Assisi

I had the opportunity at the little town of Assisi of climbing into Father Révérony’s carriage, a favor granted to no woman during the whole trip. Here is how I obtained this privilege. After having visited the places made sacred by the virtues of St. Francis and St. Clare, we were ending up in the monastery of St. Agnes, the sister of St. Clare. I had studied the Saint’s head at my leisure and was one of the last to leave when I noticed my belt was lost. I looked for it in the crowd; a priest had pity on me and helped in the search. After he found it, I saw him depart and I remained alone to search, for I had the belt but it was impossible to wear it as the buckle was missing. At last I saw it shining in a corner. Taking it and adjusting it to the belt was the work of an instant, but the work preceding this had taken up much time, and I was greatly surprised to find myself alone in front of the church. The numerous carriages had all disappeared, with the sole exception of Father Révérony’s. What was I to do? Should I run after the carriages no longer in sight and expose myself to the danger of missing the train and thus upsetting my dear Papa, or else ask for a place in Father Révérony’s coach? I decided on the latter. With my most gracious manner, trying to appear as little embarrassed as I could though I was greatly embarrassed, I explained my critical situation to him. I put him also in an embarrassing situation, for his carriage was filled with the most important men of the pilgrimage. There wasn’t a single place left, but one good gentleman hastened to descend, made me climb into his place, and humbly took a seat beside the driver. I was like a squirrel caught in a trap and was far from being at ease, surrounded as I was by all these great personages and especially the most formidable of all; I was placed directly opposite to him. He was very friendly toward me, however, and even interrupted his conversation with the others from time to time to speak to me about Carmel. Before we reached the station, all the great personages took their huge purse out to give some money to the driver (already paid). I did the same thing, taking out my very little purse. Father Révérony did not agree with what I drew out from it, some pretty little coins, and instead he offered a large coin for both of us.

I was by his side, on another occasion, on a bus, and he was even more friendly, promising to do all he could to have me enter Carmel. While placing a little balm on my wounds, these little encounters did not prevent my return from being much less agreeable than my going, for I no longer had the hope “of the Holy Father.” I found no help at all on earth, which appeared to me as an arid desert without water.¹⁵⁴ All my hope was in God alone. I had just had the experience that it was much better to have recourse to Him than to his saints.