The Autobiography of Saint Therese by John Beevers

Author:John Beevers [Beevers, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-77808-6
Publisher: The Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2011-01-26T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

The day chosen for my entry was Monday, April 9, 1888. Carmel was celebrating the Feast of the Annunciation which had been put back because of Easter. The evening before we all gathered round the family table where I sat for the last time. Moments of farewell are heartbreaking and I longed to be ignored. Everyone, though, spoke to me so tenderly that the pain of separation was made even sharper.

I left for Carmel next morning, after a last glance at Les Buissonnets where I had spent so many happy hours. I heard Mass in the midst of my dear relatives. They were all sobbing as they received Jesus in Holy Communion. I shed no tears, but as I walked to the door of the enclosure my heart beat so violently that I thought I should die. The agony of such a moment has to be experienced to be understood.

I kissed all my relatives and knelt before Father to receive his blessing. He knelt himself and blessed me as he wept. To see this old man offering God his child, still in the springtime of her life, was a sight to make the angels rejoice. Then at last the doors of Carmel closed behind me and I was embraced by those beloved sisters who had been like mothers to me and by a whole new family whose love and tenderness is little guessed at by the world outside.

So my longing was at last fulfilled. I knew a deep and serene peace beyond description. For eight and a half years this peace has been mine and it has never left me even in the midst of the most severe trials.

Everything in the convent charmed me. My little cell gave me special pleasure. Yet, I repeat, it was a tranquil happiness I knew and not the slightest breeze ruffled the peaceful waters over which my little boat moved. Not a single cloud darkened my sky. I was fully recompensed for all I had suffered and it was with profound joy that I said to myself over and over again: “Now I am here for good!”

There was nothing transitory about my happiness and it wasn’t an illusion which disappeared after my first few weeks in the convent. For God, in his mercy, has preserved me from illusions. I found that a nun’s life was just what I imagined it would be. None of its sacrifices surprised me, and yet, as you know, Mother, there were at first more thorns than roses on my path.

For one thing, I suffered from grievous spiritual dryness. And, in addition, Our Lord allowed the prioress to treat me with great severity, though she didn’t always realise it. I never met her without being reprimanded for something. I remember once, when I had overlooked a cobweb in the cloister, she said to me in front of all the other nuns: “It’s easy to see our cloister is swept by a child of fifteen! Go and sweep the cobweb away and be more careful in future.

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