A person of some consideration, and one who made much profession of living
a devout life, was overtaken by sudden misfortune, which deprived her of
almost all her wealth and left her plunged in grief. Her distress of mind
was so inconsolable that it led her to complain of the Providence of God,
who appeared, she said, to have forgotten her. All her faithful service and
the purity of her life seemed to have been in vain.
Blessed Francis, full of compassionate sympathy for her misfortunes, and
anxious to turn her thoughts from the contemplation of herself and of
earthly things, to fix them on God, asked her if He was not more to her
than anything; nay, if, in fact, God was not Himself everything to her;
and if, having loved Him when He had given her many things, she was not
now ready to love Him, though she received nothing from Him. She, however,
replying that such language was more speculative than practical, and
easier to speak than to carry into effect, he wound up by saying, with St.
Augustine: _Too avaricious is that heart to which God does not suffice._
"Assuredly, he who is not satisfied with God is covetous indeed." This word
_covetous_ produced a powerful effect upon the heart of one who, in the
days of her prosperity, had always hated avarice, and had been most lavish
in her expenditure, both on her own needs and pleasures and on works of
mercy. It seemed as if suddenly the eyes of her soul were opened, and she
saw how admirable, how infinitely worthy of love God ever remained, whether
with those things she had possessed or without them. So, by degrees, she
forgot herself and her crosses; grace prevailed, and she knew and confessed
that God was all in all to her. Such efficacy have a Saint's words, even if
unpremeditated.