PAX CHRISTI!
JANUARY / FEBRUARY 2025
Dear Friends of Carmel,
This year we are celebrating the First Centenary of the Canonization of St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus. Perhaps you are wondering: “Why are you celebrating it? What is so special about that?” There are at least two reasons why celebrating a canonization is fitting.
First of all, it is an occasion to thank God. One hundred years ago, by this canonization, God brought to the attention of the Church and the world a remarkable Saint who would help countless souls. There are some great saints who have specially enriched the Church and whose influence will endure for all time. Saints like St. Augustine, St. Francis of Assisi, St. Dominic, St. Thomas Aquinas, our Holy Mother St. Teresa, and several others. One hundred years ago, St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus was added to this number, and she continues to have a great impact on souls to this day. She is a gift of God for us! Let us therefore celebrate in thanksgiving.
The second reason is that it brings our attention to her once again. In revisiting her life, we reap graces of light and strength for our own journey. We hope to look at nature and grace in her, and follow her transformation along her path to sanctity. We want to see especially her crosses and the grace she had to carry them—because crosses often seem like obstacles to us, yet they are God’s instruments in forging saints. We hope to look briefly at these things, otherwise it would become a book. This may encourage you to read a book yourself!
Marie Françoise-Thérèse Martin, born January 2nd, 1873, was—as she herself said years later—“far from being a perfect little girl.” Yes, although she was a precocious child with blonde hair and blue eyes, who was “very advanced for her age” and “amazingly clever,” she had several traits which may console parents raising children. She was self-willed and proud. Her mother said: “She has an almost unconquerable stubborn streak in her. When she says no, nothing can make her give in…” She had “frightful tantrums when she can’t have her own way. She rolls on the floor in despair believing all is lost.” She was very emotional, often cried, shrieked sometimes, and kept it up for at least an hour. “She is a child who is very easily upset.” There were tears for all occasions—and then tears for having cried.
Less troubling, perhaps, is the fact that she was full of mischief, loved to play tricks on her sisters, and mimicked those around her. These traits, which she later perfected and used only with charity, would in time delight her sisters during recreation in Carmel.
On the good side, she laughed a lot and sang with all her heart, delighting her family. She loved her father and mother deeply and expressed her love in a thousand ways. Later, she would do this for Jesus. Grace made her upright. She was quick to admit the little accidents of childhood and to ask forgiveness. She loved to give alms to the poor. She was observant and, without appearing to, took in everything. She was reflective, and at four years old explained to Céline (who was three and a half years older) why God is all-powerful. Grace also gave her a love for truth—she would not tell a lie for anything.
While still quite young she begged to go to Mass, but was told she could not because she was not good in church. When she did go at four years of age, during interminable sermons, she would yawn. One Sunday she commented: “It is more beautiful than usual, but it bores me just the same.” Then she sighed deeply. By this time, “to please Jesus” was her concern. “Is He pleased with me?” It was enough for someone to tell her a thing was not good for her to avoid doing it again. Pleasing Jesus became a lifelong virtue for Thérèse and would lead her to the heights of sanctity. Her curiosity turned her thoughts to heaven. Would she go there?
At four and a half, she played nuns and made herself the superior. She wondered how a person could pray without saying anything, but concluded: “After all, Pauline, it’s not worth troubling about it now, don’t you see? When I am big like you and Marie, before I enter the convent, someone will tell me how to do it.”
At this tender age, she received some amazing graces. Her strength of will enabled her to overcome violent interior struggles which passed unnoticed, as she already had firm control of her actions. By then, she had also acquired the good habit of never complaining—even when someone took what was hers or when she was unjustly accused. She preferred to remain silent and not to make excuses.
Her life changed drastically on August 28th, 1877, the day her mother died. At four and a half, she received her first cross. A cloud of sadness seemed to descend upon her, and it seemed to her that the sunny days of childhood were over. Once outgoing, she became shy, quiet, and oversensitive. The tendency to cry returned. Years later, Mother Agnes testified that oversensitivity was the only fault she saw in Thérèse before her First Holy Communion. Indeed, over the next ten years, her tears were frequent. She was only happy when alone or within the family circle. There she regained her cheerfulness. These were painful years—years of great changes.
The first change after her mother’s death was their move to Lisieux. Mr. Martin, sacrificing his roots in Alençon for the sake of his five daughters, accepted his sister-in-law’s invitation to move near her family. His brother-in-law found them a beautiful house with a spacious yard. So, on November 15th, after a last visit to the cemetery, they left Alençon. It would be six years before Thérèse returned.
It was good for them to be near the Guérins, who had two daughters, ages ten and seven. Except for these dear ones, the Martin family grew closer together, not socializing much. Marie (17) took charge of the household and gave Thérèse writing lessons. Pauline (16), whom Thérèse had chosen as her “little Mama,” cared for her and taught her reading and catechism. Léonie (14) became a boarder at the Benedictines, and Céline (8) soon followed as a day pupil. Thérèse, always eager to hear about God, loved catechism and Holy Scripture, but cried during grammar and spelling. On the whole, the three years from her fifth to eighth year were probably her happiest and least trying in Lisieux. In this, we see God’s tenderness after the loss of her mother. He gave her much love and affection through her family.
At five, during her first Lent in Lisieux, she heard her first sermon that pleased her—it was on the Passion of Jesus. At this age, too, she loved to watch her father praying in church and at home in the evening, “to learn how the saints prayed.” She would go for walks with him each afternoon in fine weather, and at times he would take her fishing. She would sit among the flowers and think of heaven where her mother was.¹
Describing herself at this time, St. Thérèse later wrote: “I loved God very much and offered my heart to Him very often, making use of a little formula Mother had taught me.” She loved to run and give alms to the poor she and her father met while walking. She would welcome them when they came to the house and run to Marie to describe their needs with compassion.
Her battle against nature is shown in incidents with Victoire² when she was six. Thérèse had her own little May altar where she lit two quickly-burning tapers for her devotions with Victoire. One evening, she asked Victoire to begin the prayer while she lit the tapers, but Victoire only laughed. Thérèse begged her to start, but she remained silent. At last, Thérèse shouted at her, stamped her foot, and cried out in anger. Then, seeing Victoire’s candle stubs, she burst into tears of repentance. She believed she had perfect contrition.
It was around this time that Pauline prepared her for First Confession. Pauline found it hard to identify sins for her to confess. This is astonishing, considering the incident with Victoire—though it likely occurred afterward, especially since Thérèse describes her contrition.
Thérèse said of her First Confession: “Coming out of the confessional, I was so happy and lighthearted that I never felt so much joy in my soul.” After that, she went to confession on all the great feasts—and it was a feast for her each time.
Later, another incident occurred with Victoire. Thérèse wanted an inkstand from the kitchen shelf, but being too small, she asked Victoire politely to help. Victoire refused. Thérèse got a chair herself but wanted to show displeasure. She thought of what insult had hurt her most: being called “a little brat.” So she turned and said: “Victoire, you are a brat!”—then made her escape. Victoire told Marie, who made Thérèse ask pardon. Thérèse admitted she did so without true contrition. “I thought that if Victoire didn’t want to stretch her big arm to do me a little service, she merited the title ‘brat.’”
We see from this human and amusing story that although Thérèse “refused Jesus no sacrifices from the time [she] was three years old,” there were still off-guard moments when she failed. Her great sanctity had its beginnings in our humanity.³
Sources:
¹ Material and some phrases in this issue were taken from The Story of a Life by Guy Gaucher, Carmelite and Bishop, Harper & Row Publishers, San Francisco, 1987.
² Victoire Pasquier was a servant of the Martins at Lisieux for seven years. In this incident, she stayed with Thérèse while the family was at Church for May devotions.
³ This incident was taken from Story of a Soul – The Autobiography of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, ICS Publications.
NEWS
The building project progressed quickly through the framing stage. The roof is now on, many windows are in, and mechanical and electrical systems are being installed. The inside is finally beginning to dry out now that the rain has stopped. We are pleased with the progress and are praying for dry weather to continue until all windows and doors are in place!
The weather has been a challenge for the workers. Apart from regular flooding, the 35 m.p.h. winds a few weeks ago tore off some of the tar paper on the roof and much of the home wrap on the wooden sides. We’ve witnessed daring feats by workers in freezing weather and framers balancing on high beams in the rain. We daily pray to the angels for their protection.
We thank our generous benefactors whose donations have helped us meet costs so far. The bar diagram shows our financial status at present. We still have a fair way to go, but we are confident that our Good Father, Saint Joseph, is taking care of this very necessary project. May God bless and reward you a hundredfold, in this life and the next.
Apart from the building project, we had a joyful Christmastide—interrupted for eight days (Dec. 30–Jan. 6) by our annual retreat, preached this year by Rev. Fr. Joseph Wood, who gave us new appreciation for the Psalms we pray so often in the Divine Office.
We are now engaged in our usual winter occupations: mending, repairs, and maintenance. Sisters are working on items for sale: leather missal covers, this year’s sauerkraut, and a new selection of holy cards in honor of St. Thérèse.
Planning is also underway for the next year’s garden. We are testing planting methods to use the hoop house most effectively. One lesson: tarps help with weeds and soil warmth, but unfortunately attract mice! They made a maze in the beets—but thankfully it was a bumper crop.
In the coop, all is well—despite coyote tracks around the duck house. Holes were filled with rocks, which seems to have worked. The chickens have a new regime: two of rooster Caesar’s sons (Pharao and Trumpet) are now part of the flock. We will see how they fare! The bees appear to have survived, thanks to better insulation. Deo Gratias!
We assure you of our grateful prayers for all your support in so many ways. May Our Lord and His Blessed Mother, Our Lady of Mount Carmel, guide, guard, and keep you in Their love this year.
Yours most gratefully in Jesus, Mary and Joseph,
The Carmelites