The Story of a Soul (L'Histoire d'une Âme): The Autobiography of St. Thérèse of Lisieux: With Additional Writings and Sayings of St. ThérèseThérèse, de Lisieux, Saint
Religion
The Story of a Soul (L'Histoire d'une Âme): The Autobiography of St. Thérèse of Lisieux: With Additional Writings and Sayings of St. Thérèse
Thérèse, de Lisieux, Saint
Christian saints -- France -- Lisieux -- Biography; Lisieux (France) -- Biography; Thérèse, de Lisieux, Saint, 1873-1897
Suddenly she raised herself, as though called by a mysterious
voice; and opening her eyes, which shone with unutterable
happiness and peace, fixed her gaze a little above the statue of
Our Lady. Thus she remained for about the space of a _Credo,_ when
her blessed soul, now become the prey of the "Divine Eagle," was
borne away to the heights of Heaven.
. . . . . . .
A few days before her death, this little Saint had said: "The
death of Love which I so much desire is that of Jesus upon the
Cross." Her prayer was fully granted. Darkness enveloped her, and
her soul was steeped in anguish. And yet, may we not apply to her
also that sublime prophecy of St. John of the Cross, referring to
souls consumed by the fire of Divine Love: "They die Victims of
the onslaughts of Love, in raptured ecstasies--like the swan,
whose song grows sweeter as death draws nigh. Wherefore the
Psalmist declared: 'Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death
of His Saints.'[16] For then it is that the rivers of love burst
forth from the soul and are whelmed in the Ocean of Divine Love."
No sooner had her spotless soul taken its flight than the joy of
that last rapture imprinted itself on her brow, and a radiant
smile illumined her face. We placed a palm-branch in her hand; and
the lilies and roses that adorned her in death were figures of her
white robe of baptism made red by her Martyrdom of Love.
On the Saturday and Sunday a large crowd passed before the grating
of the nuns' chapel, to gaze on the mortal remains of the "Little
Flower of Jesus." Hundreds of medals and rosaries were brought to
touch the "Little Queen" as she lay in the triumphant beauty of
her last sleep.
. . . . . . .
On October 4, the day of the funeral, there gathered in the Chapel
of the Carmel a goodly company of Priests. The honour was surely
due to one who had prayed so earnestly for those called to that
sacred office. After a last solemn blessing, this grain of
priceless wheat was cast into the furrow by the hands of Holy
Mother Church.
Who shall tell how many ripened ears have sprung forth since, how
many the sheaves that are yet to come? "Amen, amen, I say to you,
unless the grain of wheat, falling into the ground, die, itself
remaineth alone. But if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit."[17]
Once more the word of the Divine Reaper has been magnificently
fulfilled.
THE PRIORESS OF THE CARMEL.
_____________________________
[1] Dom Gueranger.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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