those who have enlightened the world with the luminous teaching
of the Gospel. Was it not from prayer that Saint Paul, Saint
Augustine, Saint Thomas of Aquin, Saint John of the Cross, Saint
Teresa and so many other friends of God drew that wondrous
science which enraptures the greatest intellects?
Archimedes said: "Give me a lever and a fulcrum, and I will
raise the world." What he was unable to obtain because his
request had but a material end and was not addressed to God, the
Saints have obtained in full measure. For fulcrum, the Almighty
has given them Himself, Himself alone! for lever, prayer, which
enkindles the fire of love; and thus it is that they have
uplifted the world, thus it is that saints still militant,
uplift it, and will uplift it till the end of time.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI
[3] Luke, x, 41
THE Creator of the universe awaits the prayer of one poor little
soul to save a multitude of others, redeemed like her at the
price of His Blood.
Our vocation is not to go and reap in the Father's fields; Jesus
does not say to us: "Cast down your eyes and reap the harvest";
our mission is still more sublime. Here are the words of the
Divine Master: _"Lift up your eyes and see. . ."_ see that in
Heaven there are empty places; yours it is to fill them . . .
you are as Moses praying on the mountain; ask of Me labourers
and I will send them, I await but a prayer, a sigh from out your
heart!
Is not the apostolate of prayer higher as one might say, than
that of preaching? It is for us to form labourers who by
preaching the Gospel, will save thousands of souls of whom we
thus become the mothers; what then have we to envy the Priests
of the Lord?
XII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
HOW beautiful is our vocation! It is for us, it is for Carmel to
preserve _"the salt of the earth."_ [4] We offer our prayers and
sacrifices for the apostles of the Lord; we ought ourselves to
be their apostles while by word and example they preach the
Gospel to our brethren.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VI
[4] Matt., v, 13.
A NOVICE was grieving about her numerous distractions during
prayer: "I too, have many," replied Sœur Thérèse de l'Enfant
Jésus, "but I accept all for love of the good God, even the most
extravagant thoughts that come into my head."
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
HER prayer was continual though she was habitually plunged in
aridity. One day a novice entering her cell, paused, struck by
the celestial expression of her countenance. She was sewing with
alacrity yet seemed lost in profound contemplation.
"Of what are you thinking?" asked the young Sister. "I am
meditating on the _Pater_," she replied. "It is so sweet to call
the good God our Father." And tears shone in her eyes.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
I DO not well see what more I shall have in Heaven than now, she
once said. I shall see the good God, it is true; but as to being
with Him, I am wholly with Him already upon earth.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
A LIVING flame of Divine Love consumed her.
"A few days after my oblation to _God's Merciful Love_," she
relates, "I had commenced in the Choir the Way of the Cross,
when I felt myself suddenly wounded by a dart of fire so ardent
that I thought I must die. I know not how to describe this
transport; there is no comparison which would make one
understand the intensity of that flame. An invisible power
seemed to plunge me wholly into fire . . . but oh! what fire!
what sweetness!"
The Mother Prioress asked her whether this transport was the
first in her life, she answered simply:
"Mother, I have several times had transports of love; once
especially during my novitiate when I remained one entire week
far indeed from this world; for me, there was as it were, a veil
thrown over all things of the earth. But I was not consumed by a
real flame, I was able to sustain those delights without
expecting that their intensity would cause my earthly fetters to
snap asunder, whilst on the day of which I speak, one minute,
one second more and my soul must have left its prison . . .
Alas!--and I found myself again on earth, and aridity
immediately returned to my heart!"
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
HOLY COMMUNION
HOW sweet it was, the first kiss of Jesus to my soul! Yes, it
was a kiss of Love. I felt I was loved, and I too said: "I love
Thee, I give myself to Thee for ever!" Jesus asked nothing of
me, demanded no sacrifice. Already for a long time past, He and
the little Thérèse had watched and understood one another . . .
That day our meeting was no longer a simple look but a _fusion_.
No longer were we two: Thérèse had disappeared as the drop of
water which loses itself in the depths of the ocean, Jesus alone
remained; the Master, the King! Had not Thérèse begged Him to
take away from her, her liberty? That liberty made her afraid;
so weak, so fragile did she feel herself that she longed to be
united for ever to Divine Strength.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV
I HAD taken as my rule of conduct, to receive most faithfully
Holy Communion as often as my confessor permitted, without ever
asking that it might be more frequent. I would act differently
now; for I am quite sure that a soul ought to make known to her
director the attraction that she feels to receive her God. It is
not to remain in a golden ciborium that He comes down each day
from Heaven, but to find another Heaven, the Heaven of our soul
in which He takes His delight.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. V
WHAT shall I say of my thanksgivings after Holy Communion? There
are no moments in which I feel less consolation. And is not this
very natural, seeing that my desire is to receive our Lord's
visit, not for my own satisfaction, but solely for His pleasure.
I imagine my soul to be as a plot of waste ground and beg the
Blessed Virgin to remove from it all the rubbish--meaning its
imperfections; then I beseech her to erect thereon, a vast
canopy worthy of Heaven and to decorate it with her own
treasures, and I invite all the Angels and Saints to come and
sing canticles of love. It seems to me then that Jesus is
pleased to see Himself so magnificently received; and I, I share
His joy. All this does not hinder distractions and sleep from
molesting me; therefore it not rarely happens that I resolve to
continue my thanksgiving all the day long, since I have made it
so badly in the Choir.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII
AT the time of Holy Communion I sometimes picture my soul under
the figure of a little child of three or four years, who at play
has got its hair tossed and its clothes soiled.--These
misfortunes have befallen me in battling with souls.--But very
soon the Blessed Virgin hastens to my aid: quickly she takes off
my little dirty pinafore, smooths my hair and adorns it with a
pretty ribbon or simply with a little flower . . . and this
suffices to render me pleasing and enables me to sit at the
Banquet of Angels without blushing.
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
THE demon, traitor that he is, knows well, that he cannot make a
soul who wills to belong wholly to the good God, commit sin;
therefore he endeavours only to persuade her that she sins. That
is a great deal gained, but it is not yet enough to satisfy his
rage . . . he aims at something further, he wants to deprive
Jesus of a loved tabernacle. Not being able himself to enter
into this sanctuary he wishes that it may at least remain empty
and without its Lord. Alas! what will become of this poor heart?
. . . When the devil has succeeded in driving away a soul from
Holy Communion he has gained his ends, and Jesus weeps. . .
I LETTER TO HER COUSIN MARIE GUÉRIN
A NOVICE relates that she wanted to deprive herself of Holy
Communion because of some lack of fidelity. She wrote her
determination to Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus who thus
replied:
"Little flower cherished by Jesus, it is amply sufficient that
by the humiliation of your soul your roots _eat of the
earth_ . . . You must open a little, or rather raise on high
your corolla so that the Bread of Angels may come as a divine
dew to strengthen you, and to give you all that is wanting to
you.
"Good-night, poor little floweret; ask of Jesus that all the
prayers offered for my recovery may serve to augment the fire
which must consume me."
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
SUFFERING [1]
[1] No reader should be discouraged by this chapter on
Suffering. What Sœur Thérèse says is very consoling for those
who are nailed to the Cross; and others must remember that God
had given to His humble Servant a _sensible_ attraction for
suffering, which is a rare grace and reserved to very few souls,
though many imagine they possess it, and mistake their road
choosing to follow this supposed attraction. Without the
sensible desire and even though experiencing an invincible
repugnance to suffer, souls can be sanctified. What pleases God
is that the suffering be borne with love.
THE cross has accompanied me from the cradle; but then, Jesus
has made me love it passionately.
IX LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
ONE day my sister Marie, speaking of suffering, said that
instead of making me walk by that way, the good God would no
doubt carry me always like a little child. These words recurred
to me after Holy Communion on the following day, and my heart
was fired with an ardent desire of suffering. I felt too an
inward assurance, that crosses in great number were in reserve
for me. Then my soul was inundated with consolations such as I
have never had again in all my life. Suffering became my
attraction, in it I found charms that entranced me.
Another great desire that I felt, was to love but God alone and
to find no joy save only in Him. Often during my thanksgiving
after Holy Communion I used to repeat this passage from the
_Imitation: "O Jesus, who art ineffable sweetness, turn for me
into bitterness all the consolations of earth."_ [2] These words
came from my lips without effort; I uttered them like a child
who repeats without too well understanding, words prompted by a
friend.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV
[2] _Imit_., III, ch. xxvi, 3.
SUFFERING has held out its arms to me from my very entrance into
Carmel and lovingly have I embraced it. My intention in coming
here, I declared in the solemn examination which preceded my
profession: _I am come in order to save souls, and especially to
pray for Priests_. When we want to attain an end we must employ
the means, and Jesus having made me understand that He would
give me souls by means of the cross, the more crosses I met with
the more my attraction to suffering increased. During five years
this way was mine; but I alone knew it. Here was just the hidden
flower that I wanted to offer to Jesus, this flower which
exhaled its fragrance for Heaven alone.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VII
FOR one pain endured with joy, we shall love the good God more
for ever.
I LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS
IN my soul's intercourse with Jesus--nothing . . . dryness!
sleep! Since my Beloved wills to sleep I shall not hinder Him; I
am too happy in seeing that He does not treat me like a
stranger, that He is not constrained with me. He pierces His
little ball through and through with pin-pricks sore
indeed . . . When it is this tender Friend who Himself pierces
His ball, the pain is naught but sweetness--so gentle is His
Hand. How different when creatures pierce it!
Yet I am happy, yes, truly happy to suffer. If Jesus does not
Himself directly pierce His little ball, it is certainly He who
guides the hand that wounds!
II LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS
YES, I desire them, those heart-thrusts, those pin-pricks that
give so much pain . . . Sacrifice I prefer to all ecstacies:
therein lies happiness for me, I find it nowhere else. _The
little reed_ has no fear of breaking, for it is planted on the
shore of the waters of Love; and so, when it bends, that
beneficent wave invigorates it, and makes it long for another
storm to come and bow down its head anew. My weakness it is,
that makes my whole strength. Whatever happens I cannot get
broken; I see only the gentle hand of Jesus.
To win the palm no suffering is too great.
III LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS
THE drop of gall must be mingled in every cup, but I find that
trials greatly help to detach us from earth; they make us look
higher than this world. Nothing here below can satisfy us; we
can enjoy a little repose only by being ready to do God's Will.
I LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS
MY soul has known many kinds of trials, greatly have I suffered
here on earth. In my childhood I suffered with sadness; now, it
is with peace and joy that I taste of all the bitter fruits.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX
SUFFERING united to love is the only thing that appears to me
desirable in this vale of tears.
IX LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
WHEN we are expecting only suffering the least joy surprises us:
suffering itself becomes the greatest of joys when we seek it as
a precious treasure.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX
THERE are people who take everything in the way that gives them
the most pain; with me it is the reverse; I see always the good
side of things. If I have naught but pure suffering, without any
break, well! I make of it my joy.
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
JOY is not in the things that surround us, it resides in the
interior of the soul. One may possess it in the depths of a
gloomy prison, as well as in a royal palace. Thus am I happier
in Carmel, even in the midst of interior and exterior trials,
than in the world, where nothing was wanting to me.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VI
IF now, amid trials, and in the thick of the fight, we can
already find such delight in the thought that God has drawn us
away from the world, what will it be, when in Heaven's eternal
glory and never-ending rest, we shall understand the
incomparable favour He has shown us in choosing us here, to
dwell in His own House--the very threshold of Heaven.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X
LET us not expect to find Love without Suffering. Our nature is
there, and it is not there for nothing; but what treasures it
enables us to acquire! It is our means of gain; so precious is
it that Jesus came down upon earth expressly to possess it . . .
We want to suffer generously, grandly; we wish never to fall;
what illusion! And what does it matter to me if I fall every
minute? I find great profit in it, for thereby I see my
weakness. My God, You know what I am capable of unless You carry
me in Your arms; and if You leave me alone, well; it is that it
pleases you to see me _on the ground_, so why should I be
disquieted?
V LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
LIFE is often irksome and bitter; it is hard to begin a
laborious day, above all when Jesus hides Himself from us. What
is this tender Friend doing? Does He not then see our anguish,
the load that oppresses us; where is He? Why does He not come to
console us?
Ah, fear not . . . He is there, quite near! He is watching us;
He, it is, who begs for these our labours and our tears . . . He
has need of them for souls, for our soul; He wants to give us so
glorious a recompense. Ah! truly, it costs Him to make us drink
of this bitter cup, but He knows that it is the one way by which
to prepare us to know Him as He knows Himself and to become
ourselves God-like. What a destiny! How great is the soul. Let
us rise above all that passes away, let us hold aloof from the
earth, up on high the air is so pure; Jesus may hide Himself but
one is conscious of His presence.
I LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
WHEN we speak of peace we do not mean joy--not at least sensible
joy; to suffer in peace it is enough that we truly will all that
God wills.
V LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
NOTWITHSTANDING the trial which deprives me of every feeling of
enjoyment I can yet exclaim, _"Thou hast given me delight, O
Lord, in all Thou dost."_ [3] For is there a greater joy than to
suffer for Thy Love? The more intense the suffering and the less
apparent to human eyes, the more lovingly dost Thou smile upon
it, O my God. And even--supposing an impossibility--if Thou wert
unaware of it, I would still be happy to suffer, in the hope
that by my tears I might perhaps prevent, or make reparation for
one single sin against faith.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX
[3] Ps., xci, 5.
MINE is not an unfeeling heart, and it is just because of its
capacity to suffer deeply that I desire to offer to Jesus every
kind of suffering it can endure.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX
LIFE is full of sacrifices, it is true; but why look for
happiness in it? Is it not simply "a night to be passed in a bad
Inn" as says our Holy Mother Saint Teresa?
My heart has an ardent thirst for happiness, but well do I see
that no creature is capable of allaying this thirst. On the
contrary, the more I might drink of the waters of that enchanted
spring the more burning would be my thirst.
I know a fountain where _they that drink shall yet thirst,_ [4]
but with a thirst most sweet, a thirst one can always satisfy;
this fountain is the suffering that is known to Jesus
alone! . . .
II LETTER TO SR. MARIE DU SACRÉ-CŒUR
[4] _Cf_. Eccles., xxiv, 29.
OUR Lord never asks of us any sacrifice above our strength.
Sometimes, in truth, the Divine Master makes us taste the full
bitterness of the chalice which He presents to our soul. When He
asks the sacrifice of everything most dear to us in this world,
it is impossible unless by a very special grace, not to cry out
as He did in the Garden of the Agony: _"My Father, let this
chalice pass from Me. . ."_ But let us also hasten to add:
_"Nevertheless not as I will but as Thou wilt."_ [5] It is very
consoling to think that Jesus--Divine Strength itself--has
experienced all our weakness, that He trembled at the sight of
the bitter chalice, the chalice He had longed for so ardently.
I LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
[5] Matt., xxvi, 39.
SINCE our Well-Beloved has _"trodden the wine-press alone."_
[6]--the wine which He gives us to drink--in our turn let us not
refuse to wear garments dyed with blood, let us press out for
Jesus a new wine which may slake His thirst, and _looking around
Him_ He will no longer be able to say that _He is alone_; we
shall be there _to help_. [7]
Neglect, forgetfulness . . . this it is, it seems to me, which
still pains Him the most.
VIII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
[6] Isa., lxiii, 3.
[7] Isa., lxiii, 5.
HERE on earth, where all changes, one sole thing changes not,
the King of Heaven's mode of acting as regards His friends. Ever
since He uplifted the standard of the Cross, it is in its shadow
that all must fight and gain the victory.
VI LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
IT is indeed more through suffering and persecution than through
eloquent preaching, that God wills to establish His Kingdom in
souls.
VI LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
I WANT to forget this world; here below, all things weary me, I
find no joy save one, that of suffering . . . and this joy,
though unfelt, is above every other.
V LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
WHEN I suffer much, when things that are painful and
disagreeable befall me, instead of assuming an air of sadness, I
respond by a smile. At first I was not always successful, but
now it is a habit which I am very happy to have acquired.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
[Picture of Saint Thérèse.]
THE SERVANT OF GOD
SR. THÉRÈSE OF THE CHILD JESUS
AND OF THE HOLY FACE
_Carmelite of the Monastery of Liseux_
1873-1897
A NOVICE was complaining of being more tired than her Sisters,
for besides the common work, she had done another task, of which
they knew nothing; Thérèse answered: "I want to see you always
like a valiant soldier who does not complain of his pains; who
thinks very seriously of the wounds of his brothers and regards
his own as mere scratches. Why do you feel this fatigue to such
a degree? It is because no one knows about it. . .
"Blessed Margaret Mary having had two whitlows used to say she
had only really suffered from the first one, because it had not
been possible for her to hide the second from her Sisters, and
thus it became the object of their compassion.
"This feeling is natural to us; yet to wish that all should know
when we suffer is a very commonplace manner of acting."
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
DURING the first months of her illness it was on her hard
palliasse that Sister Thérèse passed the time of rest, and her
nights were very bad: when asked whether she did not need some
assistance during those hours of pain, she replied: "Oh, no on
the contrary, I think myself very fortunate to be in a cell
distant enough for my Sisters not to hear me. I rejoice to
suffer alone; but from the moment I am pitied and surrounded
with delicate attentions I can no longer feel this joy."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
THE Sister infirmarian remarking, "It is said that you have
never suffered very much." Thérèse smiled and pointing to a
glass containing a draught of medicine, bright red in colour,
replied, "See this little glass, one would imagine it full of
some choice liqueur, but in reality I take nothing that is more
bitter. Well! it is an image of my life; to the eyes of others
it has ever appeared clothed in the most radiant hues; to them
it seemed as though I drank a delicious liqueur, while in truth
it was bitterness. I say bitterness, and yet my life has not
been bitter, for I have known how to make of all bitterness my
sweetness and my joy."
"You are in great pain at this moment, are you not?" "Yes . . .
but I have so much desired to suffer."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
"HOW it grieves us to see you suffer, and to think you may
perhaps have still more to endure," the novices were saying to
her.
"Oh! do not be troubled about me, I have arrived at the stage of
being no longer able to suffer, because all suffering is sweet
to me."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
A SISTER, who doubted her patience, noticed, when visiting her
one day, an expression of heavenly joy on her countenance and
wished to know the reason. "It is because of the very acute pain
I am feeling," replied Thérèse, "I have always striven to love
suffering and to give it a cordial welcome."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
"WHY are you so gay this morning?" she was asked; "It is because
I have had two little trials, nothing gives me _little joys_
like _little trials_."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
ANOTHER time: "You have had a great many trials today."
"Yes, but . . . seeing that I love them! . . . I love everything
the good God sends me."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
AGAIN, when some one said to her: "It is dreadful--all you are
suffering."
"No, it is not dreadful; could a little Victim of Love find
anything dreadful that her Spouse sends her? He gives me at each
moment what I can bear; not more; and the minute He increases my
sufferings He also augments my fortitude.
"Yet I could never ask for greater sufferings, for I am too
little; they would be my own--my own choosing, then I should
have to bear them by myself, and I have never been able to do
anything all alone."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
DURING her long and painful agony she exclaimed: "The chalice is
full to the brim. Never could I have believed it possible to
suffer so much . . . I can only find the explanation in my
extreme longing to save souls . . . Oh! I would not suffer
less."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
THE DIRECTION OF SOULS
OUR Lord allowed me the consolation of closely studying the
souls of children.
Considering these innocent souls I used to compare them to soft
wax, upon which any impression may be stamped the bad, alas!
like the good; and I understood those words of Jesus: "_But he
that shall scandalize one of these little ones . . . it were
better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck and
that he were drowned in the depth of the sea_." [1] Oh! how many
souls might attain to a high degree of holiness if wisely guided
from the very first.
I well know that to accomplish His work of sanctification, God
has need of no one, but just as He enables a skilful gardener to
rear plants that are delicate and rare, granting him for this
end all the knowledge necessary, while reserving to Himself the
care of giving the increase, so, too, does He will to be aided
in His divine culture of souls.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. V
[1] Matt., xviii, 6.