August 19, 2025 • 30 mins
Marie Francoise Therese Martin, lovingly known as The Little Flower, was born on January 2, 1873, in Alencon, France, to Louis Martin and Zelie Guerin. As the youngest of nine siblings, she faced profound loss early in life when her mother passed away when she was just three years old. The family relocated to Lisieux to be closer to relatives, setting the stage for Therese’s spiritual journey. At the tender age of 15, Therese entered the Carmelite convent in Lisieux on April 9, 1888, despite facing significant opposition. It was within those sacred walls that she penned her spiritual autobiography, LHistoire dune Ame (The Story of a Soul), out of obedience and love. Her sisters followed her path into religious life, with one joining her at the Carmel and another becoming a Poor Clare at the Visitation Convent in Caen. Thereses life was brief; she succumbed to tuberculosis on September 30, 1897, at the Carmel of Lisieux. Her legacy lives on, as she was beatified on April 29, 1923, and canonized on May 17, 1925. (Summary written by Ann Boulais.)
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter four of the Story of a Soul. This is
a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
Recording by Anne Boulay, The Story of a Soul, The
autobiography of Saint Terrez of Le Sioux, translated by Thomas Taylor,
(00:25):
Chapter four, First Communion and Confirmation. While describing this visit
to the Carmel, my thoughts are carried back to the
first one which I paid. After Pauline entered on the
morning of that happy day, I wondered what name would
be given to me. Later on, I knew that there
was already a sister, Teresa of Jesus. Nevertheless, my beautiful
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name of theres could not be taken from me. Suddenly
I thought of the child Jesus, whom I loved so dearly,
and I felt how much I should like to be
called Teresa of the Child Jesus. I was careful not
to tell you of my wish, dear mother, Yet you
said to me in the middle of our conversation, when
you come to us, little one, you will be called
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Teresa of the Child Jesus. My joy was great. Indeed,
this happy coincidence of thought seemed a special favor from
the Holy Child. So far have I not said anything
about my love for pictures and books, and yet I
owe some of the happiest and strongest impressions which have
encouraged me in the practice of virtue, to the beautiful
pictures Pauline used to show to me. Everything was forgotten
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while looking at them. For instance, the Little Flower of
the Divine Prisoner suggested so many thoughts that I would
remain gazing at it in a kind of ecstasy. I
offered myself to our Lord to be his little flower.
I longed to console him to draw as near as
possible to the tabernacle, to be looked on, cared for,
and gathered by him. As I was of no use
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at Games, I should have preferred to spend all my
time in reading. Happily, for me, I had visible guardian
angels to guide me in this matter. They chose this
book suitable to my age, which interested me and at
the same time provided food for my thoughts and affections.
I was only allowed a limited time for this favorite recreation,
and it became an occasion of much self sacrifice. For
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as soon as the time had lapsed, I made it
my duty to stop instantly, even in the middle of
a most interesting passage. As to the impressions produced on
me by these books, I must frankly own that in
reading certain tales of chivalry, I did not always understand
the realities of life, and so, in my admiration of
the patriotic deeds of the heroines of France, especially the
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venerable Joan of Arc, I longed to do what they
had done. About this time I received what I have
looked on as one of the greatest graces of my life.
For at that age I was not favored with lights
from heaven as I am now. Our Lord made me
understand that the only true glory is that which lasts forever,
and that to attain it there is no necessity to
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do brilliant deeds, but rather to hide from the eyes
of others, and even from oneself, so that the left
hand knows not what the right hand does. Footnote cross
reference Matthew six, verse three en footnote. Then, as I
reflected that I was born for great things and sought
the means to attain them, it was made known to
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me interiorly that my personal glory would never reveal itself
before the eyes of men, but that it would consist
in becoming a saint. This aspiration may very well appear rash,
seeing how imperfect I was and am even now after
so many years of religious life, yet I still feel
the same daring confidence that one day I shall become
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a great saint. I am not trusting in my own merits,
for I have none, but I trust in Him who
is virtue and holiness itself. It is he alone who
please with my feeble efforts, will raise me to himself,
and by clothing me with his merits, make me a saint.
At that time, I did not realize that to become
one it is necessary to suffer a great deal. But
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God soon disclosed the secret to me by the means
of trials I have related. I must now continue my
story where I left off. Three months after my cure,
Papa took me away for a change. It was a
very pleasant time, and I began to see something of
the world. All around me was joy and gladness. I
was petted, made much of admired. In fact, for a
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whole fortnight my path was strewn with flowers. The wise
man is right when he says the bewitching of vanity
overturneth the innocent mind wisdom for verse twelve, at ten
years of age, the heart is easily fascinated. And I
confess that in my case this kind of life had
its charms. Alas the world knows well how to combine
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its pleasures with the service of God, how little it
thinks of death, and yet death has come to many
people I knew then, young, rich and happy. I recalled
to mind the delightful places where they lived, and asked
myself where they are now and what profit they derived
to day from in the beautiful houses and grounds where
I saw them enjoying all the good things of this life.
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And I reflect that all is vanity, besides loving God
and serving Him alone. Imitation of Christ one, Chapter one three.
Perhaps our Lord wished me to know something of the
world before he paid his first visit to my soul,
so that I might choose more deliberately the way in
which I was to follow him. I shall always remember
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my first communion day as one of unclouded happiness. It
seems to me that I could not have been better prepared.
Do you remember, dear mother, the charming little book you
gave me three months before the great Day. I found
in it a helpful method which prepared me gradually and thoroughly.
It is true I have been thinking about my first
communion for a long time. But as your precious manuscript
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told me, I must stir up in my heart fresh
transports of love and fill it anew with flowers. So
each day I made a number of little sacrifices and
acts of love, which were to be changed into so
many flowers, now violets, another time, roses, then cornflowers, daisies,
or forget me nots. In a word, all nature's blossoms
were to form in me a cradle for the holy child.
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I had Marie, too, who took Pauline's place every evening.
I spent a long time with her, listening eagerly to
all she said. How delightfully she talked to me. I
felt myself set on fire by her noble, generous spirit.
As the warriors of old trained their children in the
profession of arms, so she trained me for the battle
of life and rouse my ardor by pointing to the
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victor's glorious palm. She spoke too, of the imperishable riches
which are so easy to amass each day, and of
the folly of trampling them under foot when one has
to stoop and gather them. When she talked so eloquently,
I was sorry that I was the only one to
listen to her teaching, for in my simplicity, it seemed
to me that the greatest sinners would be converted if
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they but heard her, and that forsaking the perishful riches
of this world, they would seek none but the riches
of heaven. I should have liked at this time to
practice mental prayer, but Marie, finding me sufficiently devout, only
let me say my vocal prayers. A mistress at the
abbey asked me once what I did on holidays when
I stayed at home. I answered timidly, I often hide
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myself in the corner of my room, where I can
shut myself in with the bed curtains. And then I think,
But what do you think about, said the good nun, laughing.
I think about the Good God, about the shortness of life,
and about eternity. In a word, I think. My mistress
did not forget this, and later on she used to
remind me of the time when I thought asking me
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if I still thought. Now, I know that I was
really praying while my divine master gently instructed me. The
three months preparation for first communion passed quickly by. It
was soon time for me to begin my retreat, and
during it I stayed at the abbey. Oh what a
blessed retreat it was. I do not think that anyone
can experience such joy except in a religious house. There,
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with only a few children, it is easy for each
one to receive special attention. I write this in a
spirit of filial gratitude. Our mistresses at the abbey showed
us a true motherly affection. I do not know why,
but I saw plainly that they watched over me more
carefully than they did over the others. Every night, the
first mistress, carrying her little lamp, opened my bed curtains
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softly and kissed me tenderly on the forehead. She showed
me such affection that, touched by her kindness, I said,
one night, Mother, I love you so much that I
am going to tell you a great secret. Then I
took from under my pillow the precious little book you
had given me and showed it to her, my eyes
sparkling with pleasure. She opened it with care, and, looking
through it, attentively told me how privileged I was. In fact,
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several times during the retreat the truth came home to
me that very few motherless children of my age are
as lovingly cared for as I was. Then I listened
most attentively to the instructions given us by Father do men,
and wrote careful notes on them. But I did not
put down any of my own thoughts, as I knew
I should remember them quite well. And so it proved
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how happy I was to attend divine office as the
nuns did. I was easily distinguished from my companions by
a large crucifix, which Leone had given me, and which,
like the missionaries, I carried in my belt. They thought
I was trying to imitate my carmelite sister, and indeed
my thoughts did often turn lovingly to her. I knew
she was in retreat too, not that Jesus might give
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himself to her, but that she might give herself entirely
to Jesus. And this on the same day as I
made my first communion. The time of quiet waiting was
therefore doubly dear to me. At last, there donned the
most beautiful day of all the days of my life.
How perfectly I remember even the smallest details of those
sacred hours, The joyful awakening the Reverend, and tender embraces
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of my mistresses and older companions, the room filled with
snow white frocks where each child was dressed in turn.
And above all, our entrance into the chapel, and the
melody of the morning hymn O Altar of God, where
the angels are hovering. But I would not and could
not tell you all. Some things lose their fragrance when
exposed to the air, and so too one's inmost thoughts
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cannot be translated into earthly words without instantly losing their
deep and heavenly meaning. How sweet was the first embrace
of Jesus. It was indeed an embrace of love. I
felt that I was loved, and I said, I love THEE,
and I give myself to THEE forever. Jesus asked nothing
of me and claimed no sacrifice. For a long time,
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he and little Theres had known and understood one another.
That day our meeting was more than simple recognition. It
was perfect union. We were no longer too. Theres had disappeared,
like a drop of water, lost in the immensity of
the ocean. Jesus alone remained. He was the master. The
king had not theres asked him to take away her liberty,
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which frightened her. She felt herself so weak and frail
that she wished to be forever united with the divine strength.
And then my joy became so intense, so deep, that
it could not be restrained. Tears of happiness welled up
and overflowed. My companions were astonished and asked each other afterwards.
Why did she cry? Had she anything on her conscience? No?
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It is because neither her mother nor her dearly loved
Carmelite's sister is here, And no one understood that all
the joy of heaven had come down into one heart,
and that this heart, exiled, weak and mortal as it was,
could not contain it without tears. How could my mother's
absence grieve me on my first communion day? As Heaven
itself dwelt in my soul in receiving a visit from
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our divine Lord, I received one from my dear mother too.
Nor was I crying on account of Pauline's absence, For
we were even more closely united than before. No I
repeat it. Joy alone, a joy too deep for words,
overflowed within me. During the afternoon, I read the Act
of Consecration to our Lady for myself and my companions.
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I was chosen, probably because I had been deprived of
my earthly mother while still so young. With all my heart,
I consecrated myself to the blessed Virgin Mary and asked
her to watch over me. She seemed to look lovingly
on her little flower, and to smile at her again.
And I thought of the visible smile which had once
cured me, and of all I owed her, Had she
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not herself on the morning of that eighth of May
placed in the garden of my soul, her son Jesus,
the flower of the field, and the Lily of the
valleys Cantacles two, verse one. On the evening of this
happy day, Papa and I went to the carmel, and
I saw Pauline now become the spouse of Christ. She
wore a white veil like mine, and a crown of roses.
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My joy was unclouded, for I hoped soon to join
her and at her side to wait for heaven. I
was pleased with the feast prepared for me at home,
and was delighted with the beautiful watch given to me
by Papa. My happiness was perfect, and nothing troubled the
inward peace of my soul. Night came and so ended
that beautiful day. Even the brightest days are followed by darkness.
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One alone will know no setting the day of the
first and eternal communion in our true home. Somehow the
next day seemed sorrowful. The pretty clothes in the presence
I had received could not satisfy me. Henceforth, our Lord
alone could fill my heart, and all I longed for
was a blissful moment when I should receive him again.
I made my second communion on Ascension Day and had
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the happiness of kneeling at the rails between Papa and Marie.
My tears flowed with inexpressible sweetness. I kept repeating those
words of Saint Paul, I live now, not I, but
Christ liveth in me Galatians too, Verse twenty. After this
second visit of our Lord, I longed for nothing else
but to receive him alas the feasts seemed so far apart.
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On the eve of these happy days, Marie helped me
to prepare she had done for my first communion. I
remember once she spoke of suffering and said that in
all probability, instead of making me walk by this road,
God in his goodness, would carry me always like a
little child. Her words came into my mind next day
after my communion. My heart became inflamed with an ardent
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desire for suffering, and I felt convinced that many crosses
were in store for me. Then my soul was flooded
with such consolation as I have never since experienced. Suffering
became attractive, and I found in it charms which held
me spellbound, though as yet I did not appreciate them
to the full. I had one other great wish. It
was to love God only and to find my joy
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in Him alone. During my thanksgiving after holy Communion, I
often repeated this passage from the imitation of Christ, Oh,
my God, who art unspeakable sweetness turned for me into bitterness.
All the consolations of earth imitation of Christ's three chapter
twenty six three. These were rose to my lips quite naturally,
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I said them, like a child who without well understanding,
repeats what a friend may suggest. Later on, I will
tell you, dear mother, how our Lord has been pleased
to fulfill my desire. How he and he alone has
always been my joy. But if I were to speak
of it now, I should have to pass on to
my girlhood. And there is still much to tell you
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of my early days. Soon after my first communion, I
went into retreat again. Before being confirmed. I prepared myself
with the greatest care for the coming of the Holy Ghost.
I could not understand any one not doing so before
receiving this sacrament of love. As the ceremony could not
take place on the day fixed, I had the consolation
of remaining somewhat longer in retreat. How happy I felt,
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Like the apostles. I looked with joy for the promised comforter,
gladdened by the thought that I should soon be a
perfect Christian and have the Holy Cross, the symbol of
this wondrous sacrament, traced upon my forehead for eternity. I
did not feel the mighty wind of the First Pentecost,
but rather the gentle breeze which the prophet Elias heard
on Mount Horeb On that day. I received the gift
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of fortitude and suffering, a gift I needed sorely for
the martyrdom of my soul was soon to begin. When
these delightful feasts, which can never be forgotten, were over,
I had to resume my life as a day scholar
at the abbey. I made good progress with my lessons
and remembered easily the sense of what I read. But
I had the greatest difficulty in learning by heart. Only
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a catechism. Were my efforts crowned with success. The chaplain
called me his little doctor of theology, no doubt because
of my name Terrees footnote. Saint Teresa, who reformed the
Carmelite order and died in fifteen eighty two, is sometimes
called the doctor of Mystical Theology because of her luminous
writings on the relations of the soul with God in
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prayer editor and footnote. During recreation, I often gave myself
up to serious thoughts, while from a distance I watched
my companions at play. This was my favorite occupation. But
I had another which gave me real pleasure. I would
search carefully for any poor little birds that had fallen
dead under the big trees, and then I buried them
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with great ceremony, all in the same cemetery in a
special grass plot. Sometimes I told stories to my companions,
and often even the big girls came to listen. But
soon our mistress very rightly brought my career as an
orator to an end, saying she wanted us to exercise
our bodies and not our brains. At this time I
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chose as my friend's two little girls of my own age.
But how shallow are the hearts of creatures. One of
them had to stay home for some months. While she
was away, I thought about her very often, and on
her return I showed how pleased I was. However, all
I got was a glance of indifference. My friendship was
not appreciated. I felt this very keenly, and I no
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longer sought an affection which had proved so inconstant. Nevertheless,
I still love my little school friend and continue to
pray for her, for God has given me a faithful heart,
and when once I love, I love forever. Observing that
some of the girls were very devoted to one or
the other of the mistress's, I tried to imitate them,
but I never succeeded in winning special favor. Oh, happy failure,
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from how many evils have you saved me? I am
most thankful to our Lord, that he let me find
only bitterness in earthly friendships. With a heart like mine,
I should have been taken captive and had my wings clipped.
And how then should I have been able to fly
away and be at rest Psalms fifty four fifty five,
verse seven. How can a heart given up to human
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affections be closely united to God? It seems to me
that it is impossible. I have seen so many souls
allured by this false light, fly right into it like
poor moths, and burn their wings, and then return wounded
to our Lord. The divine fire, which burns and does
not consume. I know well our Lord saw that I
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was too weak to be exposed to temptation, For without doubt,
had the deceitful light of created love dazzled my eyes,
I should have been entirely consumed. Where strong souls find
joy and practice detachment. Faithfully, I only found bitterness. No merit, then,
is due to me for not having given up to
these frail ties, since I was only preserved from them
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by the mercy of God. I fully realized that without
him I should have fallen as low as Saint Mary Magdalen,
and the divine master's words re echo sweetly in my soul. Yes,
I know that to whom less is forgiven, he loveth
less Luke seven, verse forty seven. But I know too
that our Lord has forgiven me more than Saint Mary Magdalen.
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Here is an example which will at any rate show
you some of my thoughts. Let us suppose that the
son of a very clever doctor, stumbling over a stone
on the road, falls and breaks his leg. His father
hastens to him, lifts him lovingly, and binds up the
fractured limb, putting forth all his skill. The son, when cure,
displays the utmost gratitude, and he has excellent reason for
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doing so. But let us take another supposition. The father,
aware that a dangerous stone lies in his son's path,
is beforehand with the danger, and removes it unseen by
any one. The son, thus tenderly cared for, not knowing
of the mishap from which his father's hand has saved him,
naturally will not show him any gratitude, and will love
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him less than if he had cured him of a
grievous wound. But suppose he heard the whole truth, would
he not in that case love him? Still more well,
Now I am this child, the object of the foreseeing
love of a father who did not send his son
to call the just but sinners Luke five, verse thirty two.
He wishes me to love him because he has forgiven
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me not much but everything, without waiting for me to
love him, much as Saint Mary Magdalen did. He has
made me understand how he has loved me with an
ineffable love and forethought, so that now my love may
know no bounds. I had often heard it said, both
in retreats and elsewhere, that he is more deeply loved
by repentant souls than by those who have not lost
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their baptismal innocence. Ah if I could but give the
lie to those words. But I have wandered so far
from my subject that I hardly know where to begin again.
It was during the retreat before my second communion that
I was attacked by the terrible disease of scruples. One
must have passed through this martyrdom to understand it. It
would be quite impossible for me to tell you what
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I suffered. For nearly two years. All my thoughts and actions,
even the simplest, were a source of trouble and anguish
to me. I had no peace till I had told
Marie everything, and this was most painful, since I imagined
I was obliged to tell absolutely all my thoughts, even
the most extravagant. As soon as I had unburdened myself,
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I felt a momentary peace, but it passed like a flash,
and my martyrdom began again. Many an occasion for patience
did I for for my dear sister. That year, we
spent a fortnight of our holidays at the seaside. My aunt,
who always showed us such motherly care, treated us to
all possible pleasures donkey rides, shrimping and the rest. She
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even spoiled us in the matter of clothes. I remember
one day she gave me some pale blue ribbon. Although
I was twelve and a half, I was still such
a child that I quite enjoyed tying it in my hair.
But this childish pleasure seemed sinful to me, and I
had so many scruples that I had to go to
confession even at Truville. While I was there, I had
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an experience which did me good. My cousin Marie often
suffered from sick headaches. On these occasions, my aunt used
to fondle her and coax her with the most endearing names,
but the only response was continual tears in the unceasing
cry my headaches. I had a headache nearly every day,
though I did not say so. But one evening I
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thought I would imitate Marie. So I sat down in
an arm chair in a corner of the room and
said to work to cry. My aunt, as well as
my cousin Jean, to whom I was very devoted, hastened
to me to know what was the matter. I answered,
like Marie, my headaches. It would seem that complaining was
not in my line. No one would believe that a
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headache was the reason of my tears. Instead of petting
me as usual, my aunt spoke to me seriously. Even
Jean reproached me very kindly, it is true, and was
grieved at my want of simplicity and trust in my aunt.
She thought I had a big scruple and was not
giving the real reason of my tears. At last, getting
nothing for my pains, I made up my mind not
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to imitate other people any more. I thought of the
fable of the ass and the little dog, I was
the ass who, seeing that the little dog got all
the petting, put his clumsy hoof on the table to
try and secure his share. If I did not have
a beating like the poor beast. At any rate, I
got what I deserved, a severe lesson, which cured me
once for all of the desire to attract attention. I
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must go back now to the subject of my scruples.
They made me so ill that I was obliged to
leave school when I was thirteen. In order to continue
my education, Papa took me several times a week to
a lady who was an excellent teacher. Her lessons served
the double purpose of instructing me and making me associate
with other people. Visitors were often shown into the old
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fashioned room, where I sat with my books and exercises.
As far as possible. My teacher's mother carried on the conversation,
but still I did not learn much. While it lasted
seemingly absorbed in my book, I could hear many things
it would have been better for me not to hear.
One lady said I had beautiful hair. Another asked as
she left, who was that pretty little girl. Such remarks
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the more flattering because I was not meant to hear them.
Gave me a feeling of pleasure, which showed plainly that
I was full of self love. I am very sorry
for souls who lose themselves in this way. It is
so easy to go astray in the seductive paths of
the world without doubt for a soul somewhat advanced in virtue.
The sweetness offered by the world is mingled with bitterness,
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and the immense void of its desires cannot be filled
by the flattery of a moment. But I repeat, if
my heart had not been lifted up towards God from
the first moment of consciousness, if the world had smiled
on me from the beginning of my life, what should
I have become, Dearest Mother? With what a grateful heart
do I sing the mercies of the Lord? Has He not,
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according to the words of Holy Wisdom, taken me away
from the world, lest wickedness should alter my understanding or
deceit beguile my soul footnote cross reference Wisdom four, verse
eleven en footnote. Meanwhile, I resolved to consecrate myself in
a special way to our blessed Lady, and I begged
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to be enrolled among the children of Mary footnote. It
was on May thirty one, eighteen eighty six, that she
became a sodalis of our lady editor En Footnote. To
gain this favor, I had to go twice a week
to the convent, and I must confess this cost me something.
I was so shy. There was no question of the
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affection I felt towards my mistress's. But as I said before,
I had no special friend among them with whom I
could spend many hours like other old pupils, So I
worked in silence till the end of the lesson, and then,
as no one took any notice of me, I went
to the tribune in the chapel till Papa came to
fetch me home. Here during this silent visit I found
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my one consolation, For was not Jesus my only friend?
To him alone? Could I open my heart? All conversation
with creatures, even on holy subjects, wearied me. It is
true that in these periods of loneliness I sometimes felt sad,
and I used often to console myself by repeating this
line of a beautiful poem Papa had taught me. Time
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is thy bark and not thy dwelling place. As young
as I was, these words restored my courage, and even now,
in spite of having outgrown many pious impressions of childhood,
the symbol of a ship always delights me and helps
me to bear the exile of this life. Does not
the wise man tell us life is like a ship
that passeth through the waves. When it is gone by
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the trace thereof cannot be found Wisdom five, verse ten.
When my thoughts run on in this way, my soul
loses itself, as it were in the infinite. I seem
already to touch the heavenly shore and to receive our
Lord's embrace. I fancy I can see our blessed Lady
coming to meet me with my father and mother, my
little brothers and sisters, and I picture myself enjoying true
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family joys for all eternity. But before reaching our father's
home in heaven, I had to go through many partings
on this earth. The year in which I was made
a child of Mary, our Lady, took from me my
sister Marie, the only support of my soul, my oracle
and inseparable companion since the departure of Pauline footnote Marie
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entered the karma of Le Sioux on October fifteenth, eighteen
eighty six, taking the name of Sister Mary of the
Sacred Heart and footnote. As soon as I knew of
her decision, I made up my mind to take no
further pleasure in anything here below. I could not tell
you how many tears I shed, but at this time
I was much given to crying, not only over big things,
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but over trifling ones too. For instance, I was very
anxious to advance in virtue, but I went about it
in a strange way. I was not accustomed to wait
on myself. Selene always arranged our room, and I never
did any household work. Sometimes, in order to please our Lord,
I used to make my bed, or if she were
out in the evening, to bring in her plants and seedlings.
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As I said before, it was simply to please our
Lord that I did these things, And so I ought
not to have expected any thanks from creatures. But alas
I did expect them. And if, unfortunately Selene did not
seem surprised and grateful for my little services, I was
not pleased, and tears rose to my eyes again. If
by accident I offended any one instead of taking it
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in the right way. I fretted till I made myself ill,
thus making my fault worse instead of mending it. And
when I began to realize my foolishness, I would cry
for having cried. In fact, I made troubles out of everything.
Now things are quite different. God, in his goodness, has
given me grace not to be cast down by any
passing difficulty. When I think of what I used to be,
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my heart overflows with gratitude. The graces I have received
have changed me so completely that I am scarcely the
same person. After Marie entered the carmel and I no
longer had her to listen to my scruples, I turned
towards heaven and confided them to the four little angels
who had already gone before me, For I thought that
these innocent souls, who had never known sorrow or fear,
(29:45):
ought to have pity on their poor, little, suffering sister.
I talked to them with childish simplicity, telling them that
as I was the youngest of the family, I had
always been the most petted and loved by my parents
and sisters, that if they had remained on earth, they
would no doubt have given me the same proofs of
their affection. The fact that they had gone to heaven
seemed no reason why they should forget me. On the contrary,
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as they were able to draw from the treasury of Heaven,
they ought to obtain for me the grace of peace
and prove that they still knew how to love me.
The answer was not long in coming. Soon my soul
was flooded with the sweetest peace. I knew that I
was loved not only on earth, but also in heaven.
From that time my devotion for these little brothers and
(30:28):
sisters increased. I loved to talk to them and tell
them of all the sorrows of this exile, and of
my wish to join them soon in our eternal home.
And of Chapter four
Chapter four of the Story of a Soul. This is
a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
Recording by Anne Boulay, The Story of a Soul, The
autobiography of Saint Terrez of Le Sioux, translated by Thomas Taylor,
(00:25):
Chapter four, First Communion and Confirmation. While describing this visit
to the Carmel, my thoughts are carried back to the
first one which I paid. After Pauline entered on the
morning of that happy day, I wondered what name would
be given to me. Later on, I knew that there
was already a sister, Teresa of Jesus. Nevertheless, my beautiful
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name of theres could not be taken from me. Suddenly
I thought of the child Jesus, whom I loved so dearly,
and I felt how much I should like to be
called Teresa of the Child Jesus. I was careful not
to tell you of my wish, dear mother, Yet you
said to me in the middle of our conversation, when
you come to us, little one, you will be called
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Teresa of the Child Jesus. My joy was great. Indeed,
this happy coincidence of thought seemed a special favor from
the Holy Child. So far have I not said anything
about my love for pictures and books, and yet I
owe some of the happiest and strongest impressions which have
encouraged me in the practice of virtue, to the beautiful
pictures Pauline used to show to me. Everything was forgotten
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while looking at them. For instance, the Little Flower of
the Divine Prisoner suggested so many thoughts that I would
remain gazing at it in a kind of ecstasy. I
offered myself to our Lord to be his little flower.
I longed to console him to draw as near as
possible to the tabernacle, to be looked on, cared for,
and gathered by him. As I was of no use
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at Games, I should have preferred to spend all my
time in reading. Happily, for me, I had visible guardian
angels to guide me in this matter. They chose this
book suitable to my age, which interested me and at
the same time provided food for my thoughts and affections.
I was only allowed a limited time for this favorite recreation,
and it became an occasion of much self sacrifice. For
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as soon as the time had lapsed, I made it
my duty to stop instantly, even in the middle of
a most interesting passage. As to the impressions produced on
me by these books, I must frankly own that in
reading certain tales of chivalry, I did not always understand
the realities of life, and so, in my admiration of
the patriotic deeds of the heroines of France, especially the
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venerable Joan of Arc, I longed to do what they
had done. About this time I received what I have
looked on as one of the greatest graces of my life.
For at that age I was not favored with lights
from heaven as I am now. Our Lord made me
understand that the only true glory is that which lasts forever,
and that to attain it there is no necessity to
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do brilliant deeds, but rather to hide from the eyes
of others, and even from oneself, so that the left
hand knows not what the right hand does. Footnote cross
reference Matthew six, verse three en footnote. Then, as I
reflected that I was born for great things and sought
the means to attain them, it was made known to
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me interiorly that my personal glory would never reveal itself
before the eyes of men, but that it would consist
in becoming a saint. This aspiration may very well appear rash,
seeing how imperfect I was and am even now after
so many years of religious life, yet I still feel
the same daring confidence that one day I shall become
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a great saint. I am not trusting in my own merits,
for I have none, but I trust in Him who
is virtue and holiness itself. It is he alone who
please with my feeble efforts, will raise me to himself,
and by clothing me with his merits, make me a saint.
At that time, I did not realize that to become
one it is necessary to suffer a great deal. But
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God soon disclosed the secret to me by the means
of trials I have related. I must now continue my
story where I left off. Three months after my cure,
Papa took me away for a change. It was a
very pleasant time, and I began to see something of
the world. All around me was joy and gladness. I
was petted, made much of admired. In fact, for a
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whole fortnight my path was strewn with flowers. The wise
man is right when he says the bewitching of vanity
overturneth the innocent mind wisdom for verse twelve, at ten
years of age, the heart is easily fascinated. And I
confess that in my case this kind of life had
its charms. Alas the world knows well how to combine
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its pleasures with the service of God, how little it
thinks of death, and yet death has come to many
people I knew then, young, rich and happy. I recalled
to mind the delightful places where they lived, and asked
myself where they are now and what profit they derived
to day from in the beautiful houses and grounds where
I saw them enjoying all the good things of this life.
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And I reflect that all is vanity, besides loving God
and serving Him alone. Imitation of Christ one, Chapter one three.
Perhaps our Lord wished me to know something of the
world before he paid his first visit to my soul,
so that I might choose more deliberately the way in
which I was to follow him. I shall always remember
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my first communion day as one of unclouded happiness. It
seems to me that I could not have been better prepared.
Do you remember, dear mother, the charming little book you
gave me three months before the great Day. I found
in it a helpful method which prepared me gradually and thoroughly.
It is true I have been thinking about my first
communion for a long time. But as your precious manuscript
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told me, I must stir up in my heart fresh
transports of love and fill it anew with flowers. So
each day I made a number of little sacrifices and
acts of love, which were to be changed into so
many flowers, now violets, another time, roses, then cornflowers, daisies,
or forget me nots. In a word, all nature's blossoms
were to form in me a cradle for the holy child.
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I had Marie, too, who took Pauline's place every evening.
I spent a long time with her, listening eagerly to
all she said. How delightfully she talked to me. I
felt myself set on fire by her noble, generous spirit.
As the warriors of old trained their children in the
profession of arms, so she trained me for the battle
of life and rouse my ardor by pointing to the
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victor's glorious palm. She spoke too, of the imperishable riches
which are so easy to amass each day, and of
the folly of trampling them under foot when one has
to stoop and gather them. When she talked so eloquently,
I was sorry that I was the only one to
listen to her teaching, for in my simplicity, it seemed
to me that the greatest sinners would be converted if
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they but heard her, and that forsaking the perishful riches
of this world, they would seek none but the riches
of heaven. I should have liked at this time to
practice mental prayer, but Marie, finding me sufficiently devout, only
let me say my vocal prayers. A mistress at the
abbey asked me once what I did on holidays when
I stayed at home. I answered timidly, I often hide
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myself in the corner of my room, where I can
shut myself in with the bed curtains. And then I think,
But what do you think about, said the good nun, laughing.
I think about the Good God, about the shortness of life,
and about eternity. In a word, I think. My mistress
did not forget this, and later on she used to
remind me of the time when I thought asking me
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if I still thought. Now, I know that I was
really praying while my divine master gently instructed me. The
three months preparation for first communion passed quickly by. It
was soon time for me to begin my retreat, and
during it I stayed at the abbey. Oh what a
blessed retreat it was. I do not think that anyone
can experience such joy except in a religious house. There,
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with only a few children, it is easy for each
one to receive special attention. I write this in a
spirit of filial gratitude. Our mistresses at the abbey showed
us a true motherly affection. I do not know why,
but I saw plainly that they watched over me more
carefully than they did over the others. Every night, the
first mistress, carrying her little lamp, opened my bed curtains
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softly and kissed me tenderly on the forehead. She showed
me such affection that, touched by her kindness, I said,
one night, Mother, I love you so much that I
am going to tell you a great secret. Then I
took from under my pillow the precious little book you
had given me and showed it to her, my eyes
sparkling with pleasure. She opened it with care, and, looking
through it, attentively told me how privileged I was. In fact,
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several times during the retreat the truth came home to
me that very few motherless children of my age are
as lovingly cared for as I was. Then I listened
most attentively to the instructions given us by Father do men,
and wrote careful notes on them. But I did not
put down any of my own thoughts, as I knew
I should remember them quite well. And so it proved
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how happy I was to attend divine office as the
nuns did. I was easily distinguished from my companions by
a large crucifix, which Leone had given me, and which,
like the missionaries, I carried in my belt. They thought
I was trying to imitate my carmelite sister, and indeed
my thoughts did often turn lovingly to her. I knew
she was in retreat too, not that Jesus might give
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himself to her, but that she might give herself entirely
to Jesus. And this on the same day as I
made my first communion. The time of quiet waiting was
therefore doubly dear to me. At last, there donned the
most beautiful day of all the days of my life.
How perfectly I remember even the smallest details of those
sacred hours, The joyful awakening the Reverend, and tender embraces
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of my mistresses and older companions, the room filled with
snow white frocks where each child was dressed in turn.
And above all, our entrance into the chapel, and the
melody of the morning hymn O Altar of God, where
the angels are hovering. But I would not and could
not tell you all. Some things lose their fragrance when
exposed to the air, and so too one's inmost thoughts
(10:17):
cannot be translated into earthly words without instantly losing their
deep and heavenly meaning. How sweet was the first embrace
of Jesus. It was indeed an embrace of love. I
felt that I was loved, and I said, I love THEE,
and I give myself to THEE forever. Jesus asked nothing
of me and claimed no sacrifice. For a long time,
(10:38):
he and little Theres had known and understood one another.
That day our meeting was more than simple recognition. It
was perfect union. We were no longer too. Theres had disappeared,
like a drop of water, lost in the immensity of
the ocean. Jesus alone remained. He was the master. The
king had not theres asked him to take away her liberty,
(10:59):
which frightened her. She felt herself so weak and frail
that she wished to be forever united with the divine strength.
And then my joy became so intense, so deep, that
it could not be restrained. Tears of happiness welled up
and overflowed. My companions were astonished and asked each other afterwards.
Why did she cry? Had she anything on her conscience? No?
(11:21):
It is because neither her mother nor her dearly loved
Carmelite's sister is here, And no one understood that all
the joy of heaven had come down into one heart,
and that this heart, exiled, weak and mortal as it was,
could not contain it without tears. How could my mother's
absence grieve me on my first communion day? As Heaven
itself dwelt in my soul in receiving a visit from
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our divine Lord, I received one from my dear mother too.
Nor was I crying on account of Pauline's absence, For
we were even more closely united than before. No I
repeat it. Joy alone, a joy too deep for words,
overflowed within me. During the afternoon, I read the Act
of Consecration to our Lady for myself and my companions.
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I was chosen, probably because I had been deprived of
my earthly mother while still so young. With all my heart,
I consecrated myself to the blessed Virgin Mary and asked
her to watch over me. She seemed to look lovingly
on her little flower, and to smile at her again.
And I thought of the visible smile which had once
cured me, and of all I owed her, Had she
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not herself on the morning of that eighth of May
placed in the garden of my soul, her son Jesus,
the flower of the field, and the Lily of the
valleys Cantacles two, verse one. On the evening of this
happy day, Papa and I went to the carmel, and
I saw Pauline now become the spouse of Christ. She
wore a white veil like mine, and a crown of roses.
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My joy was unclouded, for I hoped soon to join
her and at her side to wait for heaven. I
was pleased with the feast prepared for me at home,
and was delighted with the beautiful watch given to me
by Papa. My happiness was perfect, and nothing troubled the
inward peace of my soul. Night came and so ended
that beautiful day. Even the brightest days are followed by darkness.
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One alone will know no setting the day of the
first and eternal communion in our true home. Somehow the
next day seemed sorrowful. The pretty clothes in the presence
I had received could not satisfy me. Henceforth, our Lord
alone could fill my heart, and all I longed for
was a blissful moment when I should receive him again.
I made my second communion on Ascension Day and had
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the happiness of kneeling at the rails between Papa and Marie.
My tears flowed with inexpressible sweetness. I kept repeating those
words of Saint Paul, I live now, not I, but
Christ liveth in me Galatians too, Verse twenty. After this
second visit of our Lord, I longed for nothing else
but to receive him alas the feasts seemed so far apart.
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On the eve of these happy days, Marie helped me
to prepare she had done for my first communion. I
remember once she spoke of suffering and said that in
all probability, instead of making me walk by this road,
God in his goodness, would carry me always like a
little child. Her words came into my mind next day
after my communion. My heart became inflamed with an ardent
(14:18):
desire for suffering, and I felt convinced that many crosses
were in store for me. Then my soul was flooded
with such consolation as I have never since experienced. Suffering
became attractive, and I found in it charms which held
me spellbound, though as yet I did not appreciate them
to the full. I had one other great wish. It
was to love God only and to find my joy
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in Him alone. During my thanksgiving after holy Communion, I
often repeated this passage from the imitation of Christ, Oh,
my God, who art unspeakable sweetness turned for me into bitterness.
All the consolations of earth imitation of Christ's three chapter
twenty six three. These were rose to my lips quite naturally,
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I said them, like a child who without well understanding,
repeats what a friend may suggest. Later on, I will
tell you, dear mother, how our Lord has been pleased
to fulfill my desire. How he and he alone has
always been my joy. But if I were to speak
of it now, I should have to pass on to
my girlhood. And there is still much to tell you
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of my early days. Soon after my first communion, I
went into retreat again. Before being confirmed. I prepared myself
with the greatest care for the coming of the Holy Ghost.
I could not understand any one not doing so before
receiving this sacrament of love. As the ceremony could not
take place on the day fixed, I had the consolation
of remaining somewhat longer in retreat. How happy I felt,
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Like the apostles. I looked with joy for the promised comforter,
gladdened by the thought that I should soon be a
perfect Christian and have the Holy Cross, the symbol of
this wondrous sacrament, traced upon my forehead for eternity. I
did not feel the mighty wind of the First Pentecost,
but rather the gentle breeze which the prophet Elias heard
on Mount Horeb On that day. I received the gift
(16:08):
of fortitude and suffering, a gift I needed sorely for
the martyrdom of my soul was soon to begin. When
these delightful feasts, which can never be forgotten, were over,
I had to resume my life as a day scholar
at the abbey. I made good progress with my lessons
and remembered easily the sense of what I read. But
I had the greatest difficulty in learning by heart. Only
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a catechism. Were my efforts crowned with success. The chaplain
called me his little doctor of theology, no doubt because
of my name Terrees footnote. Saint Teresa, who reformed the
Carmelite order and died in fifteen eighty two, is sometimes
called the doctor of Mystical Theology because of her luminous
writings on the relations of the soul with God in
(16:53):
prayer editor and footnote. During recreation, I often gave myself
up to serious thoughts, while from a distance I watched
my companions at play. This was my favorite occupation. But
I had another which gave me real pleasure. I would
search carefully for any poor little birds that had fallen
dead under the big trees, and then I buried them
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with great ceremony, all in the same cemetery in a
special grass plot. Sometimes I told stories to my companions,
and often even the big girls came to listen. But
soon our mistress very rightly brought my career as an
orator to an end, saying she wanted us to exercise
our bodies and not our brains. At this time I
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chose as my friend's two little girls of my own age.
But how shallow are the hearts of creatures. One of
them had to stay home for some months. While she
was away, I thought about her very often, and on
her return I showed how pleased I was. However, all
I got was a glance of indifference. My friendship was
not appreciated. I felt this very keenly, and I no
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longer sought an affection which had proved so inconstant. Nevertheless,
I still love my little school friend and continue to
pray for her, for God has given me a faithful heart,
and when once I love, I love forever. Observing that
some of the girls were very devoted to one or
the other of the mistress's, I tried to imitate them,
but I never succeeded in winning special favor. Oh, happy failure,
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from how many evils have you saved me? I am
most thankful to our Lord, that he let me find
only bitterness in earthly friendships. With a heart like mine,
I should have been taken captive and had my wings clipped.
And how then should I have been able to fly
away and be at rest Psalms fifty four fifty five,
verse seven. How can a heart given up to human
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affections be closely united to God? It seems to me
that it is impossible. I have seen so many souls
allured by this false light, fly right into it like
poor moths, and burn their wings, and then return wounded
to our Lord. The divine fire, which burns and does
not consume. I know well our Lord saw that I
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was too weak to be exposed to temptation, For without doubt,
had the deceitful light of created love dazzled my eyes,
I should have been entirely consumed. Where strong souls find
joy and practice detachment. Faithfully, I only found bitterness. No merit, then,
is due to me for not having given up to
these frail ties, since I was only preserved from them
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by the mercy of God. I fully realized that without
him I should have fallen as low as Saint Mary Magdalen,
and the divine master's words re echo sweetly in my soul. Yes,
I know that to whom less is forgiven, he loveth
less Luke seven, verse forty seven. But I know too
that our Lord has forgiven me more than Saint Mary Magdalen.
(19:42):
Here is an example which will at any rate show
you some of my thoughts. Let us suppose that the
son of a very clever doctor, stumbling over a stone
on the road, falls and breaks his leg. His father
hastens to him, lifts him lovingly, and binds up the
fractured limb, putting forth all his skill. The son, when cure,
displays the utmost gratitude, and he has excellent reason for
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doing so. But let us take another supposition. The father,
aware that a dangerous stone lies in his son's path,
is beforehand with the danger, and removes it unseen by
any one. The son, thus tenderly cared for, not knowing
of the mishap from which his father's hand has saved him,
naturally will not show him any gratitude, and will love
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him less than if he had cured him of a
grievous wound. But suppose he heard the whole truth, would
he not in that case love him? Still more well,
Now I am this child, the object of the foreseeing
love of a father who did not send his son
to call the just but sinners Luke five, verse thirty two.
He wishes me to love him because he has forgiven
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me not much but everything, without waiting for me to
love him, much as Saint Mary Magdalen did. He has
made me understand how he has loved me with an
ineffable love and forethought, so that now my love may
know no bounds. I had often heard it said, both
in retreats and elsewhere, that he is more deeply loved
by repentant souls than by those who have not lost
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their baptismal innocence. Ah if I could but give the
lie to those words. But I have wandered so far
from my subject that I hardly know where to begin again.
It was during the retreat before my second communion that
I was attacked by the terrible disease of scruples. One
must have passed through this martyrdom to understand it. It
would be quite impossible for me to tell you what
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I suffered. For nearly two years. All my thoughts and actions,
even the simplest, were a source of trouble and anguish
to me. I had no peace till I had told
Marie everything, and this was most painful, since I imagined
I was obliged to tell absolutely all my thoughts, even
the most extravagant. As soon as I had unburdened myself,
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I felt a momentary peace, but it passed like a flash,
and my martyrdom began again. Many an occasion for patience
did I for for my dear sister. That year, we
spent a fortnight of our holidays at the seaside. My aunt,
who always showed us such motherly care, treated us to
all possible pleasures donkey rides, shrimping and the rest. She
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even spoiled us in the matter of clothes. I remember
one day she gave me some pale blue ribbon. Although
I was twelve and a half, I was still such
a child that I quite enjoyed tying it in my hair.
But this childish pleasure seemed sinful to me, and I
had so many scruples that I had to go to
confession even at Truville. While I was there, I had
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an experience which did me good. My cousin Marie often
suffered from sick headaches. On these occasions, my aunt used
to fondle her and coax her with the most endearing names,
but the only response was continual tears in the unceasing
cry my headaches. I had a headache nearly every day,
though I did not say so. But one evening I
(22:54):
thought I would imitate Marie. So I sat down in
an arm chair in a corner of the room and
said to work to cry. My aunt, as well as
my cousin Jean, to whom I was very devoted, hastened
to me to know what was the matter. I answered,
like Marie, my headaches. It would seem that complaining was
not in my line. No one would believe that a
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headache was the reason of my tears. Instead of petting
me as usual, my aunt spoke to me seriously. Even
Jean reproached me very kindly, it is true, and was
grieved at my want of simplicity and trust in my aunt.
She thought I had a big scruple and was not
giving the real reason of my tears. At last, getting
nothing for my pains, I made up my mind not
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to imitate other people any more. I thought of the
fable of the ass and the little dog, I was
the ass who, seeing that the little dog got all
the petting, put his clumsy hoof on the table to
try and secure his share. If I did not have
a beating like the poor beast. At any rate, I
got what I deserved, a severe lesson, which cured me
once for all of the desire to attract attention. I
(24:00):
must go back now to the subject of my scruples.
They made me so ill that I was obliged to
leave school when I was thirteen. In order to continue
my education, Papa took me several times a week to
a lady who was an excellent teacher. Her lessons served
the double purpose of instructing me and making me associate
with other people. Visitors were often shown into the old
(24:22):
fashioned room, where I sat with my books and exercises.
As far as possible. My teacher's mother carried on the conversation,
but still I did not learn much. While it lasted
seemingly absorbed in my book, I could hear many things
it would have been better for me not to hear.
One lady said I had beautiful hair. Another asked as
she left, who was that pretty little girl. Such remarks
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the more flattering because I was not meant to hear them.
Gave me a feeling of pleasure, which showed plainly that
I was full of self love. I am very sorry
for souls who lose themselves in this way. It is
so easy to go astray in the seductive paths of
the world without doubt for a soul somewhat advanced in virtue.
The sweetness offered by the world is mingled with bitterness,
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and the immense void of its desires cannot be filled
by the flattery of a moment. But I repeat, if
my heart had not been lifted up towards God from
the first moment of consciousness, if the world had smiled
on me from the beginning of my life, what should
I have become, Dearest Mother? With what a grateful heart
do I sing the mercies of the Lord? Has He not,
(25:27):
according to the words of Holy Wisdom, taken me away
from the world, lest wickedness should alter my understanding or
deceit beguile my soul footnote cross reference Wisdom four, verse
eleven en footnote. Meanwhile, I resolved to consecrate myself in
a special way to our blessed Lady, and I begged
(25:47):
to be enrolled among the children of Mary footnote. It
was on May thirty one, eighteen eighty six, that she
became a sodalis of our lady editor En Footnote. To
gain this favor, I had to go twice a week
to the convent, and I must confess this cost me something.
I was so shy. There was no question of the
(26:07):
affection I felt towards my mistress's. But as I said before,
I had no special friend among them with whom I
could spend many hours like other old pupils, So I
worked in silence till the end of the lesson, and then,
as no one took any notice of me, I went
to the tribune in the chapel till Papa came to
fetch me home. Here during this silent visit I found
(26:28):
my one consolation, For was not Jesus my only friend?
To him alone? Could I open my heart? All conversation
with creatures, even on holy subjects, wearied me. It is
true that in these periods of loneliness I sometimes felt sad,
and I used often to console myself by repeating this
line of a beautiful poem Papa had taught me. Time
(26:49):
is thy bark and not thy dwelling place. As young
as I was, these words restored my courage, and even now,
in spite of having outgrown many pious impressions of childhood,
the symbol of a ship always delights me and helps
me to bear the exile of this life. Does not
the wise man tell us life is like a ship
that passeth through the waves. When it is gone by
(27:11):
the trace thereof cannot be found Wisdom five, verse ten.
When my thoughts run on in this way, my soul
loses itself, as it were in the infinite. I seem
already to touch the heavenly shore and to receive our
Lord's embrace. I fancy I can see our blessed Lady
coming to meet me with my father and mother, my
little brothers and sisters, and I picture myself enjoying true
(27:34):
family joys for all eternity. But before reaching our father's
home in heaven, I had to go through many partings
on this earth. The year in which I was made
a child of Mary, our Lady, took from me my
sister Marie, the only support of my soul, my oracle
and inseparable companion since the departure of Pauline footnote Marie
(27:55):
entered the karma of Le Sioux on October fifteenth, eighteen
eighty six, taking the name of Sister Mary of the
Sacred Heart and footnote. As soon as I knew of
her decision, I made up my mind to take no
further pleasure in anything here below. I could not tell
you how many tears I shed, but at this time
I was much given to crying, not only over big things,
(28:17):
but over trifling ones too. For instance, I was very
anxious to advance in virtue, but I went about it
in a strange way. I was not accustomed to wait
on myself. Selene always arranged our room, and I never
did any household work. Sometimes, in order to please our Lord,
I used to make my bed, or if she were
out in the evening, to bring in her plants and seedlings.
(28:39):
As I said before, it was simply to please our
Lord that I did these things, And so I ought
not to have expected any thanks from creatures. But alas
I did expect them. And if, unfortunately Selene did not
seem surprised and grateful for my little services, I was
not pleased, and tears rose to my eyes again. If
by accident I offended any one instead of taking it
(29:01):
in the right way. I fretted till I made myself ill,
thus making my fault worse instead of mending it. And
when I began to realize my foolishness, I would cry
for having cried. In fact, I made troubles out of everything.
Now things are quite different. God, in his goodness, has
given me grace not to be cast down by any
passing difficulty. When I think of what I used to be,
(29:24):
my heart overflows with gratitude. The graces I have received
have changed me so completely that I am scarcely the
same person. After Marie entered the carmel and I no
longer had her to listen to my scruples, I turned
towards heaven and confided them to the four little angels
who had already gone before me, For I thought that
these innocent souls, who had never known sorrow or fear,
(29:45):
ought to have pity on their poor, little, suffering sister.
I talked to them with childish simplicity, telling them that
as I was the youngest of the family, I had
always been the most petted and loved by my parents
and sisters, that if they had remained on earth, they
would no doubt have given me the same proofs of
their affection. The fact that they had gone to heaven
seemed no reason why they should forget me. On the contrary,
(30:08):
as they were able to draw from the treasury of Heaven,
they ought to obtain for me the grace of peace
and prove that they still knew how to love me.
The answer was not long in coming. Soon my soul
was flooded with the sweetest peace. I knew that I
was loved not only on earth, but also in heaven.
From that time my devotion for these little brothers and
(30:28):
sisters increased. I loved to talk to them and tell
them of all the sorrows of this exile, and of
my wish to join them soon in our eternal home.
And of Chapter four
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