Dear Friends of Carmel,
Although Therese was cured at thirteen of her scruples, she was still left with her over-sensitiveness. Marie, before entering Carmel, called Therese her “baby”, and Celine, up to Christmas of 1886, also regarded her little sister as a baby. Didn’t she still want to put her slippers in front of the fireplace so they could be filled with little gifts?! Yes, at almost fourteen, Therese still wanted to do it.
When they arrived home after Midnight Mass, Therese was expected to open her gifts. However, Mr. Martin was tired, and he remarked to Celine when they came in, “Well, fortunately this will be the last year!” Immediately Celine noticed tears spring into Therese’s eyes. As they ascended the stairs to lay aside their hats, Celine advised her not to go down immediately. But in an instant, everything changed. Therese recovered herself, dried her tears, and went down full of joy, opening her gifts with cries of delight. Celine watched, amazed. A new unknown strength had come over her sister. Years later when writing of it, St. Therese recognized that grace had come from her Christmas Communion when she had received “the strong and powerful God.” “In an instant Jesus, content with my good will, accomplished the work I had not been able to do in ten years.” She had regained the strength of soul she had before her mother’s death, and entered a new phase of her life. Still a sensitive girl of fourteen, she would mature in the trials God had laid out for her.
A few days later on January 2nd 1887, Therese actually turned fourteen, and in that year, everyone was noticing her physical development as well. She was growing taller than her sisters.[1] At Trouville in June, with her long blonde braids, she was called “the tall English girl”. Her intellect also developed: “Freed from scruples and over-sensitiveness, my mind developed. I had always loved the great and the beautiful, but in that period of my life, I was filled with an ardent desire to learn.” At this time too, many memorable grace-growing experiences occurred: the reading of Abbe Arminjon’s book which plunged her soul into joys not of this world; the closer relationship with Celine; their lives together at this time and the spiritual conversations in the evenings in which they received “graces like those granted to great saints.”
Her confessor allowed her to receive Communion four times a week, and five if a feast day occurred. These graces bore fruits. The practice of virtue became sweet and easy. Leonie gave testimony: “The constancy of happy disposition was so plain and seemed so natural that one would have thought the continual self-conquest cost her nothing at all.” Although grace was at work, years later St. Therese said: “I have had to fight every day of my life,” (referring to her battle against her nature). Fr. Pichon, who visited the family home at this time, gave a testimony which supports this: “She did everything her sisters asked with the greatest willingness, submitted to everything, even if it were only moods; she herself had no moods, never expressed a wish… she was by no means a placid and dull person; rather she was extremely lively and probably would have had her moods and special desires, if she had allowed herself to have them… I always admired the ease and charming grace with which she was able to overcome herself in order to adjust herself to everyone and everything in her home.”
One Sunday in July a picture of Jesus Crucified slipped from her missal in such a way that it inspired Therese with the thought that no one was collecting the Precious Blood as it fell from the Cross. She decided that henceforth she would remain in spirit at the foot of the Cross. Her vocation to Carmel was becoming ever clearer and Jesus shared with her His thirst for souls. It was at this point that she was learning and reading about Pranzini, an infamous criminal who was condemned to death on July 13th. She adopted him as her first child and prayed and sacrificed herself for him. Finally, she even asked Celine to have Masses offered for him. Eventually Celine was let in on the secret and joined her in prayer. On August 31st, there was a sign of the conversion until then refused: at the foot of the guillotine, in his last moments, Pranzini called for the crucifix and kissed it twice before dying. Pranzini kissed those wounds of Jesus Crucified Whose Blood Therese wanted to gather for the whole world. This unique grace again increased her desire to enter Carmel and there to save souls with Jesus.
These graces had already begun to move her to efforts to achieve her goal. On May 29th, 1887, on the evening of Pentecost after Vespers, she spoke to her father in the garden, telling him she wanted to enter Carmel at fifteen. It was a touching moment for father and daughter. He, already weakened by his first stroke, was ready to sacrifice his “little Queen”. Therese mingled her tears with those of this saintly and beloved father, whose sensitivity she had inherited. It was not until October 8th of that year that she dared to ask her legal guardian, her Uncle Isidore, for the same permission. He kindly but uncompromisingly refused her tears with many prudent reasonings. A letter left that day to Mother Agnes, to whom Therese poured out her heart. Tears were added to this in the parlor of October 21st. Mother Agnes was convinced and wrote her uncle. Coming from a goddaughter he had always respected, Uncle Isidore changed his mind and on the 22nd gave Therese the permission she so desired. Therese’s joy did not last long. The very next day (23rd) Carmel reported that their Ecclesiastical Superior, M. Delatroette, would not hear of Therese entering before she was twenty-one. On the 24th, Therese set out to see him, accompanied by Mr. Martin and Celine. Having suffered recently from an affair of this kind, which Lisieux was still talking about, this churchman was immoveable. “Of course,” he said, “the final decision is with the Bishop.” Mr. Martin promised
[1] Therese was 1.62m, the tallest, and Pauline (Mother Agnes) was 1.54m, the shortest.
the tearful Therese he would take her to the Bishop. All at Carmel, including their chaplain, decided to storm heaven for Therese’s entry.
On the 31st Therese, with her hair up in order to look older, accompanied only by her father, set out for the Bishop’s Palace at Bayeux. Her whole account of this visit is priceless.[1] It was raining in torrents when they arrived at Bayeux, so Mr. Martin decided they should go into the Cathedral to get out of the rain. The Bishop and all his priests were there attending an important funeral. To Therese’s embarrassment, Mr. Martin, in his simplicity, led Therese up to a front pew. In a white dress and hat, she says she “executed this with great grace, and thus procured this distraction for all the good inhabitants of Bayeux, whom I would have preferred never to have known.”
When they finally arrived at the Bishop’s residence, the Vicar General, M. Reverony, kindly received them, but Therese felt that the reason for their visit took him by surprise. After asking her a few questions, he said he would take them to the Bishop. Seeing tears in her eyes he said: “Ah! I see diamonds! You must not show them to the Bishop!” Passing through many large rooms on the way made Therese feel like an ant. Finally settling her in the room with His Excellency and her father, M. Reverony made Therese take the last of the huge armchairs, which she said could have comfortably seated four of her size, while he mortified her by sitting on a straight-back chair. Therese had hoped her father would explain to the Bishop the reason for their visit, but he left this to Therese. She said: “I did so as eloquently as possible, and His Excellency, accustomed to eloquence, did not appear to be touched by my reasons…” His Excellency asked her a few questions and tried to insist it would please her father if she stayed with him a few more years, but he was surprised and edified by Mr. Martin’s readiness to give his daughter to God.
At this point the Bishop said he could not possibly decide without an interview with the Superior of Carmel (M. Delatroette). Therese said: “Without taking into account Fr. Reverony’s advice, I did more than show my diamonds to the Bishop: I gave him some!” Being very touched, the Bishop put “his arm around my neck and placed my head on his shoulder and caressed me as no one, it appears, was ever caressed by him before.” “He told me all was not lost and he was happy I was making the trip to Rome to strengthen my vocation… I had nothing more to say, having exhausted all the resources of my eloquence.” The Bishop was much amused when her father told him she had put up her hair in order to look older. Once out in the street, she says her tears began to flow, not so much because of her sorrow, but because of her little father who had made a useless trip. “It seemed to me my future was ruined forever.” In this one recognizes a young girl of fourteen. “My soul was plunged into bitterness, but into peace too, for I was seeking God’s will.” And in this, one sees the grace of God forming a future saint.
On November 1st there was another sad parlor at Carmel. Therese had only one hope left: she would ask the Pope. This was not a vain hope, for her father had decided to take his two youngest daughters to Italy for the Jubilee Celebration of Leo XIII’s 50th Anniversary of Priesthood. Under the leadership of Bishop Germain of Coutances, one hundred and ninety-seven French pilgrims, seventy-five of whom were priests, would be visiting holy places in Italy throughout most of November. The Martins left for Paris on the 4th to have a couple of days to see it before meeting with the other pilgrims on the 7th. (We will not follow St. Therese on this pilgrimage because our purpose is only to see its effects on her.[2])
The Papal audience with these French Pilgrims was scheduled for Sunday, November 20th, 1887. Bishop Hugonin had not sent his answer, but there had been correspondence to and from Lisieux. Mother Agnes was in favor of Therese speaking to the Pope. The pilgrims assisted at the Holy Father’s Mass which was followed by a Mass of Thanksgiving. After this the Pope, seated on a large armchair in the audience room, received each person. Each one knelt, kissed the Holy Father’s slipper, then his hand, received his blessing, and rose when the guard tapped his shoulder. Bayeux, it seems, was the last diocese, and it was presented by M. Reverony in the absence of Bishop Hugonin. As it was taking a long time, M. Reverony announced on the Pope’s behalf that it was forbidden to speak. At this, Therese’s courage failed and she turned to Celine who was behind her. Celine, the intrepid, whispered: “Speak!” “A moment later I was at the Holy Father’s feet. I kissed his slipper and he presented his hand, but instead of kissing it I joined my own and lifted tear-filled eyes to his face. I cried out: ‘Most Holy Father, I have a great favor to ask of you!’”
At this point the Holy Father gave her a piercing look. “Holy Father, in honor of your Jubilee, permit me to enter Carmel at the age of fifteen!” The Pope turned to M. Reverony who was looking sternly at Therese. “I don’t understand very well.” “Most Holy Father,” said M. Reverony, “this is a child who wants to enter Carmel at the age of fifteen, but the Superiors are considering the matter at the moment.” “Well, my child,” the Holy Father replied, looking at her kindly, “do what the Superiors tell you!” Resting her hands on his knees, she made a last plea: “Oh! Holy Father, if you say yes, everybody will agree!” He gazed at her steadily, speaking these words and stressing each syllable: “Go… go… you will enter if God wills it!” She wanted to speak again; the two guards touched her, but she didn’t move. M. Reverony helped them to lift her. As they did the Holy Father put his hand on her lips, then raised it to bless her. “Then my eyes filled with tears and Father Reverony was able to contemplate at least as many diamonds as he had seen at Bayeux. The two guards literally carried me to the door…” St. Therese was able, as is seen here, to look back at this incident several years later with a touch of humor.
Although Therese now looked upon this trip as a failure, there were in fact many positive aspects to it which she would later recognize. For the first and last time she had seen the world beyond Normandy… the splendors of nature: the Swiss and Italian mountains, the Riviera, the Cote-d’Azur. She had learnt much in all the French and Italian cities that the pilgrimage had visited. She made many discoveries and came in contact with other social classes. “What an interesting study the world makes when one is about to leave it!” Also… “I understood that true greatness is to be found in the soul and not in the name.” She got to know herself better as well- she had thought herself shy, but she realized how much she had changed in the last year when she found herself very much at ease with other people. She realized, too, that the prospect of marriage could have opened before her. “My heart could easily have let itself be caught by affection.” However, her vocation had become stronger through all these experiences. She had also come to understand why Carmelites pray for priests. Always having thought that priests’ souls were “as pure as crystal,” she did not see the need. On the pilgrimage, in many circumstances, she had seen that priests, both the French ones she was with and the Italian ones at the shrines and churches, were only human, and therefore at times “weak and feeble men.” She felt it was not too far to have gone to learn this valuable lesson.
Having returned to Lisieux on December 2nd, she went to the Post Office every morning after Mass looking for the Bishop’s reply. Meanwhile, the Carmelites continued to appeal to M. Delatroette until he finally told them not to speak of this affair again until Therese was twenty-one. There were tears at Midnight Mass at Christmas because Therese had so desired to enter Carmel one year after her Christmas grace of the previous year. Her “humanity” is shown in this, and even more in the fact that, in spite of her bitter disappointment, she was pleased to be wearing, for the first time, a pretty navy-blue cap decorated with a white dove! Finally on January 1st, the eve of her fifteenth birthday, a letter from Mother Marie de Gonzague informed her that the Bishop had written on the 28th of December allowing her to decide the matter of Therese’s entry herself. Mother Agnes had persuaded her to delay Therese’s entry until after Easter because of the Lenten fast. While Therese was disappointed by this extra three-month wait, Our Lord soon made her see how she could use this time to prepare herself for her new life by interior mortification. She took occasions to break her own will, to bite back a retort, to render little services without drawing attention to them, and other such things. Leonie, who had returned from the Visitation at this time, testified to the kindness and charity Therese showed her during this period of readjustment. Finally, at the end of March, Therese learned her entry date would be April 9th, feast of the Annunciation.
[1] Story of a Soul, translated from the original manuscripts by John Clarke, OCD, Chapter 5
[2] For readers who are interested, the account in full is given by St. Therese in her Autobiography – footnoted above – Chapter 6
