catholicsoul:

St. Therese of Lisieux, Ora Pro Nobis!

iheartbeingacatholic:

St Therese

iheartbeingacatholic:

St Therese

(Source: dailypuns)

(Source: sermoveritas)

(Source: davidroads, via thedailypozitive)

marylikesbagels:

I just died from cuteness.

marylikesbagels:

I just died from cuteness.

nyurt:

cat selfies

(via edwordoh)

(Source: catholicsoul)

joyinfindingjesus:

the meaning of love!

joyinfindingjesus:

the meaning of love!

(Source: acatholicrose)

(via novenanerd)

“The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily
do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm.
If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.”

Thérèse de Lisieux (via servusmariae)

(via novenanerd)

"You cannot be half a saint." St Therese of Lisieux


letmebecatholic:

image

(via a-franciscan-spirit)

First hand account of the death of St. Thérèse by Sister Agnes of Jesus Carmelite.


ordocarmelitarum:

In the morning, I was with her during the Mass. She didn’t speak a word to me. She was exhausted, gasping for breath; her sufferings, I thought, were indescribable. One moment she joined her hands and looked at the statue of the Blessed Virgin.

"Oh! I prayed fervently to her! But it’s the agony, really, without any mixture of consolation."

I spoke a few words of sympathy and affection and I added that she had edified me very much all through her illness:

"And you, the consolations you’ve given me! Ah! they are very great!"

All through the day, without a moment’s respite, she remained, we can say without any exaggeration, in veritable torments.

She appeared to be at the end of her strength and nevertheless, to our great surprise, she was able to move, to sit up in her bed.

"You see the strength that I have today! No, I’m not going to die! I still have strength for months, perhaps years!"

"And if God willed it, " asked Mother Prioress, "would you accept it?" She began to answer in her agony: "It would really have to be …"

But checking herself immediately, she said with a tone of sublime resignation, falling back on her pillows: "I really will it!"

I was able to gather these exclamations, but it is impossible to ex­press the tone in which they were said:

"I no longer believe in death for me. … I believe only in suf­fering… . Well, so much the better! …" "O my God! …" "I love God!"

"O good Blessed Virgin, come to my aid! " "If this is the agony, what is death?! …"

"Ah! my God! … Yes, He is very good, I find Him very good… ." Looking at the statue of the Blessed Virgin: "Oh! you know I’m suffocating!"

"God is going to aid you, poor little one, and it will soon be all over. "

"Yes, but when?"

"… My God, have pity on Your poor little child! Have pity on her!"

To Mother Prioress:

"O Mother, I assure you, the chalice is filled to the brim! …"

"But God is not going to abandon me, I’m sure… ."

"He has never abandoned me."

"Yes, my God, everything that You will, but have pity on me!"

"Little sisters! little sisters! pray for me!"

"My God! my God! You who are so good!"

"Oh, yes, You are good! I know it… ."

After Vespers, Mother Prioress placed a picture of Our Lady of Mount Carmel on her knees. She looked at it for a moment and said, when Mother Prioress assured her she’d be soon caressing the Blessed Virgin and the Child Jesus:

"O Mother, present me quickly to the Blessed Virgin; I’m a baby who can’t stand anymore! … Prepare me for death."

Mother Prioress told her that since she had always understood humility, her preparation was already made. She reflected a moment and spoke these words humbly:

"Yes, it seems to me I never sought anything but the truth; yes, I have understood humility of heart… . It seems to me I’m humble."

She repeated once more:

"All I wrote about my desires for suffering. Oh! it’s true just the same!"

"And I am not sorry for delivering myself up to Love."

With insistence:

"Oh! no, I’m not sorry; on the contrary!"

A little later:

"Never would I have believed it was possible to suffer so much! never! never! I cannot explain this except by the ardent desires I have had to save souls."

Towards five o ‘clock, I was alone by her side. Her face changed all of a sudden; I understood it was her last agony.

When the community entered the infirmary, she welcomed all the Sisters with a sweet smile. She was holding her Crucifix and looking at it constantly.

For more than two hours, a terrible rattle tore her chest. Her face was blue, her hands purplish, her feet were cold, and she shook in all her members. Perspiration stood out in enormous drops on her forehead and rolled down her cheeks. Her difficulties in breathing were always increasing, and in order to breathe she made little in­voluntary cries.

All during this time, so full of agony for us, we heard through the window—it made me suffer very much—the twittering of robins, and other little birds, but this twittering was so strong, so close, and so prolonged! I prayed to God to make them keep silent; this concert pierced my heart, and I feared it would tire out our poor little Thérèse.

At one moment, her mouth seemed to be so dry that Sister Geneviève, thinking to relieve her, placed on her lips a little piece of ice. She accepted it, giving her a smile which I’ll never forget. It was like a last farewell.

At six o’clock, when the Angelus was ringing, she looked at the statue of the Blessed Virgin for a long time.

Finally, at a few minutes past seven, Mother Prioress dismissed the community, and she sighed:

"Mother! Isn’t this the agony! … Am I not going to die? …"

"Oh! I would not want to suffer for a shorter time!"

And looking at her Crucifix: “Yes, my poor little one, it’s the agony, but God perhaps wills to prolong it for several hours. “

She answered with courage:

"Well … All right! …All right!"

"Oh! I love Him! .. .

"My God … I love you! …"

Suddenly, after having pronounced these words, she fell back, her head leaning to the right. Mother Prioress had the infirmary bell rung very quickly to call back the community.

"Open all the doors, " she said at the same time. These words had something solemn about them, and made me think that in heaven God was saying them also to His angels.

The Sisters had time to kneel down around her bed, and they were witnesses to the ecstasy of the little, dying saint. Her face had regained the lily-white complexion it always had in full health; her eyes were fixed above, brilliant with peace and joy. She made certain beautiful movements with her head as though someone had divinely wounded her with an arrow of love, then had withdrawn the arrow to wound her again.

Sister Marie of the Eucharist approached with a candle to get a closer view of that sublime look. In the light of the candle, there didn’t appear any movement in her eyelids. This ecstasy lasted almost the space of a Credo, and then she gave her last breath.

After her death, she had a heavenly smile. She was ravishingly beautiful. She was holding her Crucifix so tightly that we had to force it from her hands to prepare her for burial. Sister Marie of the Sacred Heart and I performed this office, along with Sister Aimée of Jesus, and we noticed she didn’t seem any more than twelve or thirteen years old.

Her limbs were supple right up to her burial, on Monday, October 4, 1897.

(via catholicsoul)

Kreon by Stijn.