My Reception of the Habit

The time for my reception of the Habit had arrived. I was accepted by the conventual chapter, but how could we dream of any kind of ceremony? Already they were talking of giving me the Habit without my going outside the cloister,¹⁸⁴ and then they decided to wait. Against all expectation, our dear Father recovered from his second attack, and the Bishop set the ceremony for January 10. The wait had been long, but what a beautiful celebration it was!

Nothing was missing, not even the snow!  I don’t know if I’ve already told you how much I love snow? When I was small, its whiteness filled me with delight, and one of the greatest pleasures I had was taking a walk under the light snowflakes. Where did this love of snow come from? Perhaps it was because I was a little winter flower, and the first adornment with which my eyes beheld nature clothed was its white mantle. I had always wished that on the day I received the Habit, nature would be adorned in white just like me. The evening before, I was gazing at the gray skies from which a fine rain was falling every now and again, and the temperature was so mild I could no longer hope for any snow. The following morning the skies hadn’t changed.¹⁸⁵ The celebration, however, was wonderful. The most beautiful, the most attractive flower of all was my dear King; never had he looked so handsome, so dignified. Everybody admired him. This was really his day of triumph and it was to be his last celebration on this earth. He had now given all his children to God, for Céline, too, had confided her vocation to him. He had wept tears of joy, and had gone with her to thank Him who “bestowed such honor on him by taking all his children.”¹⁸⁶

At the termination of the ceremony the Bishop intoned the Te Deum. One of the priests remarked to him that this hymn of thanksgiving was usually sung only at Professions, but, once begun, it was continued to the end. And indeed it was fitting that the feast be thus completed since in it were united all the others.

After embracing my dear King for the last time, I entered the cloister once more, and the first thing that struck my eye was the statue of “the little Jesus” smiling at me from the midst of flowers and lights. Immediately afterward, my glance was drawn to the snow, the monastery garden was white like me! What thoughtfulness on the part of Jesus! Anticipating the desires of His fiancée, He gave her snow! What mortal bridegroom, no matter how powerful he may be, could make snow fall from heaven to charm his beloved? Perhaps people wondered and asked themselves this question. What is certain, though, is that many considered the snow on my Clothing Day as a little miracle and the whole town was astonished. Some found I had a strange taste, loving snow!

Well, so much the better! This accentuated even more the incomprehensible condescension of the Spouse of virgins, of Him who loves Lilies white as SNOW!

The Bishop came into the cloister after the ceremony and was very kind to me.¹⁸⁷ I believe he was very proud I had succeeded and told everyone I was “his little girl.”  He was always kind to me on his return trips to the Carmel. I remember especially his visit on the occasion of our Father St. John of the Cross’s Centenary. He took my head in his hands and gave me a thousand caresses; never was I so honored! At the same time, God reminded me of the caresses He will bestow on me in the presence of the angels and saints, and now He was giving me only a faint image of this. The consolation I experienced at this thought was very great indeed!