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 — John Shaqi
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
Choking back my tears, I ran down to the dining-room, and, though
my heart beat fast, I picked up my shoes, and gaily pulled out all
the things, looking as happy as a queen. Papa laughed, and did not
show any trace of displeasure, and Celine thought she must be
dreaming. But happily it was a reality; little Therese had
regained, once for all, the strength of mind which she had lost at
the age of four and a half.
On this night of grace, the third period of my life began--the
most beautiful of all, the one most filled with heavenly favours.
In an instant Our Lord, satisfied with my good will, accomplished
the work I had not been able to do during all these years. Like
the Apostle I could say: "Master, we have laboured all night, and
have taken nothing."[2]
More merciful to me even than to His beloved disciples, Our Lord
Himself took the net, cast it, and drew it out full of fishes. He
made me a fisher of men. Love and a spirit of self-forgetfulness
took possession of me, and from that time I was perfectly happy.
One Sunday, closing my book at the end of Mass, a picture of Our
Lord on the Cross half slipped out, showing only one of His Divine
Hands, pierced and bleeding. I felt an indescribable thrill such
as I had never felt before. My heart was torn with grief to see
that Precious Blood falling to the ground, and no one caring to
treasure It as It fell, and I resolved to remain continually in
spirit at the foot of the Cross, that I might receive the Divine
Dew of Salvation and pour it forth upon souls. From that day the
cry of my dying Saviour--"I thirst!"--sounded incessantly in my
heart, and kindled therein a burning zeal hitherto unknown to me.
My one desire was to give my Beloved to drink; I felt myself
consumed with thirst for souls, and I longed at any cost to snatch
sinners from the everlasting flames of hell.
In order still further to enkindle my ardour, Our Divine Master
soon proved to me how pleasing to him was my desire. Just then I
heard much talk of a notorious criminal, Pranzini, who was
sentenced to death for several shocking murders, and, as he was
quite impenitent, everyone feared he would be eternally lost. How
I longed to avert this irreparable calamity! In order to do so I
employed all the spiritual means I could think of, and, knowing
that my own efforts were unavailing, I offered for his pardon the
infinite merits of Our Saviour and the treasures of Holy Church.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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