The Little Flower

My dear little Father,
Our little Sister Therese of the Child Jesus is really very sick and we are deeply disturbed. Dr. de Corniere has to come to see her this morning. She's up and around, but she's experiencing a general state of weakness. She herself now realizes that she's very ill. She feels sharp pains in her side and can eat hardly anything, Yesterday, she threw up her dinner, and, frequently, in her coughing spells, she vomits. We are really upset.

Mother Prioress takes good care of her, none could do better. Since Sister Therese is changing very much and won't be able to stay up, we would like to take a picture of her for Mother Prioress' feast day. Should her condition continue, by the end of the week, her appearance would be so bad, it would be impossible to dream of doing this; especially if Dr. Corniere prescribes vesicatories. With reference to these, in her weakened state, she'll have trouble recovering from them.

I fear I'm disturbing you, dear Father, but we are very much upset. If you could only see the progress her illness has made in one week, and even since I received the Veil. She's in a state of great exhaustion; she feels at times, as she tells us, agonies as though she were going to die; she feels that life is leaving her.

    Would Mamma please send us some little dishes for her? She'll be able to choose nice little things which will do our little angel some good. I believe she is going to fly away to heaven very soon. She said last night: "I will be content to die or to live, for I will only what God wills; everything is for His love." We are making a novena to Our Lady of Victories, and Mother Prioress is having Masses offered up there. Besides, during this novena, Mother is putting Lourdes water in everything Sister Therese takes. She told us last night: "Either the Blessed Virgin will cure me or take me off with her; this can't last a long time." We have great confidence in Our Lady of Victories.

excerpts from 'The Yellow Notebook' of Mother Agnes of Jesus, Therese's sister Pauline...

April 18, "When I pray for you, I don't say a 'Pater' or an 'Ave' for you, I say simply, lifting up my heart to God: 'O my God, grant my little Mother all kinds of good things; and if You can, love her even more.' "

May 1, "It's not 'death' that will come in search of me, it's God. Death isn't some phantom, some horrible spectre, as it is represented in pictures. It is said in the catechism that 'death is the separation of the soul from the body' and that is all it is."

June 11, "I'm not breaking my head over writing of my 'little' life; it's as though I were fishing with a line: I write whatever comes to the end of my pen."

July 3, I was confiding to her my thoughts of sorrow and discouragement after having committed a fault:
   "You don't act like me. When I commit a fault that makes me sad, I know very well that this sadness is a consequence of my infidelity, but do you believe I remain there? Oh! no, I'm not so foolish! I hasten to say to God: My God, I know I have merited this feeling of sadness, but let me offer it up to You just the same as a trial that You sent me through love. I'm sorry for my sin, but happy to have this suffering to offer to You."

July 17, Saturday, at 2:00 in the morning, she coughed up blood:
   "I feel that I'm about to enter into my rest. But I feel especially that my mission is about to begin, my mission of making God loved as I love Him, of giving my little way to souls. If God answers my desires, my heaven will be spent on earth until the end of the world. Yes, I want to spend my heaven in doing good on earth. This isn't impossible, since from the bosom of the beatific vision, the angels watch over us.

   "I can't make heaven a feast of rejoicing; I can't rest as long as there are souls to be saved. But when the angel will have said: 'Time is no more!' then I will make my rest; I'll be able to rejoice, because the number of the elect will be complete and because all will have entered into joy and repose. My heart beats with joy at this thought."

August 7, "Oh, how little God is loved on this earth, even by priests and religious! No, God isn't loved very much."

September 30, Thursday, the day of her holy death.
In the morning, I was with her during Mass. She didn't speak a word to me. She was exhausted, gasping for breath; her sufferings, I thought, were indescribable. One moment she joined her hands and looked at the statue of the Blessed Virgin.
   "Oh! I prayed fervently to her! But it's the agony, really without any mixture of consolation."

I spoke a few words of sympathy and affection and I added that she had edified me very much all through her illness:
   "And you, the consolations you've given me! Ah! they are very great!

All through the day, without a moments respite, she remained, we can say without exaggeration, in veritable torments. She appeared to be at the end of her strength and nevertheless, to our great surprise, she was able to move, to sit up in her bed.
   "You see the strength that I have today! No, I'm not going to die! I still have strength for months, perhaps years!"

"And if God willed it," asked Mother Prioress, "would you accept it?" She began to answer in her agony:
"It would really have to be. . ."

But checking herself immediately, she said with a tone of sublime resignation, falling back on her pillows:
"I really will it!"

I was able to gather these exclamations, but it is impossible to express the tone in which they were said:
   "I no longer believe in death for me . . . .I believe only in suffering . . . .Well, so much the better! . . ."

"O my God! . . ."
"I love God!"
"O good Blessed Virgin, come to my aid!"
"If this is the agony, what is death?! . . .
"Ah! my God! . . .Yes, He is very good, I find Him very good

.

Looking at the statue of the Blessed Virgin:
   "Oh! you know I'm suffocating!"

"God is going to aid you, poor little one, and it will soon be all over."
   "Yes, but when?"
   ". . .My God, have pity on Your poor little child! Have pity on her!

To Mother Prioress:
"O Mother, I assure you, the chalice is filled to the brim! . . ."
"But God is not going to abandon me, I'm sure . . . "
"He has never abandoned me."
"Yes, my God, everything that You will, but have pity on me!"
"Little sisters! little sisters! pray for me!"
"My God! my God! You are so good!"
"Oh, yes, You are good! I know it . . . ."

After vespers, Mother Prioress placed a picture of Our Lady of Mount Carmel on her knees. She looked at it for a moment and said, when Mother Prioress assured her she'd be soon caressing the Blessed Virgin and the Child Jesus:
   "O Mother, present me quickly to the Blessed Virgin; I'm a baby who can't stand anymore! . . .Prepare me for death."

Mother Prioress told her that since she had always understood humility, her preparation was already made, She reflected a moment and spoke these words humbly:
   "Yes, it seems to me I never sought anything but the truth; yes, I have understood humility of heart . . . .It seems to me I'm humble."

She repeated once more:
   "All I wrote about my desires for suffering, Oh! it's true just the same!"
   "And I am not sorry for delivering myself up to love."

With insistence:
   "Oh! no, I'm not sorry; on the contrary!"

A little later:
   "Never would I have believed it was possible to suffer so much!" never! never! I cannot explain this except by the ardent desires I have had to save souls."

    Towards five o'clock, I was alone by her side. Her face changed all of a sudden; I understood it was her last agony.

When the community entered the infirmary, she welcomed all the Sisters with a sweet smile. She was holding her Crucifix and looking at it constantly.

For more than two hours, a terrible rattle tore her chest. Her face was blue, her hands purplish, her feet were cold, and she shook in all her members. Perspiration stood out in enormous drops on her forehead and rolled down her cheeks. Her difficulties in breathing were always increasing, and in order to breathe she made little involuntary cries.

All during this time, so full of agony for us, we heard through the window -- it made me suffer very much--the twittering of robins, and other little birds, but this twittering was so strong, so close, and so prolonged! I prayed to God to make them keep silent; this concert pierced my heart, and I feared it would tire our poor little Therese.

At one moment, her mouth seemed to be so dry that Sister Genevieve, thinking to relieve her, placed on her lips a little piece of ice. She accepted it, giving her a smile which I'll never forget. It was like a last farewell.

At six o'clock, when the Angelus was ringing, she looked at the statue of the Blessed Virgin for a long time.

Finally, at a few minutes past seven, Mother Prioress dismissed the community, and she sighed:
"Mother! Isn't this the agony! . . . .Am I not going to die? . . ."
"Yes, my poor little one, it's the agony, but God perhaps wills to prolong it for several hours." She answered with courage:
"Well . . .All right! . . All right!"
"Oh! I would not want to suffer for a shorter time!"

And looking at her Crucifix:
"Oh! I love Him! . . .
"My God . . .I love you! . . ."

Suddenly, after having pronounced these words, she fell back, her head leaning to the right. Mother prioress had the infirmary bells rung very quickly to call back the community.

"Open all the doors, " she said at the same time. These words had something solemn about them, and made me think that in heaven God was saying them also to His angels.

The Sisters had time to kneel down around her bed, and they were witnesses to the ecstasy of the little, dying saint. Her face had regained the lily-white complexion it always had in full health; her eyes were fixed above, brilliant with peace and joy. She made certain beautiful movements with her head as though someone had divinely wounded her with an arrow of love, then had withdrawn the arrow to wound her again . . .

Sister Marie of the Eucharist approached with a candle to get a closer view of that sublime look. In the light of the candle, there didn't appear any movement in her eyelids. This ecstasy lasted almost the space of a Credo, and then she gave her last breath.

After her death, she had a heavenly smile. She was ravishingly beautiful. She was holding her Crucifix so tightly that we had to force it from her hands to prepare her for burial. Sister Marie of the Sacred heart and I performed this office, along with Sister Aimee of Jesus, and we noticed she didn't seem any more than twelve or thirteen years old.

Her limbs were supple right up to her burial, on Monday, October 4, 1897.

Sister Agnes of Jesus, Carmelite

"...for a Carmelite to think of a person whom she loves is to pray for her."