Part 22 (1/2)
”I should like always to see you a brave soldier, never grumblng at hards.h.i.+ps, but considering the wounds of your companions as most serious, and your own as mere scratches. You feel this fatigue so much because no one is aware of it.
”Now the Blessed Margaret Mary, at the time she had two whitlows, confessed that she really suffered from the hidden one only. The other, which she was unable to hide, excited her Sisters' pity and made her an object of compa.s.sion. This is indeed a very natural feeling, the desire that people should know of our aches and pains, but in giving way to it we play the coward.”
”When we are guilty of a fault we must never attribute it to some physical cause, such as illness or the weather. We must ascribe it to our own imperfections, without being discouraged thereby.
'Occasions do not make a man frail, but show what he is.'”[8]
”G.o.d did not permit that our Mother should tell me to write my poems as soon as I had composed them, and, fearful of committing a sin against poverty, I would not ask leave. I had therefore to wait for some free time, and at eight o'clock in the evening I often found it extremely difficult to remember what I had composed in the morning.
”True, these trifles are a species of martyrdom; but we must be careful not to alleviate the pain of the martyrdom by permitting ourselves, or securing permission for, a thousand and one things which would tend to make the religious life both comfortable and agreeable.”
One day, as I was in tears, Soeur Therese told me to avoid the habit of allowing others to see the trifles that worried me, adding that nothing made community life more trying than unevenness of temper.
”You are indeed right, I answered, ”such was my own thought.
Henceforward my tears will be for G.o.d alone. I shall confide my worries to One Who will understand and console me.”
”Tears for G.o.d!” she promptly replied, ”that must not be. Far less to Him than to creatures ought you to show a mournful face. Our Divine Master has only our monasteries where He may obtain some solace for His Heart. He comes to us in search of rest--to forget the unceasing complaints of His friends in the world, who, instead of appreciating the value of the Cross, receive it far more often with moans and tears. Would you then be as the mediocre souls?
Frankly, this is not disinterested love... . _It is for us to console our Lord, and not for Him to console us._ His Heart is so tender that if you cry He will dry your tears; but thereafter He will go away sad, since you did not suffer Him to repose tranquilly within you. Our Lord loves the glad of heart, the children that greet Him with a smile. When will you learn to hide your troubles from Him, or to tell Him gaily that you are happy to suffer for Him?”
”The face is the mirror of the soul,” she said once, ”and yours, like that of a contented little child, should always be calm and serene. Even when alone, be cheerful, remembering always that you are in the sight of the Angels.”
I was anxious she should congratulate me on what, in my eyes, was an heroic act of virtue; but she said to me:
”Compare this little act of virtue with what our Lord has the right to expect of you! Rather should you humble yourself for having lost so many opportunities of proving your love.”
Little satisfied with this answer, I awaited an opportunity of finding out how Soeur Therese herself would act under trial, and the occasion was not long in coming. Reverend Mother asked us to do some extremely tiring work which bristled with difficulties, and, on purpose, I made it still more difficult for our Mistress.
Not for one second, however, could I detect her in fault, and, heedless of the fatigue involved, she remained gracious and amiable, eager throughout to help others at her own expense. At last I could resist no longer, and I confessed to her what my thoughts had been.
”How comes it,” I said, ”that you can be so patient? You are ever the same--calm and full of joy.” ”It was not always the case with me,” she replied, ”but since I have abandoned all thought of self-seeking, I live the happiest life possible.”
Our dear Mistress used to say that during recreation, more than at any other time, we should find opportunities for practising virtue.
”If your desire be to draw great profit, do not go with the idea of procuring relaxation, but rather with the intention of entertaining others and practising complete detachment from self.
Thus, for instance, if you are telling one of the Sisters something you think entertaining, and she should interrupt to tell you something else, show yourself interested, even though in reality her story may not interest you in the least. Be careful, also, not to try to resume what you were saying. In this way you will leave recreation filled with a great interior peace and endowed with fresh strength for the practice of virtue, because you have not sought to please yourself, but others. If only we could realise what we gain by self-denial in all things!”
”You realise it, certainly, for you have always practised self-denial.”