St. Thérèse Martin (1873–1897 AD) was born in France into a devout, Catholic family. All five daughters entered religious life and both parents (Louis & Zélie) went on to be canonized in 2015. Thérèse received special permission to join the Carmelite convent in her hometown of Lisieux at the young age of 15. She would live and pray and work there in obscurity until her death from tuberculosis at the age of 24.
After her passing, the publishing of her spiritual autobiography, “The Story of a Soul,” was phenomenally successful and there were widespread reports of prayers being answered through her intercession. St. Pope Pius X (1903-1914) privately described her as “the greatest saint of modern times” and she was canonized in 1925. Her feast day is October 1st.
Despite her greatness, Thérèse experienced everyday difficulties like our own. Amidst these she sought to do small things with great love; calling this her “Little Way” to holiness and Heaven. This is one episode St. Thérèse relates in her (highly-recommended) autobiography:
“The practice of charity, as I have said, dear Mother [Mother Agnes, that is, her biological sister, Pauline, who was prioress at the time,] was not always so sweet for me, and to prove it to you I am going to recount certain little struggles which will certainly make you smile. For a long time at evening meditation, I was placed in front of a sister who had a strange habit and I think many lights [spiritual insights] because she rarely used a book during meditation. This is what I noticed: as soon as this sister arrived, she began making a strange little noise which resembled the noise one would make when rubbing two shells, one against the other. I was the only one to notice it because I had extremely sensitive hearing (too much so at times.) Mother, it would be impossible for me to tell you how much this little noise wearied me. I had a great desire to turn my head and stare at the culprit who was very certainly unaware of her ‘click.’ This would be the only way of enlightening her. However, in the bottom of my heart I felt it was much better to suffer this out of love for God and not to cause the sister any pain. I remained calm, therefore, and tried to unite myself to God and to forget the little noise. Everything was useless. I felt the perspiration inundate me, and I was obliged simply to make a prayer of doing it without annoyance and with peace and joy, at least in the interior of my soul. I tried to love the little noise which was so displeasing; instead of trying not to hear it (impossible), I paid close attention so as to hear it well, as though it were a delightful concert, and my prayer (which was not the Prayer of Quiet) was spent in offering this concert to Jesus.”
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