Mary Fotheringham's Prayer Book (1720)
Mary Teresa Fotheringham
This Book belonged to my
dearest Aunt Fotheringham
& was given me my beloved
Grandmamma after my Aunty's
death.
Mary Teresa Fotheringham
departed this life Monday the
7th March 1831 & was buried the
12th March 1831 in the vaults
under the Chapel at Bath.
R.I.P.
After the dissolution of Bath Abbey in 1539, most of the Benedictine Mission fled overseas. but a small remnant stayed on. In 1809, the Mission purchased a building that had housed the Theatre Royal from 1750-1905. This theatre features in Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey. The building was converted into a Catholic Chapel. A floor was laid over the theatre's pit, creating vaults that were used for burials. This is presumably where Mary Fotheringham would have been buried.
A new Catholic church was built and consecrated in 1863 and the burials were moved to Perrymead Cemetery, a newly acquired site in Prior Park Estate. Only a few of those buried in the Old Chapel were reburied in Perrymead. Enquiries at Bath Record Office indicate that the 65 recorded reburials are not identified. Could this be Mary Fotheringham's final resting place on earth?
A Summary of the Contents
The printed pages contain:- A liturgical calendar
- A Table of Moveable Feasts from 1720-1745
- A Daily Exercise (miscellaneous prayers in English)
- The 'Office of the B.V. Mary' (English)
- The Office of the Dead (English)
- The Rosary: 'The method of saying the Rosary of Our Blessed Lady in Latin and English; as it was ordered by Pope Pius V of the holy Order of Preachers; and as it is said in Catholic Chapels.'
- The Litanies of Our Blessed Lady (Latin and English)
- Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament (English)
- Pages 351-464 missing
- The Seven Penitential Psalms (English)
- The Litanies of Saints (Latin and English)
- The Litanies of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ (page 500 only, in English)
Prière d'un âme embrasée d'amour & de zèle
Prayer of a soul on fire with love and zeal
The original French version is posted under the French tab. Out of over 540 words, there are four that I have had difficulty in reading clearly in French. If you are a native French speaker, your suggestions would be most gratefully received.
My translation of the prayer into English follows below.
O my God, through the superabundant love you have for us, take one of your arrows and dip it in the precious blood of your dear son, Jesus, and plunge it in our hearts, that we may become like a wounded deer, knowing no rest until falling with love into the arms of our beloved Saviour. O Mary! O Joseph! All ye angels and saints of Heaven, join together to ask God to grant us this signal favour, the object of my most ardent desire.
O Mary, most beloved of mothers, I place my soul in thy hands to keep it safe. O my tender Mother, vouchsafe to grant unto me one spark of the burning love thou hast for God. Thou didst intercede with thy son on behalf of the bride and groom who had run out of wine at their wedding feast. Speak to thy son about us:
'They do not have your love; help them to love you. I am the mother not only of the just but also of sinners, who languish in the terrible condition of sin. As soon as a sinner wants to amend his life and comes to me for help, I fly to his rescue. Aim to break the chains of sin and have recourse to me to obtain the necessary courage. You will not call upon me in vain. Your sins make you unworthy to be heard, but my merits intercede on your behalf to make you worthy.
'I am like a tender mother with two sons who are mortal enemies. One son seeks to take the life of the other but their mother seeks reconciliation between them. I am ever mindful that Jesus Christ is my son and that sinners too are my sons. I am always ready to receive those whose sins have made them enemies of God. I pay no attention to the number and gravity of the sins committed by the one having recourse to me; but rather what counts for me is the intention in his heart. If he truly wants to be healed, then I will certainly offer him a cure for his wounds. For I am truly a merciful mother.
'I tell my son: It's your mother who is pleading for this sinner; he is my son and I am his mother. He loves me and I love him. Grant him forgiveness and offer him the embrace of peace. Words cannot express the kindness, the mercy and the love I feel when I try to save those who call upon my aid. Come close to me with confidence. Hold fast to me and don't leave me until I have given you a blessing.'
O Mary, I come to thee; thou lovest those who love thee. I love thee and I want to love thee always. O my sweet mother, increase still more the love I have for thee. I shall stay always united to thee and thou wilt have compassion upon me. Thou wilt pray for me and I shall be granted forgiveness for my detestable sins. Folded in thy arms, dwelling within thy heart, I shall die in the confidence of being granted salvation.
The Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary
The Little Office is in English. The 1720 translations of the five Office hymns may be of interest to students of Latin and for those familiar with more modern translations. The have been included in the Latin tab.Over the next few posts, I plan to introduce readers to the autobiography of St Therese, using my French edition of her story published shortly after her death in 1897. Here is the title page:
THERESE
I want to spend my time in Heaven doing good on earth.
of the Child Jesus
and the Holy face
Died in the odour of sanctity in the Carmel convent at Lisieux
the 30th of September 1897 at the age of 24
He that is a little one, let him turn to me. [Prov IX, 16]
The Autobiography of St Therese of Lisieux
written by herself
Letters and Poems
Fortieth thousand
After my death, I will let fall a shower of roses.
For those who want to read the autobiography in English for free online, please visit Story of a Soul. For those who want to listen to the autobiography, please visit The Story of a Soul.
Her family
Her father, Louis-Joseph-Stanislas Martin, was born in 1823 in Bordeaux where his father was posted as a sea-captain. He went all the way to Switzerland to try his vocation in the Abbey of Great St Bernard but was not accepted as a novice because he had not yet finished his Latin studies. His vocation was to be the father of a large family. He married Zélie Guérin in 1858 in Alençon, their native town.Here are the nine children of this marriage:
- Marie-Louise (1860-1940, Carmelite sister)
- Marie-Pauline (1861-1951, Mother Agnès, Carmelite)
- Marie-Léonie (1863-1941), Order of the Visitation)
- Marie-Hélène (died aged four and a half)
- Marie-Joseph-Louis (died aged five months)
- Marie-Joseph-Jean-Baptiste (died aged nine months)
- Marie-Céline (1869-1959, Carmelite sister)
- Marie-Mélanie-Thérèse (died aged 3 months)
- Marie-Françoise-Thérèse (2 January 1873 - 30 September 1897)
Chapter I
- The first notes in a hymn of love
- A mother's heart
- Memories from the ages of two to four
Here is one little story from this chapter:
I remember a dream I had at that age which impressed itself very deeply on my memory. I thought I was walking alone in the garden when, suddenly, I saw near the arbour two hideous little devils dancing with surprising agility on a barrel of lime, in spite of the heavy irons attached to their feet.
At first they cast fiery glances at me; then, as though suddenly terrified, I saw them, in the twinkling of an eye, throw themselves down to the bottom of the barrel, from which they came out somehow, only to run and hide themselves in the laundry which opened into the garden.
Finding them such cowards, I wanted to know what they were going to do, and, overcoming my fears, I went to the window. The wretched little creatures were there, running about on the tables, not knowing how to hide themselves from my gaze. From time to time they came nearer, peering through the windows with an uneasy air, then, seeing that I was still there, they began to run about again looking quite desperate.
Of course this dream was nothing extraordinary; yet I think Our Lord made use of it to show me that a soul in the state of grace has nothing to fear from the devil, who is a coward, and will even fly from the gaze of a little child.
Chapter II
- Death of her mother
- Les Buissonets
- Paternal love
- First confession
- Winter evenings
- Prophetic vision
Therese's mother died in her 46th year in 1877, leaving her husband and five daughters. The two eldest daughters, Marie and Pauline, took on the role of mother. The father moved the family from Alençon to Lisieux, to a large house called Les Buissonets, to be near their uncle and aunt.
Excerpts
I could tell you much about our winter evenings at home. After a game of draughts my sisters read aloud Dom Guéranger's Liturgical Year,and then a few pages of some other interesting and instructive book. While this was going on I established myself on Papa's knee, and when the reading was done he used to sing soothing snatches of melody in his beautiful voice, as if to lull me to sleep, and I would lay my head on his breast while he rocked
me gently to and fro.
Chapter III
- School
- A painful separation
- A strange illness
- The Queen of Heaven's smile
The Lord has stretched forth his hand, he has delivered me from my terrible enemy. He has saved because he was well-pleased with me. [Based on Psalm XVIII]
Therese started school when she was eight and a half years old. All the other girls were older but she was nearly always top of the class. She was very affected by the departure of her 'little mother', her big sister Marie, to become a cloistered Carmelite nun.
Excerpts
I sought the company of my little cousin Marie, because she left me free to choose the games I
liked best. We were already closely united in heart and will, as if God were showing us in advance how one day in the Carmel we should embrace the same religious life.
Very often, at my uncle's house, we used to play at being two austere hermits, with only a poor hut, a little patch of corn, and a garden in which to grow a few vegetables. Our life was to be spent in continual contemplation, one praying while the other engaged in active duties. All was done with religious gravity and decorum. If we went out, the make-believe continued even in the street; the two hermits would say the Rosary, using their fingers to count on, so as not to display their devotion before those who might scoff.
One day, however, the hermit Thérèse forgot herself—before eating a cake, given her for lunch, she made a large Sign of the Cross, and some worldly folk did not repress a smile.
Towards the end of 1882, when she was nine years old, Therese started to suffer from persistent headaches which eventually became acute.
I do not know how to describe this extraordinary illness. I said things which I had never thought of; I acted as though I were forced to act in spite of myself; I seemed nearly always to be delirious; and yet I feel certain that I was never, for a minute, deprived of my reason. Sometimes I remained in a state of extreme exhaustion for hours together, unable to make the least movement, and yet, in spite of this extraordinary torpor, hearing the least whisper. I remember it still. And what fears the devil inspired! I was afraid of everything; my bed seemed to be surrounded by frightful precipices; nails in the wall took the terrifying appearance of long fingers, shrivelled and blackened with fire, making me cry out in terror.
...finding no help on earth and nearly dead with pain, turned to my Heavenly Mother, begging her from the bottom of my heart to have pity on me. Suddenly the statue seemed to come to life and grow beautiful, with a divine beauty that I shall never find words to describe.
The expression of Our Lady's face was ineffably sweet, tender, and compassionate; but what touched me to the very depths of my soul was her gracious smile. Then, all my pain vanished, two big tears started to my eyes and fell silently. . . .
They were indeed tears of unmixed heavenly joy. "Our Blessed Lady has come to me, she has smiled at me. How happy I am, but I shall tell no one, or my happiness will leave me!" Such were my thoughts. Looking around, I recognised Marie; she seemed very much overcome, and looked lovingly at me, as though she guessed that I had just received a great grace.
Indeed her prayers had gained me this unspeakable favour—a smile from the Blessed Virgin! When she saw me with my eyes fixed on the statue, she said to herself: "Thérèse is cured!" And it was true. The Little Flower had come to life again—a bright ray from its glorious Sun had warmed and set it free for ever from its cruel enemy. "The dark winter is past, the rain is over and gone," and Our Lady's Little Flower gathered such strength that five years later it opened wide its petals on the fertile mountain of Carmel.
Chapter IV
- First Communion
- Confirmation
- Light and darkness
- A new separation
- Gracious deliverance from interior sufferings
Excerpt
At last there dawned 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 reverent and tender embraces 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 I could not tell you all. Some things lose their fragrance when exposed to the air, and so, too, one's inmost thoughts cannot be translated into earthly words without instantly losing their deep and heavenly meaning.
 |
| Peace be with thee |
Chapter V
Continuing this series of posts giving you a flavour of the autobiography of St Therese of Lisieux. She lived a very private life and became a cloistered, Carmelite nun. She died very young at the age of 24. Despite this, she was to become one of the most widely known saints in history - and one of the favourite, with Christians of all ages and backgrounds.
- The grace of Christmas
- Zeal for souls
- First success
- Sweet intimacy with her sister Céline
- She obtains her father's permission to enter the Carmelite convent at 15
- Refusal by the Superior
- She appeals to the bishop of Bayeux
...if you ask the Father any thing in my name, he will give it you. John XVI, 23
Excerpts
First success in saving a soul
One Sunday, closing my book at the end of Mass, a picture of Our Lord on the Cross half slipped out, showing only one of His Divine Hands, pierced and bleeding. I felt an indescribable thrill such as I had never felt before. My heart was torn with grief to see that Precious Blood falling to the ground, and no one caring to treasure It as It fell, and I resolved to remain continually in spirit at the foot of the Cross, that I might receive the Divine Dew of Salvation and pour it forth upon souls. From that day the cry of my dying Saviour—"I thirst!"—sounded incessantly in my heart, and kindled therein a burning zeal hitherto unknown to me. My one desire was to give my Beloved to drink; I felt myself consumed with thirst for souls, and I longed at any cost to snatch sinners from the everlasting flames of hell.
In order still further to enkindle my ardour, Our Divine Master soon proved to me how pleasing to him was my desire. Just then I heard much talk of a notorious criminal, Pranzini, who was sentenced to death for several shocking murders, and, as he was quite impenitent, everyone feared he would be eternally lost. How I longed to avert this irreparable calamity! In order to do so I employed all the spiritual means I could think of, and, knowing that my own efforts were unavailing, I offered for his pardon the infinite merits of Our Saviour and the treasures of Holy Church.Need I say that in the depths of my heart I felt certain my request would be granted? But, that I might gain courage to persevere in the quest for souls, I said in all simplicity: "My God, I am quite sure that Thou wilt pardon this unhappy Pranzini. I should still think so if he did not confess his sins or give any sign of sorrow, because I have such confidence in Thy unbounded Mercy; but this is my first sinner, and therefore I beg for just one sign of repentance to reassure me."
My prayer was granted to the letter. My Father never allowed us to read the papers, but I did not think there was any disobedience in looking at the part about Pranzini. The day after his execution I hastily opened the paper, La Croix, and what did I see? Tears betrayed my emotion; I was obliged to run out of the room. Pranzini had mounted the scaffold without confessing or receiving absolution, and the executioners were already dragging him towards the fatal block, when all at once, apparently in answer to a sudden inspiration, he turned round, seized the crucifix which the Priest was offering to him, and kissed Our Lord's Sacred Wounds three times. . . .
Influential books: the food 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 amusement 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. [Latin on scroll: Qui sequitur me non ambulat in tenebris : he that followeth me, walketh not in darkness... John VIII, 12]
Seeing my great thirst for knowledge, God 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 God 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 passionately, and to give Him countless proofs of affection while this was still in my power.
Chapter VI
- Journey to Rome
- Audience with His Holiness Leo XIII
- Response of Monseigneur the Bishop of Bayeux
- Three months of waiting
Excerpts
Rome: St Cecilia
From the Coliseum we went to the Catacombs, and there Céline and I laid ourselves down in what had once been the tomb of St. Cecilia, and took
some of the earth sanctified by her holy remains. Before our journey to
Rome I had not felt any special devotion to St. Cecilia, but on visiting the house where she was martyred, and hearing her proclaimed "Queen of harmony"—because of the sweet song she sang in her heart to her Divine Spouse—I felt more than devotion towards her, it was real love as for a friend. She became my chosen patroness, and the keeper of all my secrets; her abandonment to God and her boundless confidence delighted me beyond measure. They were so great that they enabled her to make souls pure which had never till then desired aught but earthly pleasures.
St. Cecilia is like the Spouse in the Canticles. I find in her the Scriptural
"choir in an armed camp."[10] Her life was one melodious song in the midst
of the greatest trials; and this is not strange, because we read that "the Book
of the Holy Gospels lay ever on her heart,"[11] while in her heart reposed
the Spouse of Virgins.
Chapter VII
- Therese enters the sacred Ark
- First trials
- Divine betrothal
- Snow
- A great sorrow
...there is no man who hath left house or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or children, or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, [30] Who shall not receive an hundred times as much [Mark X, 29-30}
Excerpts
Carmel
Monday, April 9, 1888, being the Feast of the Annunciation, transferred from Passiontide, was the day chosen for me to enter the Carmel. On the evening before, we were gathered around the table where I was to take my place for the last time. These farewells are in themselves heartrending, and just when I would have liked to be forgotten I received the tenderest expressions of affection, as if to increase the pain of parting.
The next morning, after a last look at the happy home of my childhood, I set out for the Carmel, where we all heard Mass. At the moment of Communion, when Jesus had entered our hearts, I heard sobs on all sides. I did not shed a tear, but as I led the way to the cloister door my heart beat so violently that I wondered if I were going to die. Oh, the agony of that moment! One must have experienced it in order to understand. I embraced all my dear ones and knelt for my Father's blessing. He, too, knelt down and blessed me through his tears. It was a sight to gladden the Angels, this old man giving his child to God while she was yet in the springtime of life. At length the doors of the Carmel closed upon me. . . . I found a welcome in your arms, dear Mother, and received the embraces of another family, whose devotion and love is not dreamed of by the outside world.At last my desires were realised, and I cannot describe the deep sweet peace which filled my soul. This peace has remained with me during the eight and a half years of my life here, and has never left me even amid the greatest
trials.
Suffering and trials
Suffering opened her arms to me from the first, and I took her to my heart. In the solemn examination before my profession I declared—as was customary—the reason of my entry into the Carmel: "I have come to save souls, and especially to pray for Priests." One cannot attain the end without adopting the means, and as Our Lord made me understand that it was by the Cross He would give me souls, the more crosses I met with, the stronger grew my attraction to suffering. For five years this way was mine, but I alone knew it; this was precisely the flower I wished to offer to Jesus, a hidden flower which keeps its perfume only for Heaven.
After a photograph of January 1889
St Therese: Chapter VIII
- Divine nuptials
- Graces on retreat
- A saint's last teardrop
- Death of her father
- How Our Lord surpasses all her wishes
- Love's victim
A wedding invitation with some humour
Eight days after I had taken the veil my cousin, Jeanne Guérin, was married to Dr. La Néele. 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 ardour, I set myself more earnestly than ever to please my Heavenly Spouse, the King of Kings,
Who had deigned to honour me by a divine alliance.
Having seen the letter announcing the marriage, I amused myself by composing the following invitation, which I read to the novices in order to bring home to them what had 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, Sovereign Ruler of the Universe, and the Glorious Virgin Mary, Queen of the Heavenly Court, announce to you the Spiritual Espousals of their August Son, Jesus, King of Kings and Lord of Lords, with little Thérèse 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, 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 8, 1890—the Heavenly Court was alone admitted — but
Designed & painted by St Therese
you are requested to be present at the Wedding Feast which will take place to-morrow, the day of Eternity, when Jesus, the Son of God, will come in the clouds of Heaven, in the splendour 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."
Her father's death
On July 29, 1894, God called my saintly and much-tried Father to Himself. For the last two years of his life he was completely paralysed; 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 good-bye, he raised his eyes, and pointing upwards said in a voice full of tears: "In Heaven!"
St Therese aged 15 and her father
Now that he was with God, 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. Céline tried therefore to fly to the Carmel; but the obstacles
seemed insurmountable. One day, when matters were going from bad to worse, I said 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 a sign. Thou knowest how much opposed is Sister N. to Céline's entering; if she withdraw her opposition, I shall regard it as 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 Céline's entrance, which 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.
St Therese: Chapter IX
- The lift leading up to Heaven
- First invitations to eternal joys
- The dark night
- The table of bitternerss
- How this terrestrial angel understood fraternal charity
- A great victory
- A military deserter
I will be thy ever-present guide; I will lift thee up in triumph to the heights of Heaven. Is LVIII.
Excerpts
The lift leading up to Heaven
You know it has ever been my desire to become a Saint, but I have always felt, in comparing myself with the Saints, that I am as far removed from them as the grain of sand, which the passer-by tramples underfoot, is remote from the mountain whose summit is lost in the clouds. Instead of being discouraged, I concluded that God would not inspire desires which could not be realised, and that I may aspire to sanctity in spite of my littleness. For me to become great is impossible. I must bear with myself and my many imperfections; but I will seek out a means of getting to Heaven by a little way—very short and very straight, a little way that is wholly new.
We live in an age of inventions; nowadays the rich need not trouble to climb the stairs, they have lifts instead. Well, I mean to try and find a lift by which I may be raised unto God, for I am too tiny to climb the steep stairway of perfection. I have sought to find in Holy Scripture some suggestion as to what this lift might be which I so much desired, and I read these words uttered by the Eternal Wisdom Itself: "Whosoever is a little one, let him come to Me." Then I drew near to God, feeling sure that I had discovered what I sought; but wishing to know further what He would do to the little one, I continued my search and this is what I found: "You shall be carried at the breasts and upon the knees; as one whom the mother caresseth, so will I comfort you." Never have I been consoled by words more tender and sweet.
What joy can be greater than to suffer for Thy Love?
Each time that my enemy would provoke me to combat, I behave as a gallant soldier. I know that a duel is an act of cowardice, and so, without once looking him in the face, I turn my back on the foe, then I hasten to my Saviour, and vow that I am ready to shed my blood in witness of my belief in Heaven. I tell him, if only He will deign to open it to poor unbelievers, I am content to sacrifice all pleasure in the thought of it as long as I live. And in spite of this trial, which robs me of all comfort, I still can say: "Thou hast given me, O Lord, delight in all Thou dost." For what joy can be greater than to suffer for Thy Love? The more the suffering is and the less it appears before men, the more is it to Thy Honour and Glory. Even if—but I know it to be impossible—Thou shouldst not deign to heed my sufferings, I should still be happy to bear them, in the hope that by my tears I might perhaps prevent or atone for one sin against Faith.
Chapter X
Path of spiritual childhood
Peace: Simplicity
A new light on charity
The little paintbrush: how it works within souls
A prayer granted
Crumbs that fall from the children's table
The good Samaritan
Ten minutes more precious than a thousand years of earthly joys
If you return and be quiet, you shall be saved: in silence and in hope shall your strength be...Behold, I have given thee to be the light of the Gentiles, that thou mayst be my salvation even to the farthest part of the earth.
The little brush
Dear Mother, I am the little brush that Jesus has chosen to paint His likeness in the souls you have confided to my care. Now an artist has several brushes—two at the least: the first, which is more useful, gives the ground tints and rapidly covers the whole canvas; the other, and smaller one, puts in the lesser touches. Mother, you represent the big brush which our Lord holds lovingly in His Hand when He wishes to do some great work in the souls of your children; and I am the little one He deigns to use afterwards, to fill in the minor details.
Prayer
Apart from the Divine Office, which in spite of my unworthiness is a daily joy, I have not the courage to look through books for beautiful prayers. I only get a headache because of their number, and besides, one is more lovely than another. Unable therefore to say them all, and lost in choice, I do as children who have not learnt to read—I simply tell Our Lord all that I want, and He always understands.
With me prayer is an uplifting of the heart; a glance towards heaven; a cry of gratitude and love, uttered equally in sorrow and in joy. In a word, it is something noble, supernatural, which expands my soul and unites it to God. Sometimes when I am in such a state of spiritual dryness that not a single good thought occurs to me, I say very slowly the "Our Father" or the "Hail Mary," and these prayers suffice to take me out of myself, and wonderfully refresh me.
Chapter XI
Love
- Two priest brothers
- What she understands by these words from the Canticle of Canticles: 'Draw me...'
- Her confidence in God
- A visit from Heaven
- She finds peace in love
- Sublime childhood
- A call to all 'little souls'
Excerpts
Two priest brothers
For years I had cherished a longing which seemed impossible of realisation—to have a brother a Priest. I often used to think that if my little brothers had not gone to Heaven, I should have had the happiness of seeing them at the Altar. I greatly regretted being deprived of this joy. Yet God went beyond my dream; I only asked for one brother who would remember me each day at the Holy Altar, and He has
united me in the bonds of spiritual friendship with two of His apostles. I should like to tell you, dear Mother, how Our Divine Master fulfilled my desire.
In 1895 our holy Mother, St. Teresa, sent my first brother as a gift for my feast. It was washing day, and I was busy at my work, when Mother Agnes of Jesus, then Prioress, called me aside and read me a letter from a young Seminarist, in which he said he had been inspired by St. Teresa to ask for a sister who would devote herself specially to his salvation, and to the salvation of his future flock. He promised always to remember this spiritualsister when saying Mass, and the choice fell upon me. Dear Mother, I cannot tell you how happy this made me. Such unlooked-for fulfillment of my desire awoke in my heart the joy of a child; it carried me back to those early days, when pleasures were so keen, that my heart seemed too small to contain them. Years had passed since I had tasted a like happiness, so fresh, so unfamiliar, as if forgotten chords had been stirred within me.
Fully aware of my obligations, I set to work, and strove to redouble myfervour. Now and again I wrote to my new brother. Undoubtedly, it is byprayer and sacrifice that we can help our missionaries, but sometimes, whenit pleases Our Lord to unite two souls for His Glory, He permits them to communicate their thoughts, and thus inspire each other to love God more. Of course an express command from those in authority is needed for this, otherwise, it seems to me, that such a correspondence would do more harm than good, if not to the missionary, at least to the Carmelite, whose manner of life tends to continual introversion. This exchange of letters, though rare, would occupy her mind uselessly; instead of uniting her to God, she would perhaps fancy she was doing wonders, when in reality, under cover of zeal,she was doing nothing but producing needless distraction.—And here am I,launched, not upon a distraction, but upon a dissertation equally superfluous.I shall never be able to correct myself of these lengthy digressions which must be so wearisome to you, dear Mother. Forgive me, should I offend again.
Last year, at the end of May, it was your turn to give me my second brother, and when I represented that, having given all my merits to one future apostle, I feared they could not be given to another, you told me that obedience would double their value. In the depths of my heart I thought the same thing, and, since the zeal of a Carmelite ought to embrace the whole world, I hope, with God's help, to be of use to even more than two missionaries.
'Draw me...'
...my thoughts on this passage of the Sacred Canticles: "Draw me—we will run!" Our Lord has said: "No man can come to Me except the Father Who hath sent Me, draw him," and later He tells us that whosoever seeks shall find, whosoever asks shall receive, that unto him that knocks it shall be opened, and He adds that whatever we ask the Father in His Name shall be given us.
It was no doubt for this reason that, long before the birth of Our Lord, the Holy Spirit dictated these prophetic words: "Draw me—we will run!" By asking to be drawn, we desire an intimate union with the object of our love. If iron and fire were endowed with reason, and the iron could say: "Draw me!" would not that prove its desire to be identified with the fire to the point of sharing its substance? Well, this is precisely my prayer. I asked Jesus to draw me into the Fire of His love, and to unite me so closely to Himself that He may live and act in me. I feel that the more the fire of love consumes my heart, so much the more shall I say: "Draw me!" and the more also will souls who draw near me run swiftly in the sweet odour of the Beloved.
Yes, they will run—we shall all run together, for souls that are on fire can never be at rest.
Unless you become as little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven, for the gate is narrow
And a path and a way shall be there, and it shall be called the holy way: the simple in heart will follow it and will not go astray. (Is XXXV)
Chapter XII
Suffering
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| Door to the infirmary where Therese died. |
The Mission of Therese
One of the Mothers, having come to visit her, did her a trifling service. "How happy I should be," thought the Mother, "if this Angel would only say: 'I will repay you in Heaven!' At that instant Soeur Thérèse, turning to her, said: "Mother, I will repay you in Heaven!"But more surprising than all, was her consciousness of the mission for which Our Lord had destined her. The veil which hides the future seemed lifted, and more than once she revealed to us its secrets, in prophecies which have already been realised. "I have never given the Good God aught but love; it is with Love He will repay. AFTER MY DEATH I WILL LET FALL A SHOWER OF ROSES."
At another time she interrupted a Sister, who was speaking to her of the happiness of Heaven, by the sublime words: "It is not that which attracts me."
"And what attracts you?" asked the other.
"Oh! it is Love! To love, to be beloved, and to return to earth to win love for our Love!"
One evening, she welcomed Mother Agnes of Jesus with an extraordinary expression of joy: "Mother!" she said, "some notes from a concert far away have just reached my ears, and have made me think that soon I shall be listening to the wondrous melodies of Paradise. The thought, however, gave me but a moment's joy—one hope alone makes my heart beat fast: the Love that I shall receive and the Love I shall be able to give!
"I feel that my mission is soon to begin—my mission to make others love
God as I love Him . . . to each souls my little way. I WILL SPEND MY HEAVEN IN DOING GOOD UPON EARTH. Nor is this impossible, since from the very heart of the Beatific Vision, the Angels keep watch over us. No, there can be no rest for me until the end of the world. But when the Angel shall have said: 'Time is no more!' then I shall rest, then I shall be able to rejoice, because the number of the elect will be complete."
"And what is this little way that you would teach to souls?"
how I have won Him, and that is why I shall be made so welcome."
The picture faithfully shows the facial expression and posture of St Therese immediately after her death, 30 September 1897. It is based on a picture by Céline. The words in the picture are: 'In the evening of this life, you will be judged on love.'
