and follow you,
To die for your love, I want nothing more.
I desire to die to begin to live,
I desire to die to unite myself with Jesus.

38. #

¹ The Voices of Joan during her martyrdom.
Air: Within the happy homeland.
——
We come down from the eternal shore
To smile at you and take you to the heavens;
See in our hands the immortal crown
Which will shine on your glorious brow.

² Come with us, darling virgin,
Oh! Come to our beautiful blue sky;
Leave exile for the homeland,
Come and enjoy life,
Daughter of God!

³ From this pyre the flame is kindled,
But more ardent is the love of your God;
Soon for you the eternal dew
Will replace the torture of fire.

⁴ Finally here is deliverance,
Look, liberating angel…
Already the palm is swinging,
Jesus comes towards you,
Girl with a big heart!

⁵ Virgin martyr, a moment of suffering
Will lead you to eternal rest.
Don’t cry, your death saves France;
To his children you must open the sky!

⁶ Joan, expiring.

⁷ I enter eternal life,
I see the angels, the chosen ones…
I die to save my homeland!
Come, Virgin Mary;
“Jesus… Jesus!…”

39. #

¹ Divine Judgment.
Air: Mignon regretting his homeland.
——
I answer you from above, since your voice calls me;
I break the bond that chains you in these places.
Oh, fly to me, beautiful dove,
Come… the winter is over; come and reign in heaven!
Joan, your Angel calls for you,
And I, the Judge of your soul,
In you, always, I proclaim,
I have seen the flame of love shine.

² Oh! Come, you will be crowned,
Your tears, I want to wipe them away.
From exile the shadow is declined,
I want to give you my kiss!

³ With your companions,
Come to the mountains;
And in the countryside,
You will follow the Lamb.

⁴ O my beloved,
I have asked for you;
Sing, transformed,
The new refrain.

⁵ Of all the holy Angels,
The white phalanxes
Sing your praises
Near the Lord.

⁶ Timid shepherdess,
Valiant warrior,
Your name on earth
Must be immortal.
Shy shepherdess,
Valiant warrior,
I give you heaven! …

40. #

¹ The song of triumph.
Air: Yes, I believe so, it is immaculate.
——
The Saints:

² “The immortal crown is yours;
Martyrdom of the Lord, this palm is yours.
We have prepared for you this admirable throne,
Very close to the King.

³ Ah! Remain in the heavens, Joan, pure dove
Escaped forever from the hunters’ net.
Here you will find the murmuring stream,
The space with flowering fields.

⁴ Take flight, open your white wings,
And you will be able to fly into each golden star;
You will be able to visit the eternal vaults.
Take flight!

⁵ Joan, no more enemies, no more dark prison,
The brilliant Seraphim will name you his sister;
Spouse of Jesus, your Beloved assures you
of eternal rest on his Heart!’

⁶ Joan:

⁷ “He’s mine… what extreme sweetness!
The whole sky is mine!”

⁸ The Saints:

⁹ “The whole sky is yours!”

¹⁰ Joan:

¹¹ “The angels and the saints, Mary and God himself,
They are mine!”

¹² The Saints:

¹³ “Ages have passed on the distant earth
Since the happy moment when you flew to the sky.
A thousand years are like a day on the celestial plain;
But this day must be eternal!”

¹⁴ Joan:

¹⁵ “Eternal day, without shadow, without cloud,
No one will take your immortal shine from me.
From the world she passed the fleeting image…
Heaven is mine!”

¹⁶ The Saints:

¹⁷ “Heaven is yours!”

41. #

1894

¹ Prayer from France to the Venerable Joan of Arc.
Air: Remember.
——
Oh! Remember, Joan, your homeland,
Your valleys all enamelled with flowers.
Remember the smiling meadow
That you left to wipe away my tears.
O Joan, remember that you saved France.
Like an angel from heaven you heal my suffering,
Listen in the night
to France which moans:
Remember!

² Remember your brilliant victories,
The blessed days of Reims and Orléans;
Remember that you covered with glory,
In the name of God, the kingdom of the Franks.
Now, far from you, I suffer and I sigh.
Come and save me again, Joan, sweet martyr!
Deign to break my chains…
From the evils that I have suffered,
Oh! Remember!

³ I come to you, my arms loaded with chains,
my forehead veiled, my eyes bathed in tears;
I am no longer great among queens,
And my children fill me with pain!
God is nothing to them anymore! They abandon their Mother
O Joan, take pity on my bitter sadness!
Come back, “girl with a big heart.”
Liberating angel,
I hope in you!

42. #

May 8, 1894.

¹ Canticle to obtain the canonization of the Venerable Joan of Arc.
Air: Please, my God.
——
O victorious God! The entire Church
Would soon like to honor on the altar
A martyr, a virgin warrior
Whose sweet name resounds in heaven.

² By your power,
O King of heaven!
Give Joan of France
The halo and the altar.

³ A guilty conqueror for France,
No, this is not the object of his desire;
Only Joan is capable of saving her:
All heroes weigh less than a martyr!

⁴ Joan, Lord, is your splendid work.
A heart of fire, a warrior’s soul,
You gave them to the timid virgin,
Crowning her with lilies and laurel.

⁵ She heard, in her humble meadow,
Voices from heaven calling her to battle;
Leaving then to save the homeland,
His mere appearance shook the soldiers.

⁶ Of the proud warriors, Joan won the souls:
The divine radiance of this angel of heaven,
His pure gaze, his words of flame,
Were able to bend the daring foreheads.

⁷ By a unique miracle in history,
We then saw a trembling monarch
Reconquer his crown and his glory
By means of a child’s weak arm.

⁸ These are not Joan’s victories
that we want to celebrate on this day;
We call its true glories:
Purity, martyrdom and love.

⁹ By fighting she saved France,
But her great virtues needed
The divine seal of bitter suffering,
The blessed seal of her Spouse, Jesus.

¹⁰ At the stake, sacrificing her life,
Joan heard the voice of the blessed,
She left exile for her homeland.
The saving angel returned to heaven! …

¹¹ Child, you are our sweet hope;
We beg you, deign to hear our voices;
Come down to us! Come convert France,
Come save it a second time!

¹² By the power
of the victorious God,
Save, save France,
Liberating Angel!

¹³ Driving the English out of the country of France,
Daughter of God, how beautiful were your steps!
But remember that in the days of your childhood,
You only looked after weak lambs.

¹⁴ Take up the defense
of the powerless,
preserve innocence
in the hearts of children.

¹⁵ Sweet martyrdom, our monasteries are yours!
You know it well, virgins are your sisters:
And, like you, the object of their prayers
It is to see God reign in all hearts.

¹⁶ Saving souls
Is their desire,
Ah! Give them your flames
of apostle and martyr!

¹⁷ Far from us all fear will flee,
When we see the Church crowning
The pure brow of Joan our saint;
And it is then that we can sing:

¹⁸ Our hope
Rests in you,
Saint Joan of France,
Pray, pray for us!

43. #

November 20, 1894.

¹ Story of a Shepherdess who became Queen.
To a young lay sister named Mélanie Marie-Madeleine for the day of her profession.
——
On this beautiful day, O Madeleine,
We come to sing near you
The wonderful and sweet chain
Which unites you to your Spouse.
Listen to the charming story
Of a shepherdess whom a great King
One day wanted to fill with glory,
And who responded to his voice:

² Chorus:

³ Let us sing of the shepherdess,
Poor on earth,
Whom the King of heaven
Marries this day in Carmel.

⁴ A little shepherd,
While spinning, guarded her lambs.
She admired each flower,
Listened to the song of the birds;
Understanding well the sweet language
Of the great woods and the beautiful blue sky,
Everything for her was an image
Which revealed the good God to her.

⁵ She loved Jesus and Mary
with great ardor.
They also loved Mélanie,
And came to speak to her heart.
“Do you want,” said the sweet Queen,
“Near me, on Mount Carmel,
do you want to become Madeleine,
And only gain the sky?
Child, leave this countryside,
Do not regret your flock;
There, on my holy Mountain,
Jesus will be your only Lamb.”
-“Oh! Come, your soul has charmed me,”
Jesus said again in his turn;
“I take you for my fiancée,
You will be mine without return.”

⁶ With happiness the humble shepherdess
Responded to this sweet call,
And, following the Virgin, her Mother,
Reached the summit of Carmel.

⁷ It is you, little Madeleine,
whom we celebrate on this great day.
The shepherdess is now queen
Near King Jesus, her Love!

⁸ You know, oh dear sister,
To serve our God is to reign.
The sweet Savior, during his life,
never ceased to teach us:
“If, in the heavenly homeland,
you want to be the first,
you will have to hide,
all your life, to be the last.”

⁹ Happy are you, Madeleine,
from your place, in this Carmel!
Would it be any pain for you,
Being so close to the beautiful sky?
You imitate Martha and Mary:
Praying, serving the sweet Savior,
This is the goal of your life;
It gives you true happiness.

¹⁰ If sometimes bitter suffering
Comes to visit your heart,
Make it your enjoyment;
Suffering for God, what sweetness!
Then the divine tenderness
will quickly make you forget
that you are walking on thorns,
and you will rather believe that you are flying…

¹¹ Today the Angel envies you,
he would like to taste the happiness
that you possess, oh Mary,
being the wife of the Lord!
Soon, in the holy phalanxes,
Among the Thrones, the Virtues,
You will speak loudly the praises
Of your Spouse, King Jesus.

¹² Soon the shepherdess,
Poor on earth,
Flying into heaven,
Will reign near the Lord!

44. #

¹ The divine little Christmas Beggar.
Pious recreation.
——
An angel appears carrying the Child Jesus in his arms and sings the following:
Air: SANCTA MARIA — I saw the seraphim in a dream. (Faure.)

² In the name of Him whom I adore,
My sisters, I come to stretch out my hand,
And sing for the divine Child,
For he cannot yet speak!
For Jesus, the Exile from heaven,
I encountered in the world
Only profound indifference;
This is why I come to Carmel.

³ Always, always, may your caresses,
Your praise and your tenderness,
Be for the Child!
Burn with love, delighted soul;
God for you has become mortal.
O touching mystery! He who begs you
is the eternal Word!

⁴ O my sisters, approach without fear:
Come, each in turn,
Offer your love to Jesus;
You will know his holy will.
I will teach you the desire
Of the Child lying in swaddling clothes,
To you, pure as angels
And who, moreover, can suffer!

⁵ Always, always, may your sufferings,
And likewise your enjoyments
Be for the Child
Burn with love, delighted soul;
God for you has become mortal.
O touching mystery! He who begs you
is the eternal Word!

⁶ The Angel having placed the Child Jesus in the crib,
presents to the Mother Prioress,
then to all the Carmelites,
a basket full of notes;
each one takes one at random, and, without opening it,
gives it to the Angel who sings the alms requested by the divine Child.

45. #

¹ The following stanzas are sung to the tune of Christmas (by Holmès).
A golden throne.
——
Of Jesus, your only treasure,
Listen to the kind desire:
He asks you for a golden throne,
But finds none in the manger.
The manger is like the sinner
Where Jesus sees nothing
That can rejoice his Heart,
Where he never rests…
Save, my sister,
The soul of the sinner!
Towards this throne, Jesus sighs.
But, even more,
For his golden throne,
It is your pure heart that he desires.
Milk.

² He who nourishes the elect
With his holy and divine essence,
became the Child Jesus for you;
He demands your assistance!
In heaven his happiness is perfect;
But he is poor on earth…
Give, my sister, a little milk
to Jesus your little Brother!
He smiles at you,
whispering to you again:
It’s the simplicity that I like.
Christmas! Christmas!
I come down from heaven;
My sweet milk of love is you.
Little birds.

³ My sister, you burn to know
What the Child Jesus desires;
Well! I will tell you this evening
How you will make him smile:
Catch charming birds;
Make them fly into the stable.
They are the image of the children
whom the adorable Word cherishes.
At their sweet songs,
Their twittering,
His childish face shines.
Pray for them;
One day in heaven,
They will form your crown.
A star.

⁴ Sometimes, when the sky is black
And covered with a dark cloud,
Jesus is very sad in the evening,
Being without light, in the shadows.
To rejoice the Child Jesus,
Like a sparkling star,
Shine with all your virtues…
Be a fiery light!
Ah! May your fires,
Guiding them to heaven,
Sinners tear the veil.
The divine Child,
The Morning Star
Asks you to be His sweet star.
A lyre.

⁵ Listen, my little sister,
What the Child Jesus desires:
He asks for your heart
For his melodious lyre!
He did indeed have, in his beautiful sky,
The harmony and incense of the Angels;
But he wants you, on Carmel,
to sing his praises like them.
Kind sister,
It is from your heart
that Jesus wants the melody…
The night, the day,
In songs of love,
Your life will be consumed.
Roses.

⁶ Your soul is an embalmed lily
That charms Jesus and his mother;
Listen to your Beloved
Saying quietly with mystery:
Ah! If I cherish the whiteness
of the lilies, symbols of innocence,
I also love the rich color
of the roses of penance.
When your tears
Water hearts,
What charming pleasure you cause me!
Because I can,
As long as I want, Pick roses
with both hands!
A valley.

⁷ As, by the brilliance of the sun,
Nature is completely beautified;
Let it gild with its ruddy fire
The valley, and the meadow:
So too Jesus, the divine Sun,
Touches nothing without gilding it.
He shines in the morning,
Much more than a brilliant dawn.
When he wakes up,
The divine Sun
Spreads over your exiled soul,
With its gifts,
Its warmest rays:
Be His smiling valley! …
Harvesters.

⁸ There, under other horizons,
Despite the frost and the snow,
Already the harvests are turning golden
Which the divine Child protects.
But unfortunately! To harvest them
Burning souls are needed:
Reapers willing to suffer,
Playing with iron and flames;
Christmas! Christmas!
I come to Carmel,
Knowing that my wishes are yours.
To the sweet Savior
Give birth, my sister,
A great number of souls of apostles…
A bunch of grapes.

⁹ I would like a tasty fruit,
A cluster all golden,
To refresh the King of heaven’s
thirsty little mouth.
My sister, how sweet is your fate!
You are this chosen cluster;
Jesus will squeeze you very tightly
In his cute and darling hand.
In this night,
He is too small
To eat the grape itself;
The sweet juice,
By him all golden,
That’s simply what he likes!
A small host.

¹⁰ Jesus, the beautiful divine Child,
To communicate his life to you,
Transforms into himself, every morning,
A small and white host;
With even more love,
He wants to change you into himself.
Your heart is his dear treasure,
his happiness, his supreme pleasure.
Christmas! Christmas!
I come down from heaven,
To say to your delighted soul:
The Lamb so gentle
Lowers himself towards you;
Be his white and pure host!

46. #

Christmas 1895.

¹ The following verses are sung to the tune: Au Rossignol (Gounod).
A smile.
——
The world ignores the charms
of Jesus, your lovely Spouse,
and I see little tears
sparkling in his sweet eyes.
Console, oh my darling sister,
This Child who holds out his arms to you.
To charm him, please,
Always smile here below!
See… his look seems to say:
“When you smile at your sisters,
O my wife, your smile
is enough to wipe away my tears!”
A toy.

² Do you want to be on earth
The toy of the divine Child?
My sister, do you want to please him?
Stay in his little hand.
If the kind Child caresses you,
If he brings you closer to his Heart,
Or if, sometimes, he abandons you,
Make yourself happy with everything!
Always seek out his whims,
You will charm his divine eyes.
From now on, all your delights
Will be his childish desires.
A pillow.

³ In the manger where Jesus rests,
I often imagine him being woken.
Do you want to know the cause?
He finds no pillow there…
I know, your soul only desires
to console him night and day;
Well, he desires the pillow,
Which is your heart burning with love!
Ah! Always be humble and gentle,
And the most cherished of Treasures
Will be able to tell you: My wife,
In you gently I fall asleep!…
A flower.

⁴ The earth is covered with snow,
Everywhere there is harsh frost.
Winter and its sad procession
Have withered the flowers here below.
But for you has blossomed
The lovely Flower of the fields
Which comes from the holy homeland,
Where eternal spring reigns.
My sister, hide in the grass,
Near the Christmas Rose;
And also be the flower
of your Spouse, the King of heaven.
Bread.

⁵ Every day, in your prayer,
Speaking to the Author of all good,
You repeat: O our Father!
Give us daily bread.
This God, who became your Brother,
suffers from hunger like you.
Listen to his humble prayer:
He asks you for a little bread! …
O my sister, be sure,
Jesus only wants your love.
He feeds on the pure soul;
This is his daily bread.
A mirror.

⁶ Every child likes to be placed
In front of a faithful mirror,
So he smiles gracefully
At the other little one he thinks he sees.
Ah! Come to the poor stable:
Your soul is a shining crystal;
Reflect the adorable Word,
The charms of the God made child…
Yes, be the living image,
The pure mirror of your Spouse;
The divine radiance of his Face,
He wants to contemplate it in you!
A palace.

⁷ The great, the nobles of the earth
All have sumptuous palaces;
Hovels are, on the contrary,
asylums for the unfortunate.
So, see in a stable
The little poor man of Christmas:
He veils his ineffable glory
As he leaves his palace in heaven.
Poverty, your heart loves it,
In it you find peace;
Also, it is your heart itself
that Jesus wants for his palace!
A crown of lilies.

⁸ Sinners crown with thorns
The kind head of Jesus.
Admire the divine graces
That the earth no longer knows…
Oh! May your virginal soul
make Him forget His pains;
And, for his royal crown,
Offer him the virgins, your sisters.
Approach very close to his throne…
To charm his ravishing eyes,
Before him, braid his crown:
Form it with beautiful brilliant lilies!

⁹ The following stanzas are sung to the tune of Le Passant. (MASSENET.)
Candy.

¹⁰ My sister, the little babies
really like sweets;
So fill it quickly,
From Jesus the white hand.
To this gift, the divine Child
By his gaze invites you.

¹¹ The pralines of Carmel
Which charm the King of heaven,
These are all your sacrifices.
My sister, your austerity,
Your great poverty,
are the delight of Jesus!
A caress.

¹² From you, little Jesus
asks for nothing more than
a very gentle caress.
Give him all your love;
And you will know in return
The charity that urges him.

¹³ If one of your sisters
were to cry,
Immediately, with tenderness,
Beg the divine Child,
That, with his little hand, he
gently caresses her.
A cradle.

¹⁴ On earth there are few hearts
that do not aspire to the favors
of Jesus, the King of glory;
But, if he falls asleep,
They stop serving him,
By no longer wanting to believe.

¹⁵ If you knew the pleasure
That the Child finds in sleeping
Without fear of being woken,
You would serve as a cradle
For Jesus, the gentle Lamb,
Smiling when he sleeps!
Swaddles.

¹⁶ See that the kind Child,
With his charming little finger,
Shows you the dry straw.
Ah! Understand his love,
And garnish this day,
With swaddling clothes, the poor crib.

¹⁷ Always excusing your sisters,
You will win the favors
of Jesus, the King of Angels;
It is the ardent charity,
The amiable simplicity
That he demands for his swaddling clothes.
Fire.

¹⁸ My sister, little Jesus,
The sweet home of the elect,
Trembles with cold in the stable…
However, in the beautiful blue sky,
Angels, flames of fire,
Serve the adorable Word!
But, on earth, you are
the home of your Spouse…
He asks you for your flames.
It is you who must, my sister,
To warm the Savior,
Set all souls on fire!
A cake.

¹⁹ You know that every child
Prefers a shiny cake
To the glory of an empire.
So offer the King of heaven
a delicious cake,
and you will see him smile.

²⁰ Do you know, from the King of kings,
What is the cake of choice?
It is prompt obedience!
Your Spouse delights you,
When you obey
Like him, in his childhood.
Of honey.

²¹ At the first lights of the morning,
Forming its rich spoils,
We see the little bee
Flying from flower to flower,
Visiting with happiness
The corollas that it awakens.

²² Thus, gather love:
And come back every day,
Near the sacred crib,
Offer to the divine Savior
The honey of your fervor,
Little golden bee!
A lamb.

²³ To charm the gentle Lamb,
Keep no more flocks;
And, abandoning everything,
Think only of delighting him;
Desire to serve him well,
All the time he rests.

²⁴ O my sister, from today,
Abandon yourself to him,
And you will sleep together…
Mary, going to the cradle,
Will see near her Lamb
A lamb that resembles him!

²⁵ The Angel, having once again taken the Child Jesus in his arms, sings the following:
Air: “SO BE IT.”” Every morning in his prayer… (Rupés.)

²⁶ The divine Child thanks you;
He is delighted with all your gifts.
Also, in his Book of life,
He writes them with your names.

²⁷ Jesus found his delights
in this Carmel;
And to pay for your sacrifices,
He has his beautiful sky!

²⁸ If you are always faithful
To satisfy this sweet Treasure,
Love will give you wings
To fly with sublime flight!

²⁹ One day, in the holy homeland,
After the exile,
You will see Jesus and Mary:
So be it!

47. #

¹ Angels in the Manger.
PIOUS RECREATION
——
The Angel of the Child Jesus.
(Role fulfilled by Sr Thérèse.)
Air: Fell from the nest.

² O Word-God! Glory of the Father!
I contemplated you in the sky;
Now I see on earth
The Most High become mortal!
Child, whose light floods
The Angels of the brilliant abode,
Jesus, you come to save the world,
Who will understand your love?

³ O God in swaddling clothes,
You delight the Angels!
Word made child,
Towards you, I bow trembling.

⁴ Who will understand this mystery:
A God becomes a little child?
He comes to exile on earth,
He, the Eternal, the Almighty!
Divine Jesus, supreme beauty,
I want to respond to your love:
To testify how much I love you,
I will watch over you night and day.

⁵ The brightness of your swaddling clothes
Attracts the Angels;
Word made child,
Towards you I bow, trembling.

⁶ Since this stay of tears
Possesses the King of the elect,
For me, the heavens no longer have charms,
And I have flown to you, Jesus!
I want to cover you with my wings,
follow you everywhere down here;
And all the most beautiful flowers,
I will sow them under your feet.

⁷ I want to form a cradle for you with a bright star,
Child;
And, from the dazzling snow,
Make you a graceful curtain.
I want, from the distant mountains,
to lower the heights for you;
I want the countryside
to produce heavenly flowers for you.

⁸ From God, the flower is the smile;
It is the distant echo of the sky,
The fleeting sound of the lyre
Which the Eternal holds in his hand.
This melodious note
Of the goodness of the Creator
Wants, with its mysterious voice,
to Glorify the Savior God.

⁹ Sweet melody,
Sweet harmony,
Silence of flowers,
Of a God you sing the greatness!

¹⁰ I know that your dear friends,
Jesus, are the living flowers…
You come from the celestial meadows
To seek souls, your sisters.
A soul is the embalmed flower,
Child, that you would like to pick;
Your little hand sowed it
And for her you want to die!

¹¹ Ineffable mystery!
The adorable Word
Will shed tears
As it gathers its harvest of flowers!

49. #

¹ The Angel of the Holy Face.
Air: Divine incense.
——
Divine Jesus, in the morning of your life,
Your beautiful Face is bathed in tears!
Tears of love, on the blessed Face,
You will flow sorrows until the evening…

² Divine Face,
Yes, your beauty,
For the Angel erases
The celestial clarity!

³ I recognize, from your divine Face
All the attractions, on this bloody veil;
I recognize, Jesus, in this image,
the pure radiance of your childish Face.

⁴ Divine Jesus, suffering is dear to you,
Your sweet gaze penetrates the future:
You already want to drink the bitter cup;
In your love, you dream of dying!

⁵ Ineffable dream!
One day old child,
adorable face,
You set me on fire with love!

50. #

¹ The Angel of the Resurrection.
Tune: Christmas! Christmas! Let’s say Christmas!
——
Cry no more, Angels of the Savior God,
I come from heaven to console your heart.
This weak Child
One day will be powerful;
He will rise again,
And will reign forever.

² O God hidden in the guise of a child,
I see you radiant,
And already triumphant!

³ I will raise the stone from the tomb,
And, contemplating your face so beautiful,
I will sing
And rejoice,
seeing you with my eyes
Raising you glorious!

⁴ I see divine splendors shining
in Your child’s eyes, this evening wet with tears.
Word of God,
Your word of fire
Must resound one day
Consuming love!

51. #

¹ The Angel of the Eucharist.
Air: By the most magnificent songs.
——
Contemplate, beautiful Angel, my brother,
Our King ascending towards heaven;
I come down to this earth
To adore him at the holy altar.
Veiled in his Eucharist,
I recognize the Almighty,
I see the Master of life
Much smaller than a humble child.

² Ah! From now on, at the sanctuary
I want to establish my stay,
Offering to the Most High my prayer,
The hymn of my ardent love.
On my melodious lyre,
I will sing of the Savior God,
And the delicious Manna
Which nourishes the soul of the sinner!

³ May I not, by a miracle,
also nourish myself with this Bread!
Ah! What can I not at the Tabernacle,
Take my share of the divine Blood!
At least, to the loving and holy soul,
I will communicate my fires,
So that, without the slightest fear,
It approaches the King of heaven.

52. #

¹ The Angel of Last Judgment.
Tune: Noël (from Adam).
——
Soon the day of vengeance will come,
This impure world will pass through fire.
All mortals will hear the sentence
that will come from the mouth of God.
We will see him in the brightness of his glory,
No longer hidden in the guise of a child,
We will be there to sing his victory,
And proclaim that he is the Almighty!

² They will shine with ineffable brilliance,
These eyes veiled in tears and blood.
We will see this adorable Face,
In the splendor of its radiance!
On the cloud, seeing Jesus appear,
carrying the scepter of his cross:
The impious, then, will be able to recognize
this King, this Judge, by the loudness of his voice!

³ You will tremble, inhabitants of the earth;
You will tremble on your last day!
No longer able to support the anger
Of this Child, today God of love.
For you, mortals, he chooses suffering,
Claiming only your weak heart;
At the judgment you will see his power,
You will tremble before the avenging God.
All Angels, except the Angel of Last Judgment.

⁴ Air: O Heart of our amiable Mother.

⁵ Oh! Deign to listen to the prayer
of your Angels, divine Jesus!
You who come to redeem the earth,
Take up the defense of the elected.

⁶ From your hand, ah! Break this sword,
Appease this angry Angel!
Beautiful Child, let your voice be raised
To save the humble and gentle heart.

53. #

Christmas 1894.

¹ The Child Jesus.
Air: Little bird, say, where are you going?
——
Comfort yourself, faithful Angels;
You alone, for the first time,
Far from the eternal hills,
Of the Word, will listen to the voice:

² I cherish you, oh pure flames!
Angels of the heavenly abode!
But, like you, I love souls,
I love them with a great love.

³ I made them for myself,
I made their infinite desires;
The smallest soul that loves me
Becomes paradise for me.

⁴ The Angel of the Child Jesus asks him to gather from the earth an abundant harvest of innocent souls, before they are tarnished by the impure breath of sin.
Response from the Child Jesus.

⁵ O beautiful Angel of my childhood!
I will grant your ardent wishes:
I will know how to keep innocence
In the souls of little children.

⁶ I will pick them at dawn,
Charming buds, full of freshness;
In heaven you will see them hatching
Under the pure rays of my Heart.

⁷ Their beautiful silver corolla,
Brighter than a thousand lights,
Will form the milky road
From the starry azure of the heavens.

⁸ I want lilies for my crown,
I, Jesus, the beautiful Lily of the field,
And I want, to form my throne,
A sheaf of brilliant lilies.

⁹ The Angel of the Holy Face asks for forgiveness from sinners.
Response from the Child Jesus.

¹⁰ You who contemplate my Face
In a rapture of love,
And who, to keep my image,
Left the celestial abode,

¹¹ I want to hear your prayer:
Every soul will obtain its forgiveness,
I will fill it with light,
As soon as she calls my Name.

¹² O you who wanted on earth
to honor my cross, my pain;
Beautiful Angel, listen to this mystery:
Every soul that suffers is your sister.

¹³ In heaven, the radiance of his suffering
will shine on your forehead;
And the ray of your essence
Will illuminate the martyr.

¹⁴ The Angel of the Eucharist asks what he can do to console him for the ingratitude of men.
Response from the Child Jesus.

¹⁵ Angel of my Eucharist,
It is you who will charm my Heart;
Yes, it is your sweet melody
That will console my pain.

¹⁶ I thirst to give myself to souls;
But many hearts are languishing:
Seraphim, give them your flames,
Attract them with your sweet songs.

¹⁷ I would like the soul of the priest
to resemble the Angel of heaven!
Ah! I wish he could be reborn
Before going up to the altar.

¹⁸ In order to perform this miracle,
it is necessary that, burning with love,
souls, near the Tabernacle,
immolate themselves night and day.

¹⁹ The Angel of the Resurrection asks what will become of the poor exiles of the earth when the Savior has ascended to heaven.
Response from the Child Jesus.

²⁰ I will go back to my Father,
that I may draw my chosen ones;
After exile from this land,
In my Heart they will be received.

²¹ When the last hour strikes,
I will gather my flock;
And, in the heavenly abode,
I will serve as his torch.
The Angel of Last Judgment.
Will you forget, Jesus, supreme goodness,
that the sinner must finally be punished?
Will you forget, in your extreme love,
that the number of ungrateful people is infinite?
At the judgment I will punish the crime,
And my fury will be able to vent.
My sword is ready!… Jesus, sweet Victim,
My sword is ready; I will come to avenge you!
The Child Jesus.
O beautiful Angel, lower your sword,
It is not for you to judge
The nature that I raise:
Of peace, I am Messenger.

²² The one who will judge the world:
It is I… who is called Jesus!
Of my blood, the fertile source
Will purify all my elect.

²³ Do you know that faithful souls
will console me every day
for the blasphemies of the infidels,
with a simple look of love?

²⁴ Also, in the holy country,
My elect will be glorious;
And, communicating to them my life,
I will make them like so many gods.

²⁵ The Angel of Last Judgment.
Air: God of peace and love.

²⁶ Before you, sweet Child, the Cherub bows:
He admires, distraught, your ineffable love,
He would like, like you, on the dark hill
To be able to die one day!

²⁷ CHORUS - Sung by all the Angels.
How great is the happiness of the humble creature! The Seraphim would like, in his rapture, to abandon, O Jesus, the angelic nature, and to become a child…

54. #

¹ The flight into Egypt.
Pious recreation (Fragment).
The Angel warns Saint Joseph.
Air: The crazy girl from the beach.
——
Towards Egypt, very quickly,
We must flee! …
Joseph, from this night on,
Move away quietly.

² Herod, in his fury,
seeks the new King:
He wants to take the life
of this divine Lamb.

³ Take the Mother and the Child,
Flee quickly!

55. #

¹ Song of the Angels accompanying the Holy Family.
Air: Venetian gondoliers.
——
Ineffable mystery!
Jesus, the King of heaven,
Exiled on earth,
Flees before a mortal!
To this God in swaddling clothes,
Let us offer all our love;
May our white phalanxes
come to form his court.

² Let’s cover it with our wings
And the most beautiful flowers;
Far our joyful concerts,
Let us rock the King of the skies.
To console his Mother,
Let us sing with mystery
The charms of the Savior,
His grace and his gentleness!

³ Ah! Let’s leave this shore,
Far from the storm,
Let’s flee this night,
Far from all noise.

⁴ The Virgin under her veil
Hides our star:
The star of the elect,
The Child Jesus.

⁵ The King of Heaven
Flees before a mortal! …

56. #

January 21, 1896.

¹ The Angel of the Desert.
Air: from the Creed of Herculaneum.
——
I come to sing, from the Holy Family,
The divine radiance which attracts me to these places;
In the desert, this shining star
charms Me more than the glory of the heavens.
Ah! Who will be able to understand this mystery:
Among his own, Jesus is rejected!
He is a wanderer, a traveler on earth,
And no one knows how to discover his beauty.

² But, if the great fear your empire,
O King of the sky, mysterious Star!
For a long time more than one heart has desired you,
You are the hope of all the unfortunate.
Eternal Word, O profound Wisdom!
You pour out your ineffable gifts
On the little ones, the weak of this world:
And in the sky you write their names.

³ If you share wisdom
with the ignorant, if he is humble in heart,
it is because every soul is made in your image.
You call, you save the sinner!
The day will come that in the same meadow,
The lamb will graze gently near the lion;
And the desert, your only homeland,
will hear your Name more than once.

⁴ O hidden God! Virginal souls,
Burning with zeal in the hearth of love,
They will rush in your royal footsteps,
And the deserts will one day be populated.
These ardent hearts, these seraphic souls
Will rejoice all the Angels of heaven,
And the humble accent of their divine canticles
Will make the dark abyss tremble.

⁵ In his fury, his base jealousy,
Satan will want to depopulate the deserts;
He does not know the infinite power
Of the weak Child unknown to the universe.
He does not know that the fervent virgin
Always finds rest in his heart;
He does not know how powerful
this soul is, united to its divine Savior!

⁶ Perhaps one day your beloved wives
Will share your exile, O my God!
But the sinners who banish them,
Their love will not quench the fire.
From the impure world the sacrilegious hatred
Will not reach the virgins of the Lord
Until it stains their clothing with snow,
Until it tarnishes their celestial whiteness.

⁷ O ungrateful world, your reign is already passing;
Don’t you see that this little Child
Joyfully picks the palm of martyrdom,
The golden rose, the dazzling lily?
Do you not see that his faithful virgins
Hold in their hands the lamp of love?
Do you not see the eternal doors,
Which, for the saints, must one day open?

⁸ Happy moment! O pure happiness,
When the elect, appearing glorious,
For their love will receive in exchange
Eternity to love in heaven!
After exile, no more suffering,
But the rest of the heavenly home;
After exile, no more faith, no more hope,
Nothing but peace, the ecstasy of love!

57. #

July 29, 1895.

¹ Jesus in Bethany. Pious recreation.
Air: The Angel and the Blind Man.
——
Mary Magdalene:

² O God, my divine Master,
Jesus, my only love!
At your feet I want to be,
I fix my stay there.
In vain on this earth
I searched for happiness.
Only bitter sadness
has filled my heart…

³ Jesus:

⁴ Mary, oh Madeleine!
I am your sweet Savior!
Forgetting all sorrow,
Enjoy your happiness.
Your regrets are extreme,
And my Heart tells you again:
I know very well that you love me.
Your love is enough for me!

⁵ Mary Magdalene:

⁶ It’s too much, my good Master,
I feel faint…
May I not be reborn
on this day, or die!
Understand my alarms,
O Jesus, my Savior!
I made your tears flow:
What immense pain!

⁷ Jesus:

⁸ It is true, on your soul
I have shed tears;
But with a single ray of flame,
You can change hearts.
Your soul, rejuvenated
by my divine gaze, will bless me without end
in eternal life!

⁹ Mary Magdalene:

¹⁰ Jesus, your very love
Comes to tear my heart,
Your supreme goodness
Increases my pain;
I misunderstood your charms
And, in my repentance,
I have only tears, Lord, to offer you!

¹¹ Jesus:

¹² These precious tears shine brighter in my eyes than the numerous pearls that sparkle in the heavens.
To the charming star Radiant in the azure,
I prefer the lover With a heart that has become pure.

¹³ Mary Magdalene:

¹⁴ What an astonishing mystery!
O my divine Savior,
Is there nothing on earth that charms your Heart?
The distant mountains,
The white and sweet lamb,
The flowers of our countryside,
Is there anything more beautiful?

¹⁵ Jesus:

¹⁶ You see the flower blooming
And its charming shine;
For me, I see the rose
Of your ardent love.
This purple rose knew
how to delight my heart;
It is my favorite
Among all other flowers.

¹⁷ Mary Magdalene:

¹⁸ The bird, with its pure voice,
Sings your greatness;
The murmuring stream
Gives you its freshness;
The lily of the valley
offers you its treasure:
Its starry whiteness
Of fine golden pearls.
Jesus.

¹⁹ Solomon, in his glory,
Was less well adorned
On his ivory throne
Than this beautiful pearly lily;
The simple daisies
Surpass the great king,
And all these flowers
only bloom for you.

²⁰ Mary Magdalene:

²¹ Of the virginal procession
offering you its love,
The white coat of snow
Will shine without return…
I, of a sad life,
I offer you the end;
Alas! I withered her
Again in her morning! …

²² Jesus:

²³ If I love, of dawn,
The pure and brilliant lights:
Mary… ah! I still love
A Beautiful Radiant Evening.
My unequaled goodness
Will place the sinner
And the virginal soul
Together on my Heart!