Where would be your merit if you must fight only when you felt
the courage? What matters it if you have none, provided that you
act as if you had! If you feel too slothful to pick up a bit of
thread, and that nevertheless you do it for the love of Jesus,
you have more merit than if in a moment of fervour you were to
accomplish something of far greater importance. So instead of
being sorrowful, rejoice to see that in letting you feel your
weakness the good Master provides you with an opportunity of
gaining for Him a greater number of souls."
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
BEING questioned as to her mode of sanctifying the repasts,
Thérèse made answer:
"In the refectory we have but one only thing to do: to
accomplish this so lowly act with thoughts uplifted. I declare
to you that often it is in the refectory the sweetest
aspirations of love come to me. Sometimes I am impelled to dwell
on the thought that if our Divine Lord were in my place, with
the fare set before Him as served to me, He would certainly
partake of it . . . It is very probable that during His life on
earth He tasted of the like food: _He ate bread, fruits,
etc_. . . .
"Here are my simple little rubrics:
"I picture myself at Nazareth in the house of Holy Family. If I
am served with, for instance, salad, cold fish, wine or anything
of strong flavour, I offer it to St. Joseph. To the Blessed
Virgin I give the hot portions, well-ripened fruits, etc.; and
the feast-day fare, particularly corn-flour, rice, preserves,
these I offer to the Child Jesus. Lastly, when a bad dinner is
brought me I say gaily to myself: 'Today, my dear little child,
all that is for you.'"
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
ONE fast-day when the Mother Prioress had ordered some special
little thing by way of alleviation for Sœur Thérèse, a Sister
relates that she surprised her in the act of seasoning this too
palatable fare with wormwood.
Another time she saw her slowly drinking some particularly
disagreeable physic, and exclaimed: "But be quick, drink that
off at one draught!" "Oh no!" was the reply, "must I not take
advantage of the trifling opportunities I meet with, to mortify
myself a little, since it is forbidden me to look for greater?"
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
AN extremely interesting letter had been read one day at the
recreation in the absence of Thérèse who later showed a desire
to read it. Some time afterwards when returning the letter, she
was begged to say what she thought regarding something which
should especially have delighted her. She appeared embarrassed
and then replied:
"The good God has asked of me this sacrifice because of the
eagerness that I manifested the other day; I have not read
it. . ."
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
SHE told the novices: "At recreation more than elsewhere will
you find occasions for the exercise of virtue. If you would reap
great benefit, never go to it with any thought of your own
recreation, but thinking of the recreation of others; practise
therein total detachment from yourself. If, for instance, you
are relating to one of the Sisters a story which seems to you
interesting, and that she interrupts it to tell you something
else, even though this may not at all interest you, listen to
her as if it did, and do not try to return to your first
subject. By so acting, you will go from the recreation room with
great interior peace, and endued with fresh vigour in the
practice of virtue, all because you have not sought to gratify
yourself but to give pleasure to others. If one only knew what
is gained by renouncing self in all things! . . ."
"You know it well; you have always acted thus?"
"Yes, I have forgotten self, I have tried not to seek myself in
anything."
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
OBEDIENCE
AS I had self-love as well as the love of what is right it was
sufficient but once to tell me: "Such a thing should not be
done," and I would have no desire to do it again.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. I
FROM what anxieties do we not free ourselves by making the vow
of obedience! How happy are single-minded religious. Their sole
guide being the will of Superiors, they are ever secure of going
the right way without fear of error, should it even appear to
them certain that the Superiors are mistaken. But when one
ceases to consult the sure compass, the soul forthwith loses her
way in arid paths where the waters of grace soon fail her.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX
DURING her illness the Infirmarian had recommended Sœur Thérèse
to take a little walk in the garden every day for a quarter of
an hour. For her, this advice was a command. One afternoon, a
Sister seeing her walk with much difficulty said to her: "You
would do far better to rest; in such circumstances walking can
do you no good, you exhaust yourself, that is all."
"It is true," replied this child of Obedience, "but do you know
what gives me strength? . . . Well! _I walk for a Missionary_. I
think how some one of them far away, yonder, is perhaps
exhausted in his apostolic journeyings, and to lessen his
fatigue I offer mine to the good God."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
POVERTY
AFTER I was clothed with the holy Habit abundant lights on
religious perfection were granted me, chiefly regarding the vow
of poverty. During my postulate I was pleased to have for my
use, anything that was nice, and to find at my hand whatever was
necessary. Jesus bore with this patiently, for He does not like
to disclose all to the soul at once. He ordinarily gives His
light little by little.
After Compline one evening I looked in vain for our lantern on
the shelves appointed for them; it was the time of great
silence, not possible therefore to ask for it back. I rightly
supposed that a Sister believing she took her own had carried
away ours; but must I spend a whole hour in the dark in
consequence of this mistake? And just that evening I had
intended doing much work. Without the interior light of grace I
should assuredly have bewailed my loss, but with that light,
instead of experiencing vexation I was happy in thinking that
poverty consists in being deprived not only of things desirable,
but of those also that are indispensable. And in the exterior
darkness I found my soul illumined with divine light.
I was seized at this time with a genuine love for what was
ugliest and least convenient, thus I was delighted when I saw
the pretty little jug carried off from our cell, and received in
its stead a large one, all chipped.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VII
A NOVICE expressed regret for having lent a pin which was very
serviceable to her:
"Oh! how rich you are," replied Thérèse, "you cannot be happy."
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
_"MAKE haste and come down: for this day I must abide in thy
house."_ [1] Jesus tells us to come down; where, then, must we
go? . . . At an earlier time the Jews asked Him: _"Master, where
dwellest Thou."_ [2] And He said: _"The foxes have holes, and
the birds of the air nests; but the Son of Man hath not where to
lay His head."_ [3] Behold whereunto we must descend if we would
serve as dwellings for Jesus: we must be so poor that we have
not where to lay our head.
XIII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
[1] Luke, xix, 5
[2] John, i, 38.
[3] Luke, ix, 58.
CONFIDENCE
WHAT offends Jesus, what wounds Him to the Heart, is want of
confidence.
I LETTER TO HER COUSIN MARIE GUERIN
BELIEVING that I was born for glory, and seeking the means to
attain to it, it was revealed to me interiorly that my glory
would never be visible to mortal eyes but would consist in
becoming a saint. This desire might well seem presumptuously
bold, considering how imperfect I was, and how imperfect I am
still after so many years in religion; and yet I feel ever the
same audacious confidence of becoming a great saint. I count not
on my merits, having none; but I trust in Him who is Virtue and
Holiness itself. He alone it is who satisfied with my feeble
efforts will raise me up even unto Himself, will clothe me with
His merits and make me a saint.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV
OURS is an age of inventions: nowadays, with the rich a lift
saves the trouble of climbing the stairs. And I, fain would I
too find a _lift_ to bear me up unto God, for I am too little to
climb the rugged steps of perfection.
Then I turned to the Holy Scriptures, seeking from them an
indication of this _lift_, the object of my desires; and I read
these words which have issued from the very mouth of the Eternal
Wisdom: _"Whosoever is a_ VERY LITTLE ONE, _let him come to
me."_ [1] Then I drew nigh unto God divining truly that I had
discovered what I sought: wishing however to know what He would
do with the very little one, I continued my research and here is
what I found: _"You shall be carried at the breast and upon the
knees; as one whom the mother caresseth so will I comfort you."_
[2]
Ah, never came words more sweet, more tender, to gladden my
soul. Thine arms then, O Jesus, are the _lift_ which must raise
me up even unto Heaven! For this I need not grow, on the
contrary I must remain little, I must ever tend to become yet
more little. O my God, Thou hast gone beyond my expectations,
and I--I will sing Thy mercies! _Thou hast taught me, O God from
my youth: and till now I have declared Thy wondrous works. And
unto old age and grey hairs_ [3] will I proclaim them.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX
[1] Prov., ix, 4.
[2] Is., lxvi, 12, 13.
[3] _Cf_. Ps., lxx. 17, 18.
SINCE it has been given to me too, to understand the love of the
Heart of Jesus, I own that it has chased all fear from mine! The
remembrance of my faults humiliates me, and urges me never to
depend upon my own strength which is nothing but weakness: still
more does this remembrance speak to me of mercy and of love.
When, with all filial confidence we cast our faults into the
devouring furnace of love, how should they not be totally
consumed?
V LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
THOUGH we must needs be pure indeed to appear in the presence of
the God of all Holiness, yet I know too that He is infinitely
just; and this justice which affrights so many souls is the
ground of my joy and my confidence. Justice not merely exercises
severity towards the offender; it moreover recognizes a right
intention, and awards to virtue its recompense. 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 merciful,
long-suffering and plenteous in mercy. For He knoweth our frame.
He remembereth that we are but dust. As a father hath compassion
on His children, so hath the Lord compassion on us!"_ [4] . . .
Listening to these beautiful and consoling words of the Royal
Prophet, how can we doubt but that the good God will open the
portals of His Kingdom to His children who have loved Him even
unto sacrificing all for Him, who have not only left their
kindred and their country, for the sake of making Him known and
loved, but, still further, desire to give their life for
Him? . . . Most truly has Jesus said that there is no greater
love than this! How then could He suffer Himself to be outdone
in generosity? How could He purify in the flames of Purgatory
souls consumed by the fire of Divine Love? . . .
That is what I think of the justice of the good God; my way is
all confidence and love, I do not understand those souls who
fear so tender a Friend.
VI LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
[4] Ps., cii, 8, 13, 14.
THAT joy to think that God is just, that is to say, that He
takes our weakness into consideration, that He thoroughly knows
the frailty of our nature. Of what then, should I be afraid?
Must not the good and infinitely just God, who with such tender
mercy deigns to pardon the Prodigal Son, must He not be just
towards me too--_who am always with Him?_ [5]
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII
[5] Luke, xv, 31.
I WANT to make you understand by a very simple comparison how
much Jesus loves souls, even the imperfect, who trust in Him.
Suppose the father of two wayward and disobedient children,
coming to punish them, sees one tremble and draw away from him
in terror; while the other, on the contrary, throwing himself
into his arms, says he is sorry, promises to be good
henceforward and begs for a kiss as punishment. Do you think the
delighted father will withstand the filial confidence of this
child? He knows nevertheless that his son will fall again many a
time into the same faults, but he is disposed to pardon him
always, if always there be an appeal to his heart.
I say nothing of the other child: you must understand that his
father cannot love him as much or treat him with the same
indulgence.
VIII LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
TRULY the Heart of Jesus is more grieved by the thousand little
imperfections of His friends than by even grave faults of His
enemies. But it seems to me that it is only when His own chosen
ones make a habit of these infidelities, and do not ask His
pardon, that He can say: _"These wounds which you see in the
midst of My Hands: with these was I wounded in the house of them
that loved Me."_ [6]
For those who love Him and who come after each little fault and
throw themselves into His arms, begging His forgiveness, the
Heart of Jesus thrills 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."_ [7] Oh! the goodness and the
merciful love of the Heart of Jesus, how little is it known!
True it is, that to share in these treasures we must humble
ourselves, must acknowledge our nothingness, and that is what
many souls are unwilling to do.
VII LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
[6] _Cf_. Zach., xiii, 6.
[7] _Cf_. Luke, xv, 22.
OUR dreams, our desires of perfection are not vain imaginations,
since Jesus Himself has given us this commandment, He said: _"Be
you, therefore, perfect, as also your Heavenly Father is
perfect."_ [8]
II LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
[8] Matt., v, 48.
TRULY I am far from being a saint. I ought not to rejoice at the
aridity of my soul, but attribute it to the scantiness of my
fervour and fidelity. I ought to grieve because I fall asleep
very often during my prayer and my thanksgiving. Well, I do not
grieve! I reflect that little children when they sleep are as
pleasing to their parents as when they are awake; that in order
to perform operations, doctors put their patients to sleep; in
fine, that _the Lord knoweth our frame, He remembereth that we
are but dust._ [9]
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII
[9] Ps., cii, 14.
I HAVE no fear of the last combats, nor of the physical
suffering how great soever it may be. The good God has always
come to my assistance, He has helped me and led me by the hand
from my earliest years . . . I count on Him . . . my sufferings
may reach their furthest limits, but I am sure that He will
never abandon me.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
IT is confidence, and confidence alone, that must lead us to
Love . . . Does not fear lead us rather to think of the rigid
justice by which sinners are warned? But that is not the justice
that Jesus will show to those who love Him.
VI LETTER TO SŒUR DU SACRÉ-CŒUR
O JESUS, suffer me to tell Thee that Thy Love reacheth even unto
folly . . . What wilt Thou, in face of this folly, but that my
heart dart upwards to Thee--how can my confidence have any
bounds?
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI
IT is not because I have been shielded from mortal sin that I
lift up my heart to God in trust and love. I feel that even if
there lay upon my conscience all the crimes one could commit I
should lose nothing of my confidence. Brokenhearted with
compunction I would go and throw myself into the arms of my
Saviour. I know that He cherished the Prodigal Son, I have heard
His words to Mary Magdalene, to the adultress, to the Samaritan
woman. No one could frighten me, for I know what to believe
concerning His Mercy and His Love. I know that in one moment all
that multitude of sins would disappear--as a drop of water cast
into a red-hot furnace.
It is related in the Lives of the Fathers of the Desert that one
of them converted a public sinner whose misdeeds scandalized the
whole country. Touched by grace this sinful woman was following
the saint into the desert, there to do rigorous penance, when,
on the first night of her journey, before she had even reached
the place of her retreat, the bonds of life were broken by the
impetuosity of her loving contrition. The holy hermit at the
same moment saw her soul borne by Angels into the Bosom of God.
That is truly a striking instance of what I want to express, but
one cannot put these things into words. . .
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI
HAPPY indeed am I to die and go to Heaven, but when I think on
those words of our Lord: _"Behold, I come quickly, and My reward
is with Me, to render to every man according to his works,"_
[10] I reflect that He will be very much embarrassed as regards
me: I have no works . . . Well, He will render to me ACCORDING
TO HIS OWN WORKS!
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
[10] Apoc., xxii, 12.
[Picture of Saint Thérèse.]
THE SERVANT OF GOD
THERESE OF THE CHILD JESUS
_The Little Flower of Jesus!_
ONE evening as they were telling her something which had been
said at recreation, touching the responsibility of those who
have the charge of souls, Sœur Thérèse de l'Enfant Jésus spoke
these beautiful words: _"'To him that is little, mercy is
granted.'_ [11] It is possible to remain _little_, even in the
most important offices; and is it not written that at the end
_the Lord will arise to save the meek and humble of the earth?_
[12] It says not to _judge_ but to _save_."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
[11] Wisdom, vi, 7.
[12] _Cf_. Ps., lxxv, 10.
A NOVICE questioning as to whether our Lord were not
dissatisfied with her on account of her many miseries, Sœur
Thérèse made answer:
"Set your mind at rest: He whom you have chosen as your Spouse
possesses certainly every perfection that can be desired; but,
if I may dare to say it, He has at the same time one great
infirmity: _He is blind!_ And there is a science which He knows
not, that of _calculation_. These two points which would be most
lamentable deficiencies in an earthly spouse, render ours
infinitely lovable. Were He to consider our sins and reckon with
them, do you not think that in the face of all these sins He
would cast us back into nothingness? But no, His love for us
makes Him absolutely blind!
"See for yourself: if the greatest sinner on earth, at the hour
of death repent of his transgressions and expire in an act of
love, immediately, without calculating on the one hand the
numerous graces abused by this unhappy man, nor on the other,
all his crimes, Jesus sees nothing, counts nothing, but the
penitent's last prayer, and delays not to receive him into the
arms of His Mercy.
"But to render Him thus blind, to hinder Him from doing the
least little bit of reckoning, we must know how to lay siege to
His Heart; at that point He is defenceless. . ."
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
TO another, who bitterly repented of a fault just committed,
Sœur Thérèse said:
"Take your Crucifix and kiss it."
The novice kissed the feet.
"Is that how a child embraces her Father? Put your arms round
His Neck immediately and kiss His Face."
She obeyed.
"That is not all, He must return your caresses."
And she had to hold the Crucifix to each cheek; then Thérèse
said:
"That is well, now all is forgiven!"
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
HAVING caused her pain, a novice went to ask pardon of Sœur
Thérèse, who replied with emotion: "If you only knew what I
feel! Never have I so well understood with what love Jesus
receives us, when, after a fault we beg Him to forgive us. If I,
His poor little creature, feel such tenderness for you the
moment you return to me, what must pass in the Heart of the good
God when we return to Him? . . . Yes, surely, more swiftly yet
than I have just done, will He forget all our iniquities, never
again to remember them . . . He will do even more--He will love
us still better than before our fault! . . . "
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
SELF-ABANDONMENT
I CANNOT think without rapture of the dear little Saint Cæcilia:
what a model! In the midst of a pagan world, in the heart of
danger, at the moment when about to be united to a mortal who
sought none but earthly love, it seems to me that she ought to
have trembled and wept. But no, _while her bridal was celebrated
with joyful melody Cæcilia was singing in her heart_. [1] What
abandonment to God! Without doubt she listened to other melodies
than those of earth; her Divine Spouse, He too, was singing, and
Angel choirs sang again the refrain of one most blessed night:
_"Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men of good
will."_ [2]
The glory of God!--Oh! Cæcilia understood it; most earnestly did
she long for it. She divined that her Jesus was athirst for
souls . . . that is why her whole desire was that she might lead
speedily to Him the soul of the young Roman, who dreamed of
naught but human glory: this wise Virgin will make of him a
martyr, and multitudes will follow in his footprints. She fears
nothing: the Angels have promised and have sung of peace. She
knows that the Prince of Peace is bound to protect her, to
shield her virginity and to give to her its recompense. _"O how
beautiful is the chaste generation!"_ [3]
XVII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
[1] Office of St. Cæcilia.
[2] Luke, ii, 14.
[3] Wisdom, iv, I.
I HAD offered myself to the Child Jesus to be _His little
plaything_. I had told Him not to use me like a costly toy which
children are pleased to look at without daring to touch; but as
He would a little ball of no value, that He might throw to the
ground, toss about, pierce, leave in a corner, or else press to
His Heart if so it pleased Him. In a word _I wanted to amuse the
little Jesus, and to give myself up to all His childlike
fancies._
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VI
MY heart is entirely filled with the will of Jesus; therefore
when anything over and above falls to its share, this does not
penetrate to its depths; it is a mere nothing which easily
glides by, as oil on the surface of limpid water. Ah! if my
heart were not filled up beforehand, had it to be filled by the
sentiments of joy or of sadness which so quickly succeed each
other, bitter indeed would be this flood-tide of pain; but these
rapid alternations do no more than ruffle the surface of my
soul, and I remain ever in a profound peace that nothing can
disturb.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
I AM not always faithful, but I am never discouraged; I leave
myself wholly in the arms of our Divine Lord; He teaches me to
_draw profit from all--both good and ill that He finds in me_.
[4] He teaches me to speculate in the Bank of Love, or rather it
is He who acts for me without telling me how He goes to work,
that is His affair and not mine; my part is complete surrender,
reserving nothing to myself, not even the gratification of
knowing how my credit stands with the Bank.
XVI LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
[4] St. John of the Cross.
A SISTER told Sœur Thérèse of the strange phenomena produced by
magnetism on persons who really wish to yield up their will to
the mesmerizer. These details appeared to interest her keenly
and on the morrow she said to the Sister:
"Your conversation yesterday did me so much good. Oh! how I wish
to be magnetized by our Lord. It was my first thought on
awakening. With what delight have I delivered my will up to Him.
Yes, I want Him to make Himself master of my faculties in such
sort that my actions shall no longer be human or personal, but
wholly divine, inspired and directed by the Spirit of Love."
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
YOU are quite wrong to think of sorrows that the future may
bring; it is, as it were, intermeddling with Divine Providence.
We who run in the way of Love must never torment ourselves about
anything. If I did not suffer minute by minute, it would be
impossible for me to be patient; but I see only the present
moment, I forget the past and I take good care not to anticipate
the future. If we grow disheartened, if sometimes we despair, it
is because we have been dwelling on the past or the future.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
I NO longer thirst for either suffering or death, yet both I
dearly prize. Long did I call upon them as the harbingers of joy
. . . Suffering has in very truth been mine, and I have thought
I wellnigh touched the eternal shore! I have believed from my
earliest youth that _the little flower_ would be gathered in its
spring-time; now, it is the spirit of self-abandonment alone
that guides me, no other compass have I. I know not now, how to
ask anything eagerly, save the perfect accomplishment of God's
designs upon my soul.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII
"PRAY for me," she would often say, "when I implore Heaven to
come to my aid, then it is that I feel most forsaken."
"And in this desolation how do you avoid discouragement?" they
asked her.