August 19, 2025 • 31 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 eight 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 Sieux, translated by Thomas Taylor.
(00:24):
Chapter eight, profession of sore therese need I tell you,
dear mother, about the retreat before my profession. Far from
receiving consolation, I went through it in a state of
utter dryness, and as if abandoned by God Jesus as
was his wont slept in my little bark. How rarely
do souls suffer him to sleep in peace? This good
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Master is so wearied with continually making fresh advances that
he eagerly avails himself of the repose I offer him,
and no doubt he will sleep on until my great
and everlasting retreat. But instead of being grieved at this,
I am glad in truth, I am no saint. As
this frame of mind well shows, I ought not to
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rejoice in my dryness of soul, but rather attribute it
to my wants of fervor and fidelity. That I fall
asleep so often during meditation and thanksgiving after communion should
distress me. Well, I am not distressed. I reflect that
little children are equally dear to their parents, whether they
are asleep or awake, that in order to perform operations,
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doctors put their patience to sleep. And finally, that the
Lord knoweth our frame, he remembereth that we are but
dust Psalm one O two one O three, verse fourteen.
Yet apparently barren as was my retreat, and those which
followed have been no less. So I unconsciously receive many
interior lights on the best means of pleasing God and
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practicing virtue. I have often observed that our Lord will
not give me any store of provisions, but nourishes me
each moment with food that is ever new. I find
it within me without knowing how it has come there.
I simply believe that it is Jesus himself hidden in
my poor heart, who is secretly at work inspiring me
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with what he wishes me to do as each occasion arises.
Shortly before my profession, I received the Holy Father's blessing
through the hands of brother Simeon, and this precious blessing
undoubtedly helped me through the most terrible storm of my
whole life. On the eve of the Great Day, instead
of being filled with the customary sweetness, my vocation suddenly
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seemed to me as unreal as a dream. The devil,
for it was, He made me feel sure that I
was wholly unsuited for life in the caramel, and that
I was deceiving my superiors by entering on a way
to which I was not called. The darkness was so
bewildering that I understood but one thing. I had no
religious vocation and must return to the world. I cannot
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describe the agony I endured. What was I to do
in such a difficulty, I chose the right course, deciding
to tell my novice mistress of the temptation without delay.
I sent for her to come out of choir, and
though full of confusion, I confessed the state of my soul.
Fortunately she saw more clearly than I did, and reassured
me completely by laughing frankly at my story. The devil
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was put to instant flight by my humble avowal. What
he wanted was to keep me from speaking and thus
draw me into his snares. But it was my turn
now to ensnare him, for to make my humiliation more complete.
I also told you everything, dear mother, and your consoling
words dispelled my last fears. On the morning of September eighth,
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a wave of peace flooded my soul. And in that
piece which surpasseth all understanding Philippians four, verse seven, I
pronounced my holy vows. Many were the graces I asked.
I felt myself truly a queen, and took advantage of
my title to obtain every favor from the King for
his ungrateful subjects. No one was forgotten. I wish that
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every sinner on earth might be converted, that on that
day Purgatory should set its captives free. And I bore
upon my heart this letter containing what I desired for myself.
Oh Jesus, my divine spouse, grant that my baptismal robe
may never be sullied. Take me from this world rather
than let me stain my soul by committing the least
wilful fault. May I never seek or find aught but
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thee alone. May all creatures be nothing to me and
I nothing to them. May no earthly thing disturb my peace? Oh, Jesus,
I ask but peace, peace, and above all love, Love
without limit. Jesus, I ask that for thy sake I
may die a martyr. Give me martyrdom of soul or body,
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or rather give me both the one and the other.
Grant that I may fulfill my engagements in all their perfection,
that no one may think of me, that I may
be trodden under foot, forgotten as a little grain of sand.
I oft from myself to thee, Oh, my Beloved, that
thou mayest ever perfectly accomplish in me thy holy will,
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without let or hindrance from creatures. When at the close
of this glorious day I laid my crown of roses,
according to custom, at our lady's feet, it was without regret.
I felt that time would never lessen my happiness. It
was the Nativity of Mary, What a beautiful feast on
which to become the spouse of Jesus. It was the
little newborn Holy Virgin who presented her little flower to
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the little Jesus. That day. Everything was little except the
graces I received, except my peace and joy in gazing
upon the beautiful starlit sky at night, and in thinking
that soon I should fly away to heaven and be
united to my divine spouse. Amid eternal bliss. On September
twenty fourth took place the ceremony of my receiving the veil.
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This feast was indeed veiled in tears. Papa was too
ill to come and bless his little queen. At the
last minute. Monseigneur Hugenen, who should have presided, was unable
to do so, and for other reasons also, the day
was a painful one, and yet amid it all, my
soul was profoundly at peace. That day. It pleased our
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Lord that I should not be able to restrain my tears,
and those tears were not understood. It is true I
had borne far harder trials without shedding a tear, but
then I had been helped by special graces, Whilst on
this day Jesus left me to myself, and I soon
showed my weakness. Eight days after I had taken the veil,
my cousin Jean Garon, was married to doctor le Neil.
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When she came to see us afterwards, and I heard
of all the little attentions she lavished on her husband,
my heart thrilled, and I thought it shall never be
said that a woman in the world does more for
her husband than I do for Jesus, my beloved and
filled with fresh ardor I set myself more earnestly than
ever to please my heavenly spouse, the King of Kings,
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who had deigned to honor me by a divine alliance.
Having seen the letter announcing the marriage, I amuse myself
by composing the following invitation, which I read to the novices,
in order to bring home to them what has struck
me so forcibly, that the glory of all earthly unions
is as nothing compared to the titles of a spouse
of our Divine Lord, God, Almighty Creator of Heaven and Earth,
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Sovereign Ruler of the Universe, and the glorious Virgin Mary,
Queen of the Heavenly Court, announced to you the spiritual
espousals of their august son, Jesus, King of Kings and
Lord of Lords, with Little Theres Martin, now Princess and
Lady of his kingdoms of the Holy Childhood, and the
passion assigned to her as a dowry by her divine spouse,
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from which kingdoms she holds her titles of nobility of
the child Jesus and of the Holy Face. It was
not possible to invite you to the wedding feast which
took place on the mountain of Carmel September eighth, eighteen ninety.
The heavenly Court was alone admitted. But you are requested
to be present at the wedding feasts which will take
place tomorrow, the day of Eternity, when Jesus, the Son
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of God will come in the clouds of heaven, in
the splendor of his majesty, to judge the living and
the dead. The hour being still uncertain, you are asked
to hold yourselves in readiness and watch. Footnote. This letter,
the style of which may seem strange to English ears,
is modeled closely on the formal and quaint letters, whereby
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French parents of the better class announced to their friends
the marriage of their children. Such letters of fair part
are issued in the names of relatives to the third
and fourth degree. Editor and footnote And now, mother, what
more shall I say? It was through your hands that
I gave myself to our Lord, and you have known
me from childhood? Need I write my secrets? Forgive me
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if I cut short the story of my religious life
during their general retreat. Following my profession, I receive great graces.
As a rule, I find preached retreats most trying, but
this one was quite an exception. I anticipated so much
suffering that I prepared myself by a fervent novena. It
was said that the Good Priest understood better how to
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convert sinners than to direct the souls of nuns. Well,
then I must be a great sinner, for God made
use of this holy religious to bring me much consolation.
At that time I had all kinds of interior trials
which I found it impossible to explain to any one.
Suddenly I was able to lay open my whole soul.
The Father understood me in a marvelous way. He seemed
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to divine my state, and launched me full sail upon
that ocean of confidence and love in which I had
longed to advance but so far had not dared. He
told me that my faults did not pain the Good God,
and added, at this moment, I hold his place, and
I assure you from him that he is well pleased
with your soul. How happy these consoling words made me.
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I had never been told before that it was possible
for faults not to pain the sacred heart. This assurance
filled me with joy and helped me to bear with
patience the exile of this life. It was also the
echo of my inmost thoughts. In truth, I had long
known that the Lord is more tender than a mother,
and I have sounded the depths of more than one
mother's heart. I know that a mother is ever ready
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to forgive her child's small, thoughtless faults. How often have
I not had this sweet experience. No reproach could have
touched me more than one single kiss from my mother.
My nature is such that fear makes me shrink, while
under love's sweet rule I not only advance, I fly.
Two months after this happy retreat, our venerable foundress, Mother
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Genevieva Saint Teresa, quitted our little convent to enter the
heavenly Carmel. Before speaking of my impressions at the time
of her death, I should like to tell you what
a joy it was to have lived for some years
with a soul whose holiness was not inimitable, but lay
in the practice of simple and hidden virtues. More than
once she was to me a source of great consolation.
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One Sunday I went to the infirmary to pay her
a visit, but as two of the older nuns were there,
I was retiring quietly when she called me and said,
with something of inspiration in her manner, Wait, my child,
I have just a word for you. You are always
asking me for a spiritual bouquet. Well to day I
give you this one. Serve the Lord in peace and
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in joy. Remember that our God is the God of peace.
I thanked her quite simply and went out of the room.
I was moved almost to tears, and was convinced that
God had revealed to her the state of my soul.
That day. I had been sorely tried, almost to sadness.
Such was the darkness that I no longer knew if
I were beloved of God, and so, dear mother, you
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can understand what light and consolation succeeded this gloom. The
following Sunday, I asked her whether she had received any
revelation about me, but she assured me that she had not,
and this only made me admire her the more, for
it showed how intimately Jesus lived in her soul and
directed her words and actions. Such holiness seems to me
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the most true the most holy. It is the holiness
I desire, for it is free from all illusion. On
the day when this revered mother ended her exile, I
received a very special grace. It was the first time
I had assisted at a death bed. Yet, though the
sight enchanted me by its beauty, my two hours of
watching had made me very drowsy. I was grieved at this,
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But at the moment her soul took its flight to Heaven,
my feelings were completely changed. In an instant, I was
filled with an indescribable joy and fervor, as if the
soul of our blessed foundress made me share in the
happiness she already enjoyed. For I am quite convinced she
went straight to heaven. I had said to her some
time previously, you will not go to purgatory, Dear mother,
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I hope not, she answered sweetly. Certainly God would not
disappoint a hope so full of humility, And the proof
that he did not lies in the many favors we
have received. The sisters hastened to claim something below longing
to our beloved mother, and you know what a precious
relic is mine. During her agony, I had noticed a
tear glistening like a beautiful diamond. That tear, the last
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she shed on this earth, did not fall. I still
saw it shining when her body was exposed in the choir.
When evening came, I made bold to approach unseen with
a little piece of linen, and I now have the
happiness of possessing the last tear of a saint. I
attach no importance to my dreams, and indeed they seldom
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have any special meaning, though I do often wonder how
it is that as I think of God all the day,
my mind does not dwell on him more. In my sleep,
generally I dream of the woods and the flowers, the
brooks and the sea, and nearly always of pretty children.
Or I chase birds and butterflies such as I have
never seen. But if my dreams are sometimes poetical, they
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are never mystical. However, one night after Mother Genevive's death,
I had a more consoling one. I thought I saw
her giving to each of us something that had belonged
to herself. When my turn came, her hands were empty,
and I was afraid I was not to receive anything.
But she looked at me lovingly and said three times
to you I leave my heart. About a month after
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that seraphic death, towards the close of the year eighteen
ninety one, an epidemic of influenza raged in the community.
I only had it slightly and was able to be
about with two other sisters. It is impossible to imagine
the heartrending state of our Carmel Throughout those days of sorrow.
The worst sufferers were nursed by those who could hardly
drag themselves about. Death was all around us, and when
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a sister had breathed her last, we had to leave
her instantly. My nineteenth birthday was saddened by the death
of mother's sub prioress. I assisted with the infirmarian during
her agony, and two more deaths quickly followed. I now
had to do the sacristy work single handed, and I
wonder sometimes how I was equal to it all. One morning,
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when it was time to rise, I had a presentiment
that Sister Magdalen was no more. The dormitory was quite
in darkness, no one was leaving her cell. I decided, however,
to go in to Sister Magdalen, and I found her
dressed but lying dead on her bed. I was not
in the least afraid and running to the sacristy, I
quickly brought a blessed candle and placed on her head
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a wreath of roses. Amid all this desolation, I felt
the hand of God and knew that his heart was
watching over us. Our dear sisters left this life for
a happier one without any struggle. An expression of heavenly
joy shone on their faces, and they seemed only to
be enjoying a pleasant sleep. During all these long and
trying weeks, I had the unspeakable consolation of receiving Holy
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communion every day. How sweet it was for a long time.
Jesus treated me as a spoilt child for a longer
time than his more faithful spouses. He came to me
daily for several months after the influenza had ceased, a
privilege not granted to the community. I had not asked
this favor, but I was unspeakably happy to be united
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day after day to my beloved. Great was my joy
in being allowed to touch the sacred vessels and prepare
the altar linen on which our Lord was to be laid.
I felt that I must increase in fervor, and I
often recalled those words addressed to deacons at their ordination.
Be you, holy, you who carry the vessels of the Lord.
What can I tell you, dear mother, about my thanksgivings
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after communion? There is no time when I taste less consolation.
But this is what I should expect. I desire to
receive our Lord, not for my own satisfaction, but simply
to give him pleasure. I picture my soul as a
piece of waste ground, and beg our blessed lady to
take away my imperfections, which are as heaps of rubbish,
and to build upon it a splendid tabernacle worthy of heaven,
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and adorn it with her own adornments. Then I invite
all the angels and saints to come and sing canticles
of love. And it seems to me that Jesus is
well pleased to see himself receive so good grandly, and
I share in his joy. But all this does not
prevent distractions and drowsiness from troubling me, And not unfrequently,
I resolved to continue my thanksgiving throughout the day, since
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I made it so badly. Inquire you see, dear Mother,
that my way is not the way of fear. I
can always make myself happy and profit by my imperfections,
and our Lord himself encourages me in this path. Once,
contrary to my usual custom, I felt troubled when I
approached the Holy Table. For several days there had not
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been a sufficient number of hosts, and I had only
received a small part of one. This morning, I foolishly thought,
if the same thing happens to day, I shall imagine
that Jesus does not care to come into my heart.
I approached the rails. What a joy awaited me. The
priest hesitated a moment, then gave me two entire hosts.
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Was this not a sweet response? I have much to
be thankful for. I will tell you quite openly what
the Lord has done for me. He has shown unto
me the same mercy as unto King Solomon. All my
desires have been satisfied, not only my desires of perfection,
but even those of which I understood the vanity in theory,
if not in practice. I had always looked on Sister
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Agnes of Jesus as my model, and I wished to
be like her in everything. She used to paint exquisite
miniatures and write beautiful poems, and this inspired me with
a desire to learn to paint. Footnote. Thees had kept
this wish hidden in her heart from the days of
her childhood, and later in life she made the following confidence.
I was ten the day Papa told Celine that she
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was to begin painting lessons. I felt quite envious. Then
he turned to me and said, well, little queen, would
you like to learn painting too? I was going to
say yes, indeed, I should, when Marie remarked that I
had not the same taste for it as Celine. She
carried her point, and I said nothing, thinking it was
a splendid opportunity to make a big sacrifice for our Lord.
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I was so anxious to learn that even now I
wonder how I was able to keep my silence and
footnote and express my thoughts in verse that I might
do some good to those around me. But I would
not ask for these natural gifts, and my desire remain
hidden in my heart. Jesus too had hidden himself in
this poor little heart, and he was pleased to show
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me once more the vanity of all that passes, to
the great astonishment of the community. I succeeded in painting
several pictures and in writing poems which have been a
help to certain souls. And just as Solomon, turning to
all the works which his hand had wrought, and to
the labors wherein he had labored in vain, saw in
all things vanity and vexation of mind Ecclesiastes too, verse eleven.
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So experience showed me that the sole happiness of earth
consists in lying hidden and remaining in total ignorance of
created things. I understood that without love, even the most
brilliant deeds count for nothing. These gifts which our Lord
lef upon me, far from doing me any harm, drew
me towards him. I saw that he alone is unchangeable.
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He alone can fill the vast abyss of my desires.
Talking of my desires, I must tell you about others
of quite a different kind, which the Divine Master has
also been pleased to grant. Childish desires, like the wish
for snow on my clothing day. You know, dear mother,
how fond I am of flowers. When I made myself
a prisoner at the age of fifteen, I gave up
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forever the delights of rambling through meadows bright with the
treasures of spring. Well, I never possessed so many flowers
as I have had since entering the caramel. In the world,
young men present their betrothed with beautiful bouquets, and Jesus
did not forget me for his altar. I received in
abundance all the flowers I loved best, corn flowers, poppies,
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Marguerite's one little friend. Only was missing, the purple vetch.
I longed to see it again, And at last it
came to gladden me and show that in the least
as in the greatest, God gives a hundredfold even in
this life to those who have left all for his love.
But one desire the dearest of all, and for many reasons,
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the most difficult remained unfulfilled. It was to see Celine
enter the carmel of Le Sieux. However, I had made
a sacrifice of my longing and committed to God alone
the future of my love sister. I was willing she
should be sent to far distant lands, if it must
be so, but I wanted above all things to see her,
like myself, the spouse of Jesus. I suffered deeply, aware
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that she was exposed in the world to dangers I
had never even known. My affection for her was maternal
rather than sisterly, and I was filled with solicitude for
the welfare of her soul. She was to go one
evening with my aunt and cousins to a dance. I
know not why, but I felt more anxious than usual,
and I shed many tears, imploring our Lord to hinder
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her dancing. And this was just what happened, for He
did not suffer his little spouse to dance that evening,
although as a rule she did so most gracefully, and
to the astonishment of everyone. Her partner too, found that
he was only able to walk gravely up and down
with Mademoiselle. The poor young man slipped away in confusion
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and did not dare appear again that evening. This unique
occurrence increased my confidence in our Lord and showed me
clearly that he had already set his seal on my
sister's brow. On July twenty ninth, eighteen ninety four, God
called my saintly and much tried father to himself. For
the last two years of his life, he was completely paralyzed,
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so my uncle took him into his house and surrounded
him with the tenderest care. He became quite helpless, and
was only able to visit us once during the whole
course of his illness. It was a sad interview. At
the moment of parting, as we said goodbye, he raised
his eyes and, pointing upwards, said, in a voice full
of tears in heaven, now that he was with God.
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The last ties which kept his consoling angel in the
world were broken. Angels do not remain on this earth
when they have accomplished their mission. They return instantly to Heaven.
That is why they have wings. Seline tried, therefore, to
fly to the Carmel, but the obstacles seemed insurmountable. One day,
when matters were going from bad to worse, I said
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to our Lord after holy communion, thou knowest, Dear Jesus,
how earnestly I have desired that the trials my father
endured should serve as his purgatory. I long to know
if my wish is granted. I do not ask THEE
to speak to me. I only want to sign Thou
knowest how much opposed is Sister end to Seline's entering.
If she withdraw her opposition, I shall regard it as
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an answer from THEE. And in this way, I shall
know that my father went straight to heaven, God who
holds in his hand the hearts of his creatures and
inclines them as he will, deigned in his infinite mercy
and ineffable condescension to change that sister's mind. She was
the first person I met after my thanksgiving, and with
tears in her eyes, she spoke of Celine's entrance, which
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she now ardently desired. Shortly afterwards the bishop set every
obstacle aside, and then you were able, dear mother, without
any hesitation, to open our doors to the poor little exile. Footnote.
Seline entered the convent on September fourteenth, eighteen ninety four,
and took the name of Sister Genevieve of Saint terreesa
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and footnote. Now I have no desire left unless it
be to love Jesus, even unto folly. It is love
alone that draws me. I no longer wish either for
suffering or death, yet both are precious to me. Long
did I call upon them as the messengers of joy?
I have suffered much, and I have thought my little
bark near, indeed to the everlasting shore. From earliest childhood
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I have imagined that the little flower would be gathered
in its springtime. Now the spirit of self abandonment alone
is my guide. I have no other compass, and know
not how to ask anything with eagerness save the perfect
accomplishment of God's designs upon my soul. I can say
these words of the canticle of our father, Saint John
of the Cross. I drank deep in the cellar of
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my friend, and coming forth again, knew not of all
this plain and lost the flock I ursed, was wont
to tend my soul, and all its wealth I gave
to be his own. No more I tend my flock.
All other work is done, and all my exercise is
love alone. Spiritual canticle stands as eighteen and twenty. Or rather,
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love hath so wrought in me since I have known
its sway, that all within me, whether good or ill,
it makes subservient to the end it seeks, and soon
transforms my soul into itself Him to the deity. Full
sweet is the way of love. It is true one
may fall and be unfaithful to grace, but love, knowing
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how to profit by everything, quickly consumes whatever is pleasing
to Jesus. Leaving in the heart only a deep and
humble peace. I have obtained many spiritual lights through the
works of Saint John of the Cross. When I was
seventeen and eighteen, they were my only food. But later
on and even now, all spiritual authors leave me cold
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and dry. However beautiful in touching a book may be,
my heart does not respond, and I read without understanding,
or if I understand, I cannot meditate in my helplessness.
The Holy Scriptures and the Imitation are of the greatest assistance.
In them I find a hidden manner, genuine and pure.
But it is from the Gospels that I find most
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help in the time of prayer. From them I draw
all that I need for my poor soul. I am
always discovering in them new lights and hidden mysteries of meaning.
I know, and I have experienced, that the Kingdom of
God is within us. Luke seventeen, verse twenty one. Our
Lord has no need of books or teachers to instruct
our souls. He the teature of teachers, instructs us without
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any noise of words. I have never heard him speak,
yet I know he is within me. He is there
always guiding and inspiring me, and just when I need them,
lights hitherto unseen break in. This is not a rule
during my prayers, but in the midst of my daily duties. Sometimes, however,
as this evening, at the close of a meditation spent
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in utter dryness, a word of comfort is given to me.
Here is the Master, I give THEE. He will teach
THEE all that thou shouldst do. I wish THEE to
read in the Book of Life, in which is contained
the Science of Love. Footnote Revelation of Our Lord to
Blessed Margaret Mary, and footnote the Science of Love. How
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sweetly do these words echo in my soul? That science
alone do I desire, having given all my substance for it.
Like the spouse in the Canticles, I think that I
have given nothing Cantacles eight, verse seven. After so many graces,
may I not sing with the Psalmist that the Lord
is good, that his mercy endureth forever Psalm one, O
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three one O four verse one. It seems to me
that if everyone were to receive such favors, God would
be feared by none but love to excess, that no
one would ever commit the least wilful fault. And this
through love not fear. Yet all souls cannot be alike.
It is necessary that they should differ from one another,
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in order that each divine perfection may receive its special honor.
To me he has given his infinite mercy, And it
is in this ineffable mirror that I contemplate his other attributes.
Therein all appear to me radiant with love. His justice,
even more perhaps than the rest, seems to me to
be clothed with love. What joy to think that our
(28:51):
Lord is just, that is to say that he takes
our weakness into account, that he knows perfectly the frailty
of our nature. Of what then, need I be afraid?
Will not the God of infinite justice, who deign so
lovingly to pardon the sins of the prodigal sin, be
also just to me, who am always with him Luke fifteen,
(29:12):
verse thirty one. In the year eighteen ninety five, I
received the grace to understand more than ever how much
Jesus desires to be loved. Thinking one day of those
who offer themselves as victims to the justice of God
in order to turn aside the punishment reserved for sinners
by taking it upon themselves, I felt this offering to
be noble and generous, but was very far from feeling
(29:34):
myself drawn to make it, O, my Divine Master, I
cried from the bottom of my heart. Shall thy justice
alone receive victims of holocaust? Has not thy merciful love
also need thereof? On all sides it is ignored, rejected
the hearts on which thou wouldst lavish it. Turn to
creatures there to seek their happiness in the miserable satisfaction
(29:56):
of a moment, instead of casting themselves into thine arms,
into the unfathomable furnace of thy infinite love, O, my God,
must thy love, which is disdain lie hidden in thy heart? Methinks,
if thou shouldst find souls offering themselves as victims of
holocaust to thy love, thou wouldst consume them rapidly. Thou
wouldst be well pleased to suffer the flames of infinite
(30:19):
tenderness to escape that are imprisoned in thy heart. If
thy justice, which is of earth, must needs be satisfied,
how much more must thy merciful love desire to inflame souls?
Since thy mercy reaches even to the heavens. Footnote cross
reference Psalm thirty five thirty six, verse six, and footnote,
(30:41):
Oh Jesus, let me be that happy victim consume thy
holocaust with the fire of divine love. Dear Mother, you
know the love, or rather the oceans of grace, which
flooded my soul immediately after I made that active oblation
on June ninth, eighteen ninety five. From that day I
have been penetrated and sir with love every moment. This
(31:02):
merciful love renews me and purifies me, leaving in my
soul no trace of sin. I cannot fear purgatory. I
know I do not merit to enter even into that
place of expiation with the holy souls. But I also
know that the fire of love is more sanctifying than
the fire of purgatory. I know that Jesus could not
wish useless suffering for us, and he would not inspire
(31:25):
me with the desires I feel, were he not willing
to fulfill them. And of Chapter eight
Chapter eight 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 Sieux, translated by Thomas Taylor.
(00:24):
Chapter eight, profession of sore therese need I tell you,
dear mother, about the retreat before my profession. Far from
receiving consolation, I went through it in a state of
utter dryness, and as if abandoned by God Jesus as
was his wont slept in my little bark. How rarely
do souls suffer him to sleep in peace? This good
(00:46):
Master is so wearied with continually making fresh advances that
he eagerly avails himself of the repose I offer him,
and no doubt he will sleep on until my great
and everlasting retreat. But instead of being grieved at this,
I am glad in truth, I am no saint. As
this frame of mind well shows, I ought not to
(01:07):
rejoice in my dryness of soul, but rather attribute it
to my wants of fervor and fidelity. That I fall
asleep so often during meditation and thanksgiving after communion should
distress me. Well, I am not distressed. I reflect that
little children are equally dear to their parents, whether they
are asleep or awake, that in order to perform operations,
(01:30):
doctors put their patience to sleep. And finally, that the
Lord knoweth our frame, he remembereth that we are but
dust Psalm one O two one O three, verse fourteen.
Yet apparently barren as was my retreat, and those which
followed have been no less. So I unconsciously receive many
interior lights on the best means of pleasing God and
(01:51):
practicing virtue. I have often observed that our Lord will
not give me any store of provisions, but nourishes me
each moment with food that is ever new. I find
it within me without knowing how it has come there.
I simply believe that it is Jesus himself hidden in
my poor heart, who is secretly at work inspiring me
(02:12):
with what he wishes me to do as each occasion arises.
Shortly before my profession, I received the Holy Father's blessing
through the hands of brother Simeon, and this precious blessing
undoubtedly helped me through the most terrible storm of my
whole life. On the eve of the Great Day, instead
of being filled with the customary sweetness, my vocation suddenly
(02:33):
seemed to me as unreal as a dream. The devil,
for it was, He made me feel sure that I
was wholly unsuited for life in the caramel, and that
I was deceiving my superiors by entering on a way
to which I was not called. The darkness was so
bewildering that I understood but one thing. I had no
religious vocation and must return to the world. I cannot
(02:55):
describe the agony I endured. What was I to do
in such a difficulty, I chose the right course, deciding
to tell my novice mistress of the temptation without delay.
I sent for her to come out of choir, and
though full of confusion, I confessed the state of my soul.
Fortunately she saw more clearly than I did, and reassured
me completely by laughing frankly at my story. The devil
(03:19):
was put to instant flight by my humble avowal. What
he wanted was to keep me from speaking and thus
draw me into his snares. But it was my turn
now to ensnare him, for to make my humiliation more complete.
I also told you everything, dear mother, and your consoling
words dispelled my last fears. On the morning of September eighth,
(03:39):
a wave of peace flooded my soul. And in that
piece which surpasseth all understanding Philippians four, verse seven, I
pronounced my holy vows. Many were the graces I asked.
I felt myself truly a queen, and took advantage of
my title to obtain every favor from the King for
his ungrateful subjects. No one was forgotten. I wish that
(04:02):
every sinner on earth might be converted, that on that
day Purgatory should set its captives free. And I bore
upon my heart this letter containing what I desired for myself.
Oh Jesus, my divine spouse, grant that my baptismal robe
may never be sullied. Take me from this world rather
than let me stain my soul by committing the least
wilful fault. May I never seek or find aught but
(04:25):
thee alone. May all creatures be nothing to me and
I nothing to them. May no earthly thing disturb my peace? Oh, Jesus,
I ask but peace, peace, and above all love, Love
without limit. Jesus, I ask that for thy sake I
may die a martyr. Give me martyrdom of soul or body,
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or rather give me both the one and the other.
Grant that I may fulfill my engagements in all their perfection,
that no one may think of me, that I may
be trodden under foot, forgotten as a little grain of sand.
I oft from myself to thee, Oh, my Beloved, that
thou mayest ever perfectly accomplish in me thy holy will,
(05:06):
without let or hindrance from creatures. When at the close
of this glorious day I laid my crown of roses,
according to custom, at our lady's feet, it was without regret.
I felt that time would never lessen my happiness. It
was the Nativity of Mary, What a beautiful feast on
which to become the spouse of Jesus. It was the
little newborn Holy Virgin who presented her little flower to
(05:29):
the little Jesus. That day. Everything was little except the
graces I received, except my peace and joy in gazing
upon the beautiful starlit sky at night, and in thinking
that soon I should fly away to heaven and be
united to my divine spouse. Amid eternal bliss. On September
twenty fourth took place the ceremony of my receiving the veil.
(05:50):
This feast was indeed veiled in tears. Papa was too
ill to come and bless his little queen. At the
last minute. Monseigneur Hugenen, who should have presided, was unable
to do so, and for other reasons also, the day
was a painful one, and yet amid it all, my
soul was profoundly at peace. That day. It pleased our
(06:10):
Lord that I should not be able to restrain my tears,
and those tears were not understood. It is true I
had borne far harder trials without shedding a tear, but
then I had been helped by special graces, Whilst on
this day Jesus left me to myself, and I soon
showed my weakness. Eight days after I had taken the veil,
my cousin Jean Garon, was married to doctor le Neil.
(06:34):
When she came to see us afterwards, and I heard
of all the little attentions she lavished on her husband,
my heart thrilled, and I thought it shall never be
said that a woman in the world does more for
her husband than I do for Jesus, my beloved and
filled with fresh ardor I set myself more earnestly than
ever to please my heavenly spouse, the King of Kings,
(06:55):
who had deigned to honor me by a divine alliance.
Having seen the letter announcing the marriage, I amuse myself
by composing the following invitation, which I read to the novices,
in order to bring home to them what has struck
me so forcibly, that the glory of all earthly unions
is as nothing compared to the titles of a spouse
of our Divine Lord, God, Almighty Creator of Heaven and Earth,
(07:19):
Sovereign Ruler of the Universe, and the glorious Virgin Mary,
Queen of the Heavenly Court, announced to you the spiritual
espousals of their august son, Jesus, King of Kings and
Lord of Lords, with Little Theres Martin, now Princess and
Lady of his kingdoms of the Holy Childhood, and the
passion assigned to her as a dowry by her divine spouse,
(07:40):
from which kingdoms she holds her titles of nobility of
the child Jesus and of the Holy Face. It was
not possible to invite you to the wedding feast which
took place on the mountain of Carmel September eighth, eighteen ninety.
The heavenly Court was alone admitted. But you are requested
to be present at the wedding feasts which will take
place tomorrow, the day of Eternity, when Jesus, the Son
(08:03):
of God will come in the clouds of heaven, in
the splendor of his majesty, to judge the living and
the dead. The hour being still uncertain, you are asked
to hold yourselves in readiness and watch. Footnote. This letter,
the style of which may seem strange to English ears,
is modeled closely on the formal and quaint letters, whereby
(08:23):
French parents of the better class announced to their friends
the marriage of their children. Such letters of fair part
are issued in the names of relatives to the third
and fourth degree. Editor and footnote And now, mother, what
more shall I say? It was through your hands that
I gave myself to our Lord, and you have known
me from childhood? Need I write my secrets? Forgive me
(08:47):
if I cut short the story of my religious life
during their general retreat. Following my profession, I receive great graces.
As a rule, I find preached retreats most trying, but
this one was quite an exception. I anticipated so much
suffering that I prepared myself by a fervent novena. It
was said that the Good Priest understood better how to
(09:07):
convert sinners than to direct the souls of nuns. Well,
then I must be a great sinner, for God made
use of this holy religious to bring me much consolation.
At that time I had all kinds of interior trials
which I found it impossible to explain to any one.
Suddenly I was able to lay open my whole soul.
The Father understood me in a marvelous way. He seemed
(09:29):
to divine my state, and launched me full sail upon
that ocean of confidence and love in which I had
longed to advance but so far had not dared. He
told me that my faults did not pain the Good God,
and added, at this moment, I hold his place, and
I assure you from him that he is well pleased
with your soul. How happy these consoling words made me.
(09:52):
I had never been told before that it was possible
for faults not to pain the sacred heart. This assurance
filled me with joy and helped me to bear with
patience the exile of this life. It was also the
echo of my inmost thoughts. In truth, I had long
known that the Lord is more tender than a mother,
and I have sounded the depths of more than one
mother's heart. I know that a mother is ever ready
(10:14):
to forgive her child's small, thoughtless faults. How often have
I not had this sweet experience. No reproach could have
touched me more than one single kiss from my mother.
My nature is such that fear makes me shrink, while
under love's sweet rule I not only advance, I fly.
Two months after this happy retreat, our venerable foundress, Mother
(10:35):
Genevieva Saint Teresa, quitted our little convent to enter the
heavenly Carmel. Before speaking of my impressions at the time
of her death, I should like to tell you what
a joy it was to have lived for some years
with a soul whose holiness was not inimitable, but lay
in the practice of simple and hidden virtues. More than
once she was to me a source of great consolation.
(10:58):
One Sunday I went to the infirmary to pay her
a visit, but as two of the older nuns were there,
I was retiring quietly when she called me and said,
with something of inspiration in her manner, Wait, my child,
I have just a word for you. You are always
asking me for a spiritual bouquet. Well to day I
give you this one. Serve the Lord in peace and
(11:20):
in joy. Remember that our God is the God of peace.
I thanked her quite simply and went out of the room.
I was moved almost to tears, and was convinced that
God had revealed to her the state of my soul.
That day. I had been sorely tried, almost to sadness.
Such was the darkness that I no longer knew if
I were beloved of God, and so, dear mother, you
(11:43):
can understand what light and consolation succeeded this gloom. The
following Sunday, I asked her whether she had received any
revelation about me, but she assured me that she had not,
and this only made me admire her the more, for
it showed how intimately Jesus lived in her soul and
directed her words and actions. Such holiness seems to me
(12:03):
the most true the most holy. It is the holiness
I desire, for it is free from all illusion. On
the day when this revered mother ended her exile, I
received a very special grace. It was the first time
I had assisted at a death bed. Yet, though the
sight enchanted me by its beauty, my two hours of
watching had made me very drowsy. I was grieved at this,
(12:25):
But at the moment her soul took its flight to Heaven,
my feelings were completely changed. In an instant, I was
filled with an indescribable joy and fervor, as if the
soul of our blessed foundress made me share in the
happiness she already enjoyed. For I am quite convinced she
went straight to heaven. I had said to her some
time previously, you will not go to purgatory, Dear mother,
(12:47):
I hope not, she answered sweetly. Certainly God would not
disappoint a hope so full of humility, And the proof
that he did not lies in the many favors we
have received. The sisters hastened to claim something below longing
to our beloved mother, and you know what a precious
relic is mine. During her agony, I had noticed a
tear glistening like a beautiful diamond. That tear, the last
(13:09):
she shed on this earth, did not fall. I still
saw it shining when her body was exposed in the choir.
When evening came, I made bold to approach unseen with
a little piece of linen, and I now have the
happiness of possessing the last tear of a saint. I
attach no importance to my dreams, and indeed they seldom
(13:29):
have any special meaning, though I do often wonder how
it is that as I think of God all the day,
my mind does not dwell on him more. In my sleep,
generally I dream of the woods and the flowers, the
brooks and the sea, and nearly always of pretty children.
Or I chase birds and butterflies such as I have
never seen. But if my dreams are sometimes poetical, they
(13:52):
are never mystical. However, one night after Mother Genevive's death,
I had a more consoling one. I thought I saw
her giving to each of us something that had belonged
to herself. When my turn came, her hands were empty,
and I was afraid I was not to receive anything.
But she looked at me lovingly and said three times
to you I leave my heart. About a month after
(14:15):
that seraphic death, towards the close of the year eighteen
ninety one, an epidemic of influenza raged in the community.
I only had it slightly and was able to be
about with two other sisters. It is impossible to imagine
the heartrending state of our Carmel Throughout those days of sorrow.
The worst sufferers were nursed by those who could hardly
drag themselves about. Death was all around us, and when
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a sister had breathed her last, we had to leave
her instantly. My nineteenth birthday was saddened by the death
of mother's sub prioress. I assisted with the infirmarian during
her agony, and two more deaths quickly followed. I now
had to do the sacristy work single handed, and I
wonder sometimes how I was equal to it all. One morning,
(15:00):
when it was time to rise, I had a presentiment
that Sister Magdalen was no more. The dormitory was quite
in darkness, no one was leaving her cell. I decided, however,
to go in to Sister Magdalen, and I found her
dressed but lying dead on her bed. I was not
in the least afraid and running to the sacristy, I
quickly brought a blessed candle and placed on her head
(15:21):
a wreath of roses. Amid all this desolation, I felt
the hand of God and knew that his heart was
watching over us. Our dear sisters left this life for
a happier one without any struggle. An expression of heavenly
joy shone on their faces, and they seemed only to
be enjoying a pleasant sleep. During all these long and
trying weeks, I had the unspeakable consolation of receiving Holy
(15:44):
communion every day. How sweet it was for a long time.
Jesus treated me as a spoilt child for a longer
time than his more faithful spouses. He came to me
daily for several months after the influenza had ceased, a
privilege not granted to the community. I had not asked
this favor, but I was unspeakably happy to be united
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day after day to my beloved. Great was my joy
in being allowed to touch the sacred vessels and prepare
the altar linen on which our Lord was to be laid.
I felt that I must increase in fervor, and I
often recalled those words addressed to deacons at their ordination.
Be you, holy, you who carry the vessels of the Lord.
What can I tell you, dear mother, about my thanksgivings
(16:26):
after communion? There is no time when I taste less consolation.
But this is what I should expect. I desire to
receive our Lord, not for my own satisfaction, but simply
to give him pleasure. I picture my soul as a
piece of waste ground, and beg our blessed lady to
take away my imperfections, which are as heaps of rubbish,
and to build upon it a splendid tabernacle worthy of heaven,
(16:50):
and adorn it with her own adornments. Then I invite
all the angels and saints to come and sing canticles
of love. And it seems to me that Jesus is
well pleased to see himself receive so good grandly, and
I share in his joy. But all this does not
prevent distractions and drowsiness from troubling me, And not unfrequently,
I resolved to continue my thanksgiving throughout the day, since
(17:11):
I made it so badly. Inquire you see, dear Mother,
that my way is not the way of fear. I
can always make myself happy and profit by my imperfections,
and our Lord himself encourages me in this path. Once,
contrary to my usual custom, I felt troubled when I
approached the Holy Table. For several days there had not
(17:31):
been a sufficient number of hosts, and I had only
received a small part of one. This morning, I foolishly thought,
if the same thing happens to day, I shall imagine
that Jesus does not care to come into my heart.
I approached the rails. What a joy awaited me. The
priest hesitated a moment, then gave me two entire hosts.
(17:51):
Was this not a sweet response? I have much to
be thankful for. I will tell you quite openly what
the Lord has done for me. He has shown unto
me the same mercy as unto King Solomon. All my
desires have been satisfied, not only my desires of perfection,
but even those of which I understood the vanity in theory,
if not in practice. I had always looked on Sister
(18:14):
Agnes of Jesus as my model, and I wished to
be like her in everything. She used to paint exquisite
miniatures and write beautiful poems, and this inspired me with
a desire to learn to paint. Footnote. Thees had kept
this wish hidden in her heart from the days of
her childhood, and later in life she made the following confidence.
I was ten the day Papa told Celine that she
(18:35):
was to begin painting lessons. I felt quite envious. Then
he turned to me and said, well, little queen, would
you like to learn painting too? I was going to
say yes, indeed, I should, when Marie remarked that I
had not the same taste for it as Celine. She
carried her point, and I said nothing, thinking it was
a splendid opportunity to make a big sacrifice for our Lord.
(18:59):
I was so anxious to learn that even now I
wonder how I was able to keep my silence and
footnote and express my thoughts in verse that I might
do some good to those around me. But I would
not ask for these natural gifts, and my desire remain
hidden in my heart. Jesus too had hidden himself in
this poor little heart, and he was pleased to show
(19:21):
me once more the vanity of all that passes, to
the great astonishment of the community. I succeeded in painting
several pictures and in writing poems which have been a
help to certain souls. And just as Solomon, turning to
all the works which his hand had wrought, and to
the labors wherein he had labored in vain, saw in
all things vanity and vexation of mind Ecclesiastes too, verse eleven.
(19:45):
So experience showed me that the sole happiness of earth
consists in lying hidden and remaining in total ignorance of
created things. I understood that without love, even the most
brilliant deeds count for nothing. These gifts which our Lord
lef upon me, far from doing me any harm, drew
me towards him. I saw that he alone is unchangeable.
(20:07):
He alone can fill the vast abyss of my desires.
Talking of my desires, I must tell you about others
of quite a different kind, which the Divine Master has
also been pleased to grant. Childish desires, like the wish
for snow on my clothing day. You know, dear mother,
how fond I am of flowers. When I made myself
a prisoner at the age of fifteen, I gave up
(20:29):
forever the delights of rambling through meadows bright with the
treasures of spring. Well, I never possessed so many flowers
as I have had since entering the caramel. In the world,
young men present their betrothed with beautiful bouquets, and Jesus
did not forget me for his altar. I received in
abundance all the flowers I loved best, corn flowers, poppies,
(20:50):
Marguerite's one little friend. Only was missing, the purple vetch.
I longed to see it again, And at last it
came to gladden me and show that in the least
as in the greatest, God gives a hundredfold even in
this life to those who have left all for his love.
But one desire the dearest of all, and for many reasons,
(21:11):
the most difficult remained unfulfilled. It was to see Celine
enter the carmel of Le Sieux. However, I had made
a sacrifice of my longing and committed to God alone
the future of my love sister. I was willing she
should be sent to far distant lands, if it must
be so, but I wanted above all things to see her,
like myself, the spouse of Jesus. I suffered deeply, aware
(21:34):
that she was exposed in the world to dangers I
had never even known. My affection for her was maternal
rather than sisterly, and I was filled with solicitude for
the welfare of her soul. She was to go one
evening with my aunt and cousins to a dance. I
know not why, but I felt more anxious than usual,
and I shed many tears, imploring our Lord to hinder
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her dancing. And this was just what happened, for He
did not suffer his little spouse to dance that evening,
although as a rule she did so most gracefully, and
to the astonishment of everyone. Her partner too, found that
he was only able to walk gravely up and down
with Mademoiselle. The poor young man slipped away in confusion
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and did not dare appear again that evening. This unique
occurrence increased my confidence in our Lord and showed me
clearly that he had already set his seal on my
sister's brow. On July twenty ninth, eighteen ninety four, God
called my saintly and much tried father to himself. For
the last two years of his life, he was completely paralyzed,
(22:37):
so my uncle took him into his house and surrounded
him with the tenderest care. He became quite helpless, and
was only able to visit us once during the whole
course of his illness. It was a sad interview. At
the moment of parting, as we said goodbye, he raised
his eyes and, pointing upwards, said, in a voice full
of tears in heaven, now that he was with God.
(22:59):
The last ties which kept his consoling angel in the
world were broken. Angels do not remain on this earth
when they have accomplished their mission. They return instantly to Heaven.
That is why they have wings. Seline tried, therefore, to
fly to the Carmel, but the obstacles seemed insurmountable. One day,
when matters were going from bad to worse, I said
(23:20):
to our Lord after holy communion, thou knowest, Dear Jesus,
how earnestly I have desired that the trials my father
endured should serve as his purgatory. I long to know
if my wish is granted. I do not ask THEE
to speak to me. I only want to sign Thou
knowest how much opposed is Sister end to Seline's entering.
If she withdraw her opposition, I shall regard it as
(23:43):
an answer from THEE. And in this way, I shall
know that my father went straight to heaven, God who
holds in his hand the hearts of his creatures and
inclines them as he will, deigned in his infinite mercy
and ineffable condescension to change that sister's mind. She was
the first person I met after my thanksgiving, and with
tears in her eyes, she spoke of Celine's entrance, which
(24:06):
she now ardently desired. Shortly afterwards the bishop set every
obstacle aside, and then you were able, dear mother, without
any hesitation, to open our doors to the poor little exile. Footnote.
Seline entered the convent on September fourteenth, eighteen ninety four,
and took the name of Sister Genevieve of Saint terreesa
(24:27):
and footnote. Now I have no desire left unless it
be to love Jesus, even unto folly. It is love
alone that draws me. I no longer wish either for
suffering or death, yet both are precious to me. Long
did I call upon them as the messengers of joy?
I have suffered much, and I have thought my little
bark near, indeed to the everlasting shore. From earliest childhood
(24:50):
I have imagined that the little flower would be gathered
in its springtime. Now the spirit of self abandonment alone
is my guide. I have no other compass, and know
not how to ask anything with eagerness save the perfect
accomplishment of God's designs upon my soul. I can say
these words of the canticle of our father, Saint John
of the Cross. I drank deep in the cellar of
(25:13):
my friend, and coming forth again, knew not of all
this plain and lost the flock I ursed, was wont
to tend my soul, and all its wealth I gave
to be his own. No more I tend my flock.
All other work is done, and all my exercise is
love alone. Spiritual canticle stands as eighteen and twenty. Or rather,
(25:35):
love hath so wrought in me since I have known
its sway, that all within me, whether good or ill,
it makes subservient to the end it seeks, and soon
transforms my soul into itself Him to the deity. Full
sweet is the way of love. It is true one
may fall and be unfaithful to grace, but love, knowing
(25:56):
how to profit by everything, quickly consumes whatever is pleasing
to Jesus. Leaving in the heart only a deep and
humble peace. I have obtained many spiritual lights through the
works of Saint John of the Cross. When I was
seventeen and eighteen, they were my only food. But later
on and even now, all spiritual authors leave me cold
(26:16):
and dry. However beautiful in touching a book may be,
my heart does not respond, and I read without understanding,
or if I understand, I cannot meditate in my helplessness.
The Holy Scriptures and the Imitation are of the greatest assistance.
In them I find a hidden manner, genuine and pure.
But it is from the Gospels that I find most
(26:39):
help in the time of prayer. From them I draw
all that I need for my poor soul. I am
always discovering in them new lights and hidden mysteries of meaning.
I know, and I have experienced, that the Kingdom of
God is within us. Luke seventeen, verse twenty one. Our
Lord has no need of books or teachers to instruct
our souls. He the teature of teachers, instructs us without
(27:02):
any noise of words. I have never heard him speak,
yet I know he is within me. He is there
always guiding and inspiring me, and just when I need them,
lights hitherto unseen break in. This is not a rule
during my prayers, but in the midst of my daily duties. Sometimes, however,
as this evening, at the close of a meditation spent
(27:24):
in utter dryness, a word of comfort is given to me.
Here is the Master, I give THEE. He will teach
THEE all that thou shouldst do. I wish THEE to
read in the Book of Life, in which is contained
the Science of Love. Footnote Revelation of Our Lord to
Blessed Margaret Mary, and footnote the Science of Love. How
(27:45):
sweetly do these words echo in my soul? That science
alone do I desire, having given all my substance for it.
Like the spouse in the Canticles, I think that I
have given nothing Cantacles eight, verse seven. After so many graces,
may I not sing with the Psalmist that the Lord
is good, that his mercy endureth forever Psalm one, O
(28:08):
three one O four verse one. It seems to me
that if everyone were to receive such favors, God would
be feared by none but love to excess, that no
one would ever commit the least wilful fault. And this
through love not fear. Yet all souls cannot be alike.
It is necessary that they should differ from one another,
(28:28):
in order that each divine perfection may receive its special honor.
To me he has given his infinite mercy, And it
is in this ineffable mirror that I contemplate his other attributes.
Therein all appear to me radiant with love. His justice,
even more perhaps than the rest, seems to me to
be clothed with love. What joy to think that our
(28:51):
Lord is just, that is to say that he takes
our weakness into account, that he knows perfectly the frailty
of our nature. Of what then, need I be afraid?
Will not the God of infinite justice, who deign so
lovingly to pardon the sins of the prodigal sin, be
also just to me, who am always with him Luke fifteen,
(29:12):
verse thirty one. In the year eighteen ninety five, I
received the grace to understand more than ever how much
Jesus desires to be loved. Thinking one day of those
who offer themselves as victims to the justice of God
in order to turn aside the punishment reserved for sinners
by taking it upon themselves, I felt this offering to
be noble and generous, but was very far from feeling
(29:34):
myself drawn to make it, O, my Divine Master, I
cried from the bottom of my heart. Shall thy justice
alone receive victims of holocaust? Has not thy merciful love
also need thereof? On all sides it is ignored, rejected
the hearts on which thou wouldst lavish it. Turn to
creatures there to seek their happiness in the miserable satisfaction
(29:56):
of a moment, instead of casting themselves into thine arms,
into the unfathomable furnace of thy infinite love, O, my God,
must thy love, which is disdain lie hidden in thy heart? Methinks,
if thou shouldst find souls offering themselves as victims of
holocaust to thy love, thou wouldst consume them rapidly. Thou
wouldst be well pleased to suffer the flames of infinite
(30:19):
tenderness to escape that are imprisoned in thy heart. If
thy justice, which is of earth, must needs be satisfied,
how much more must thy merciful love desire to inflame souls?
Since thy mercy reaches even to the heavens. Footnote cross
reference Psalm thirty five thirty six, verse six, and footnote,
(30:41):
Oh Jesus, let me be that happy victim consume thy
holocaust with the fire of divine love. Dear Mother, you
know the love, or rather the oceans of grace, which
flooded my soul immediately after I made that active oblation
on June ninth, eighteen ninety five. From that day I
have been penetrated and sir with love every moment. This
(31:02):
merciful love renews me and purifies me, leaving in my
soul no trace of sin. I cannot fear purgatory. I
know I do not merit to enter even into that
place of expiation with the holy souls. But I also
know that the fire of love is more sanctifying than
the fire of purgatory. I know that Jesus could not
wish useless suffering for us, and he would not inspire
(31:25):
me with the desires I feel, were he not willing
to fulfill them. And of Chapter eight
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