Part 6 (1/2)
Yes, Our Lord has done all this for me. I might take each word of that striking pa.s.sage and show how it has been completely realised in me, but the graces of which I have already told you are sufficient proof. So I will only speak now of the food with which my Divine Master abundantly provided me. For a long time I had nourished my spiritual life with the ”fine flour” contained in the _Imitation of Christ._ It was the only book which did me good, for I had not yet found the treasures hidden in the Holy Gospels. I always had it with me, to the amus.e.m.e.nt of my people at home. My aunt used often to open it, and make me repeat by heart the first chapter she chanced to light upon.
Seeing my great thirst for knowledge, G.o.d was pleased, when I was fourteen, to add to the ”fine flour,” ”honey” and ”oil” in abundance.
This ”honey” and ”oil” I found in the conferences of Father Arminjon on _The End of this World and the Mysteries of the World to Come._ While reading this book my soul was flooded with a happiness quite supernatural. I experienced a foretaste of what G.o.d has prepared for those who love Him; and, seeing that eternal rewards are so much in excess of the petty sacrifices of this life, I yearned to love Our Lord, to love Him pa.s.sionately, and to give Him countless proofs of affection while this was still in my power.
Celine had become the most intimate sharer of my thoughts, especially since Christmas. Our Lord, Who wished to make us advance in virtue together, drew us to one another by ties stronger than blood. He made us sisters in spirit as well as in the flesh. The words of our Holy Father, St. John of the Cross, were realised in us:
Treading within Thy Footsteps Young maidens lightly run upon the way.
From the spark's contact, And the spiced wine, They give forth aspirations of a balm divine.
It was lightly indeed that we followed in the footsteps of Our Saviour. The burning sparks which He cast into our souls, the strong wine which He gave us to drink, made us lose sight of all earthly things, and we breathed forth sighs of love.
Very sweet is the memory of our intercourse. Every evening we went up to our attic window together and gazed at the starry depths of the sky, and I think very precious graces were bestowed on us then. As the _Imitation_ says: ”G.o.d communicates Himself sometimes amid great light, at other times sweetly in signs and figures.”[6]
In this way He deigned to manifest Himself to our hearts; but how slight and transparent was the veil! Doubt was no longer possible; already Faith and Hope had given place to Love, which made us find Him whom we sought, even on this earth. When He found us alone--”He gave us His kiss, and now no one may despise us.”[7]
These divine impressions could not but bear fruit. The practice of virtue gradually became sweet and natural to me. At first my looks betrayed the effort, but, little by little, self-sacrifice seemed to come more easily and without hesitation. Our Lord has said: ”To everyone that hath shall be given, and he shall abound.”[8]
Each grace faithfully received brought many others. He gave Himself to me in Holy Communion oftener than I should have dared to hope. I had made it my practice to go to Communion as often as my confessor allowed me, but never to ask for leave to go more frequently. Now, however, I should act differently, for I am convinced that a soul ought to disclose to her director the longing she has to receive her G.o.d. He does not come down from Heaven each day in order to remain in a golden ciborium, but to find another Heaven--the Heaven of our souls in which He takes such delight.
Our Lord, Who knew my desire, inspired my confessor to allow me to go to Communion several times a week, and this permission, coming as it did straight from Him, filled me with joy.
In those days I did not dare to speak of my inner feelings; the road which I trod was so direct, so clear, that I did not feel the need of any guide but Jesus. I compared directors to mirrors who faithfully reflect Our Saviour to the souls under their care, and I thought that in my case He did not use an intermediary but acted directly.
When a gardener gives special attention to a fruit which he wishes to ripen early, he does so, not with a view to leaving it on the tree, but in order to place it on a well-spread table. Our Lord lavished His favours on His Little Flower in the same way. He wishes His Mercies to s.h.i.+ne forth in me--He Who, while on earth, cried out in a transport of joy: ”I bless Thee, O Father, because Thou hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent and hast revealed them to little ones.”[9]
And because I was small and frail, He bent down to me and instructed me sweetly in the secrets of His love. As St. John of the Cross says in his ”Canticle of the Soul”:
On that happy night In secret I went forth, beheld by none, And seeing naught; Having no light nor guide Excepting that which burned within my heart,
Which lit my way More safely than the glare of noon-day sun To where, expectant, He waited for me Who doth know me well, Where none appeared but He.
This place was Carmel, but before I could ”sit down under His Shadow Whom I desired,”[10] I had to pa.s.s through many trials. And yet the Divine Call was becoming so insistent that, had it been necessary for me to go through fire, I would have thrown myself into it to follow my Divine Master.
Pauline[11] was the only one who encouraged me in my vocation; Marie thought I was too young, and you, dear Mother, no doubt to prove me, tried to restrain my ardour. From the start I encountered nothing but difficulties. Then, too, I dared not speak of it to Celine, and this silence pained me deeply; it was so hard to have a secret she did not share.
However, this dear sister soon found out my intention, and, far from wis.h.i.+ng to keep me back, she accepted the sacrifice with wonderful courage. As she also wished to be a nun, she ought to have been given the first opportunity; but, imitating the martyrs of old, who used joyfully to embrace those chosen to go before them into the arena, she allowed me to leave her, and took my troubles as much to heart as if it were a question of her own vocation. From Celine, then, I had nothing to fear, but I did not know how to set about telling Papa. How could his little Queen talk of leaving him when he had already parted with his two eldest daughters? Moreover, this year he had been stricken with a serious attack of paralysis, and though he recovered quickly we were full of anxiety for the future.
What struggles I went through before I could make up my mind to speak! But I had to act decisively; I was now fourteen and a half, and in six months' time the blessed feast of Christmas would be here. I had resolved to enter the Carmel at the same hour at which a year before I had received the grace of conversion.
I chose the feast of Pentecost on which to make my great disclosure. All day I was praying for light from the Holy Ghost, and begging the Apostles to pray for me, to inspire me with the words I ought to use. Were they not the very ones to help a timid child whom G.o.d destines to become an apostle of apostles by prayer and sacrifice?
In the afternoon, when Vespers were over, I found the opportunity I wanted. My Father was sitting in the garden, his hands clasped, admiring the wonders of nature. The rays of the setting sun gilded the tops of the tall trees, and the birds chanted their evening prayer.
His beautiful face wore a heavenly expression--I could feel that his soul was full of peace. Without a word, I sat down by his side, my eyes already wet with tears. He looked at me with indescribable tenderness, and, pressing me to his heart, said: ”What is it, little Queen? Tell me everything.” Then, in order to hide his own emotion, he rose and walked slowly up and down, still holding me close to him.
Through my tears I spoke of the Carmel and of my great wish to enter soon. He, too, wept, but did not say a word to turn me from my vocation; he only told me that I was very young to make such a grave decision, and as I insisted, and fully explained my reasons, my n.o.ble and generous Father was soon convinced. We walked about for a long time; my heart was lightened, and Papa no longer shed tears. He spoke to me as Saints speak, and showed me some flowers growing in the low stone wall. Picking one of them, he gave it to me, and explained the loving care with which G.o.d had made it spring up and grow till now.
I fancied myself listening to my own story, so close was the resemblance between the little flower and little Therese. I received this floweret as a relic, and noticed that in gathering it my Father had pulled it up by the roots without breaking them; it seemed destined to live on, but in other and more fertile soil.
Papa had just done the same for me. He allowed me to leave the sweet valley, where I had pa.s.sed the first years of my life, for the mountain of Carmel. I fastened my little white flower to a picture of Our Lady of Victories--the Blessed Virgin smiles on it, and the Infant Jesus seems to hold it in His Hand. It is there still, but the stalk is broken close to the root. G.o.d doubtless wishes me to understand that He will soon break all the earthly ties of His Little Flower and will not leave her to wither on this earth.
Having obtained my Father's consent, I thought I could now fly to the Carmel without hindrance. Far from it! When I told my uncle of my project, he declared that to enter such a severe Order at the age of fifteen seemed to him against all common sense, and that it would be doing a wrong to religion to let a child embrace such a life. He added that he should oppose it in every way possible, and that nothing short of a miracle would make him change his mind.