The veiled face
I had permission to be with Sister Marie of the Sacred Heart,43 and we were talking as always about the things of the other life and our childhood memories. I recalled to her the vision I had seen at the age of six or seven, and all of a sudden, while I was describing the details of the strange scene, we understood simultaneously what it meant. It was indeed Papa whom I had seen advancing, bent over with age. It was indeed Papa, who was bearing on his venerable countenance and white hair the symbol of his glorious trial.44 Just as the adorable Face of Jesus was veiled during His Passion, so the face of His faithful servant had to be veiled in the days of his sufferings in order that it might shine in the heavenly Fatherland near its Lord, the Eternal Word!
43. According to a custom then in usage in Carmel, the Sisters had “permission” on certain feast days to converse privately with one another.
44. The paralysis that affected M. Martin’s mental faculties during the five last years of his life and necessitated a stay in the psychiatric hospital. See chapter 7 for more details.
It is from the midst of this ineffable glory where he reigns in heaven that our dear Father obtained for us the grace to understand the vision his little Queen had at an age when illusions are not to be feared. It is from the midst of glory he obtained this sweet consolation of understanding that God, ten years before our great trial, was already showing it to us. He was doing this as a Father who gives His children a glimpse of the glorious future He is preparing for them and is pleased to have them consider in advance the priceless riches which will be their heritage.
Ah! why was it to me that God gave this light? Why did He show such a small child a thing she couldn’t understand, a thing which, if she had understood, would have made her die of grief? Why? This is one of the mysterious we shall understand only in heaven and which we shall eternally admire!
How good God really is! How He parcels out trials only according to the strength He gives us. Never, as I’ve said already, would I have been able to bear even the thought of the bitter pains the future held in store for me. I wasn’t even able to think of Papa dying without trembling. Once he had climbed to the top of a ladder and as I was standing directly below, he cried out: “Move away, little one, if I fall, I’ll crush you!” When I heard this, I experienced an interior revulsion and instead of moving away I clung to the ladder, thinking: “At least, if Papa falls, I’ll not have the grief of seeing him die; I’ll die with him!”
I cannot say how much I loved Papa; everything in him caused me to admire him. When he explained his ideas to me (as though I were a big girl), I told him very simply that surely if he said this to the great men of the government, they would take him to make him King, and then France would be happy as it had never been before. But in the bottom of my heart I was happy as it was only myself who knew Papa well, for if he became King of France and Navarre, I knew he would be unhappy because this is the lot of all monarchs; but above all he would no longer be my King alone!