Marie de Nazareth
À Jésus Par Marie
[Therese of Lisieux was only four years and eight months old when her mother died. From then on, Therese became overly shy and sensitive. She chose her sister Pauline as a second mother.
Pauline's entrance in the Carmel on October 2, 1882, was a new trial for the child, who began to suffer from headaches.
One evening her uncle shared some memories about her mother, and that evening Therese was seized with an extreme headache. Her illness grew worse.
A time came when Therese could no longer even recognized her family ...]
One day Papa came into my room in the deepest distress, and I watched him go up to Marie and give her some money, bidding her write to Paris, and have a novena of Masses said at Our Lady of Victories Shrine, to obtain the cure of his poor little Queen. How touching were his faith and love! How much I longed to get up and tell him I was cured! Alas! my wishes could not work a miracle, and it needed one to restore me to health. Yes, it needed a great miracle, and this was wrought by Our Lady of Victories herself.
One Sunday, during the novena [1], Marie went into the garden, leaving me with Léonie, who was reading by the window. After a short time I began to call: "Marie! Marie!" very softly. Léonie, accustomed to hear me fret like this, took no notice, so I called louder, until Marie came back to me. I saw her come into the room quite well, but, for the first time, I failed to recognize her.
… I looked all round and glanced anxiously into the garden, still calling: "Marie! Marie!" Her anguish was perhaps greater than mine, and that was unutterable. At last, after many fruitless efforts to make me recognize her, she whispered a few words to Léonie, and went away pale and trembling. Léonie presently carried me to the window. There I saw the garden, and Marie walking up and down, but still I did not recognize her; she came forward, smiling, and held out her arms to me calling tenderly: "Thérèse, dear little Thérèse!" This last effort failing, she came in again and knelt in tears at the foot of my bed; turning towards the statue of Our Lady, she entreated her with the fervor of a mother who begs the life of her child and will not be refused. Léonie and Céline joined her, and that cry of faith forced the gates of Heaven. I too, 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 recognized 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 favor—a smile from the Blessed Virgin!
[1] On Pentecost Sunday, 1883
Excerpt from Story of a Soul, Saint Therese of Lisieux, 1898
-
-
L'équipe de MDN.