The divine call. Desire to enter Carmel

When a gardener carefully tends a fruit he wants to ripen before its time, it’s not to leave it hanging on a tree but to set it on his table. It was with such an intention that Jesus showered His graces so lavishly upon His little flower, He, who cried out in His mortal life: “I thank thee, Father, that thou hast these things from the wise and the prudent and revealed them to babes,” ¹⁰⁹ willed to have His mercy shine out in me. Because I was little and weak He lowered Himself to me, and He instructed me secretly in the things of His love. Ah! had the learned who spent their life in study come to me, undoubtedly they would have been astonished to see a child of fourteen understand perfections secrets, secrets all their knowledge cannot reveal because to possess them one has to be poor in spirit!

As St. John of the Cross writes in his canticle:

On that glad night,

in secret, for no one saw me,

nor did I look at anything,

with no other light or guide

than the one that burned in my heart.

This guided me

more surely than the light of noon

to where he was awaiting me

—him I knew so well—

there in a place where no one appeared.¹¹⁰

110. Dark Night, st. 3 and 4, Collected Works, p. 51.

This place was Carmel. Before “resting in shadow of him, whom I desired,” ¹¹¹ I was to pass through many trials, but the divine call was so strong that had I been forced to pass through flames, I would have done it out of love for Jesus.

I found only one soul to encourage me in my vocation, that of my dear Mother. My heart found a faithful echo in hers, and without her, perhaps, I would not have reached the blessed shore which received her five years before on its soil permeated with the heavenly dew. Yes, I was separated from you for five years, dear Mother, and I believed I’d lost you forever; at the moment of trial you hand pointed out the way I should follow. I needed this help, for my visit to Carmel had become more and more painful, and I was unable to speak of my desire to enter without feeling opposed. Marie, thinking I was too young, did everything possible to prevent my entering; and you, dear Mother, to prove me, sometimes tried to slacken my ardor. If I hadn’t had a vocation, I would have been stopped from the beginning, so many obstacles did I receive when trying to answer Jesus’ call. I didn’t want to speak to Céline about my desire to enter so young and this caused me much suffering, for it was difficult for me to hide anything from her.

This suffering, however, didn’t last long; soon my dear little sister learned of my determination and, far from turning me away from it, she courageously accepted the sacrifice God was asking of her. To understand how great it was, one would have to know very close we were. It was, so to speak, the same soul giving us life. For some months we’d enjoyed together the most beautiful life young girls could dream about. Everything around us correspond with out tastes; we were given the greatest liberty; I would say our life on earth was the ideal of happiness.

Hardly had we the time to taste this ideal of happiness when it was necessary to turn away from it freely, and my dear Céline did not rebel for one instant. And still it wasn’t she who Jesus was calling first, and she could have complained, for having the same vocation as I, it was her right to leave first! But as in the time of the martyrs, those who remained in prison joyfully gave the kiss of peace to their brothers who were leaving first for combat in the arena, consoling themselves with the thought that perhaps they were reserved for even greater combats, thus Céline allowed her Thérèse to leave and she stayed for the glorious and bloody struggle to which Jesus had destined her as the privileged one of His love! ¹¹²