SOMETIMES I find myself saying to the Holy Virgin: "Do you know, O cherished Mother, that I think myself more fortunate than you? I have you for Mother and you have not, like me, the Blessed Virgin to love . . . You are, it is true, the Mother of Jesus, but you have given Him to me, and He, from the cross gave you to us as our Mother, so we are richer than you. Of old it was your desire that you might be the little handmaiden of the Mother of God; and I, poor little creature, I am, not your servant, but your child: you are the Mother of Jesus and you are my Mother."
XIII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
O MARY, if I were Queen of Heaven and thou wert Thérèse, I fain would be Thérèse to see thee Queen of Heaven!
8 September, 1897.
Last words written by Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus.
[VARIOUS SUBJECTS]
LÉONIE, no doubt finding that she was growing too old to play with dolls, came one day to Céline and me, with a basket full of dolls' clothes, odds and ends of pretty materials, trimmings, etc., on which she had laid her doll, saying to us: "There, little sisters—choose!" Céline looked, and took a knot of edging. After reflecting a moment I, in turn, put out my hand saying: "I choose all!" and I carried off basket and doll without further ceremony.
This trait of my childhood is, as it were, a summary of my entire life. Later on when the meaning of perfection began to unfold itself to me, I understood that to become a saint it is necessary to suffer much, ever to seek after that which is most perfect, and to forget self. I understood that in sanctity the degrees are many, that each soul is free to respond to the advances of our Lord, to do little or much for His sake, in a word, to choose between the sacrifices that He asks. Then, as in the days of my childhood, I exclaimed: "My God, I choose all! I do not wish to be a saint by halves; the thought of suffering for Thee does not frighten me, one thing only do I fear—my own will; take Thou my will, for I choose all that Thou willest."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. I