The miracle was granted

Finally, on the fourth day, which happened to be a Saturday, the day consecrated to the sweet Queen of heaven, I went to see Uncle. What was my surprise when I saw him looking at me, and, without expressing any desire to speak to him, he had me come into his study! He began by making some gentle reproaches because I appeared to be afraid of him, and then he said it wasn’t necessary to beg for a miracle, that he had only asked God to give him “a simple change of heart” and that he had been answered. Ah! I was not tempted to beg for a miracle because the miracle had been granted; Uncle was no longer the same. Without making any allusion whatsoever to “human prudence,” he told me I was a little flower God wanted to gather, and he would no longer oppose it!

This definitive response was truly worthy of him. For the third time now, this Christian of another age allowed one of the adopted daughters of his heart to go bury herself far from the world. Aunt, too, was admirable in her tenderness and prudence. I don’t remember her saying a single word during my trial that could have increased my sufferings. I understood she pitied her little Thérèse. But when Uncle gave his consent, she too gave hers, but at the same time she showed me in a thousand little ways the great sorrow my departure would be for her. Alas, our dear relatives were far from expecting the same sacrifice would be asked of them twice over. But when God stretches our His hand to ask, His hand is never empty, and His intimate friends can draw from Him the courage and strength they need.

My heart is carrying me far from my subject and so, regretfully, I return to it. After Uncle’s response you can easily understand, dear Mother, how I took the road back to Les Buissonnets with happiness flooding my heart. It was under “a beautiful sky, from which all the clouds were dispersed!” In my soul, too, the night had come to an end. Awakening, Jesus brought back joy, the noise of the waves was abated, and in place of the wind of trial, a light breeze expanded my sail and I believed I’d reach the blessed shore, now seemingly so close! It was really very close to my boat, but more than one storm was still to arise. Hiding from me the view of the luminous beacon, these storms caused me to fear lest I should be driven far from the shore so ardently desired without any hope of return.