Return to France
After visiting Pisa and Genoa once more, we returned to France. On the return trip the scenery was magnificent. We travelled at times along the side of the sea and the railroad was so close to it that it seemed the waves were going to come right up to us. This impression was created by a tempest which was in progress. It was evening and the scene became all the more imposing. We passed through fields full of orange trees laden with ripe fruit, green olive trees with their light foliage, and graceful palm trees. It was getting dark and we could see many small seaports lighted up by many lights, while in the skies the first stars were beginning to sparkle.
Ah! what poetry flooded my soul at the sight of all these things I was seeing for the first and last time in my life! It was without regret I saw them disappear, for my heart longed for other marvels.157 It had contemplated earthly beauties long enough; those of heaven, were the object of its desires and to win them for souls I was willing to become a prisoner! But before this prison’s doors were to open for me, I was still to suffer and fight. I had a presentiment of this when returning to France, and yet my confidence was so great I didn’t stop hoping I’d be allowed to enter on December 25. We had hardly arrived at Lisieux when our first visit was to the Carmel.158 What an interview that was! We had so many things to talk over after the separation of a month which seemed very long to me and in which I learned more than in several years.
O dear Mother, how wonderful it was to see you once again, to open up to you my poor, little, wounded soul. To you who understood it so well, and to whom a word, a look was sufficient to explain everything! I surrendered myself completely. I had done everything I could, even to speaking to the Holy Father, and I didn’t know what I was still supposed to do. You told me to write to the Bishop, reminding him of his promise; I did this immediately in the best way possible, but Uncle found the words too simple. He wrote the letter over again and at the moment I was about to mail it, I received a letter from you telling me not to write and to wait for a few days. I instantly obeyed, sure it was the best way to make no mistakes. Finally, ten days before Christmas my letter was on its way! Convinced the answer would not be long in coming, I went every morning after Mass with Papa to the Post Office, believing I would find the permission to take my flight. But each morning brought with it a new disappointment which, nevertheless, didn’t shake my faith. I begged Jesus to break my bonds; and He broke them, but in a way totally different from what I expected. The beautiful feast of Christmas arrived and Jesus did not awaken. He left His little ball on the ground without so much as casting a glance at it.
My heart was broken when going to Midnight Mass; I was counting so much on assisting at it behind Carmel’s grilles! This trial was very great for my faith, but the One whose heart watches even when he sleeps159 made me understand that to those whose faith is like that of a mustard seed He grants miracles and moves mountains in order to strengthen this faith which is still small;160 but for His intimate friends, for His Mother, He works no miracles before having tried their faith. Did He not allow Lazarus to die even after Martha and Mary told Him he was sick?161 At the wedding of Cana when the Blessed Virgin asked Jesus to come to the help of the head of the house, didn’t He answer her that His hour had not yet come?162 But after the trial what a reward! The water was changed into wine … Lazarus was raised from the dead! Thus Jesus acted toward His little Thérèse: after having tried her for a long time, He granted all the desires of her heart.