Thérèse of Lisieux

You know it has ever been my desire to become a saint, but I have always felt, in comparing myself with the saints, that I am as far removed from them as the grain of sand, which the passer-by tramples underfoot, is remote from the mountain whose summit is lost in the clouds.

Instead of being discouraged, I told myself: God would not make me wish for something impossible and so, in spite of my littleness, I can aim at being a saint. It is impossible for me to grow bigger, so I put up with myself as I am, with all my countless faults. But I will look for some means of going to heaven by a little way which is very short and very straight, a little way that is quite new.

I wanted to find an elevator which would raise me to Jesus, for I am too small to climb the rough stairway of perfection. I searched, then, in the Scriptures for some sign of this elevator, the object of my desires, and I read these words coming from the mouth of Eternal Wisdom: "Whoever is a LITTLE ONE, let him come to me." And so I succeeded. I felt I had found what I was looking for.

To remain little is to recognize one's nothingness, to expect everything from the good God, just as a little child expects everything from its father. It is not to be troubled about anything, not to try to make a fortune... To be little is also not to attribute to oneself the virtues one practices, as if one believed oneself capable of achieving something, but to recognize that the good God places this treasure of virtue in the hands of His little child to make use of it when there is need; but it is always God's treasure.

What I ask is Love. I know only one thing now—to love You, O Jesus!... Glorious deeds are forbidden me; I cannot preach the Gospel or shed my blood—but what does it matter? My brothers work in my place and I, a little child, I stay close to the royal throne, I love for those who fight.

I understood that LOVE COMPRISED ALL VOCATIONS, THAT LOVE WAS EVERYTHING, THAT IT EMBRACED ALL TIMES AND PLACES... IN A WORD, THAT IT IS ETERNAL! Then, in the excess of my delirious joy, I cried out: O Jesus, my Love... my vocation, at last I have found it... MY VOCATION IS LOVE! Yes, I have found my place in the Church... in the heart of the Church, my Mother, I shall be Love.

I have no other means of proving my love for you than that of strewing flowers, that is, not allowing one little sacrifice to escape, not one look, one word, profiting by all the smallest things and doing them through love.

He permitted my soul to be invaded by the thickest darkness, and that the thought of heaven, up until then so sweet to me, be no longer anything but the cause of struggle and torment... It seems to me that the darkness, borrowing the voice of sinners, says mockingly to me: "You are dreaming about the light, about a fatherland embalmed in the sweetest perfumes... dream on, dream on; rejoice in death which will give you not what you hope for but a night still more profound, the night of nothingness."

When I sing of the happiness of heaven and of the eternal possession of God, I feel no joy in this, for I sing simply what I WANT TO BELIEVE. It is true that at times a very small ray of the sun comes to illumine my darkness, and then the trial ceases for an instant, but afterwards the memory of this ray, instead of causing me joy, makes my darkness even more dense.

I must sit down at this table filled with bitterness at which poor sinners are eating, and I remain there until the hour that You set... But also can I not say in my name and in the name of my brothers and sisters: Have pity on us, Lord, for we are poor sinners?

It is confidence and nothing but confidence that must lead us to Love.

Yes, I feel it; even though I had on my conscience all the sins that can be committed, I would go, my heart broken with sorrow, and throw myself into Jesus' arms, for I know how much He loves the prodigal child who returns to Him.

In order to live in one single act of perfect Love, I OFFER MYSELF AS A VICTIM OF HOLOCAUST TO YOUR MERCIFUL LOVE, asking You to consume me incessantly, allowing the waves of infinite tenderness shut up within You to overflow into my soul, and that thus I may become a martyr of Your Love, O my God!

My God, I love You!