French Discalced Carmelite nun, Doctor of the Church (1873–1897)
Thérèse of Lisieux (2 January 1873 – 30 September 1897) was a French Discalced Carmelite nun. She was canonized in 1925.
From: Wikiquote (CC BY-SA 4.0)
Also Known As:
The Little Flower
Alternative Names:
Therese of Lisieux
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Saint Therese of Lisieux
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Therese Martin
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Saint Therese of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, O.C.D.
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Marie-Françoise-Therese Martin
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Santa Teresa de Lisieux
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Teresita del Nino Jesus
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St Theresa of the Child Jesus
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Marie-Françoise Martin
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Marie-Françoise-Thérèse Martin
From Wikidata (CC0)
I understood that every flower created by Him is beautiful, that the brilliance of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not lessen the perfume of the violet or the sweet simplicity of the daisy. I understood that if all the lowly flowers wished to be roses, Nature would lose her springtide beauty, and the fields would no longer be enameled with lovely hues. It is the same in the world of souls, Our Lord's living garden
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"MY DEAR LITTLE CÉLINE, — Jesus offers you the cross, a very heavy cross, and you are afraid of not being able to carry it without giving way. Why? Our Beloved Himself fell three times on the way to Calvary, and why should we not imitate our Spouse? What a favour from Jesus, and how He must love us to send us so great a sorrow! Eternity itself will not be long enough to bless Him for it.
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Now we have nothing more to hope for on earth — "the cool evenings are passed" — for us suffering alone remains! Ours is an enviable lot, and the Seraphim in Heaven are jealous of our happiness.
The other day I came across this striking passage: "To be resigned and to be united to the will of God are not the same; there is the same difference between them as that which exists between union and unity; in union there are still two, in unity there is but one." Yes, let us be one with God even in this life; and for this we should be more than resigned, we should embrace the Cross with joy."
One time I was expressing surprise that God should not give equal glory in heaven to all His elect, and I was afraid that everyone would not be happy. Then Pauline told me to go get Papa’s big glass and to put it next to my little dice cup, and to fill them with water. Then she asked me which one was the most full. I told her that one was as full as the other and that it was impossible to put in more water than they could hold. Then my dear mother helped me understand that in Heaven, God would give to His elect as much glory as they could hold, and so the last would have nothing to envy about the first.
I don’t have the courage to make a strict rule for myself to search in books for beautiful prayers. That gives me a headache, there are so many of them! . . . And then some are more beautiful than others. . . . I wouldn’t know how to recite them all. Not knowing which one to choose, I do as children do who don’t know how to read: I very simply tell God what I want to tell Him, without making beautiful phrases, and He always understands me. . . . For me, prayer is an upward rising of the heart, it’s a simple glance toward heaven, it’s a cry of gratitude and love in the midst of trials as much as in the midst of joys. In short, it’s something big, something great, something supernatural, that expands my heart and unites me to Jesus.
Offer to God the sacrifice of never gathering any fruit. If He will that throughout your whole life you should feel a repugnance to suffering and humiliation — if He permit that all the flowers of your desires and of your good will should fall to the ground without any fruit appearing, do not worry. At the hour of death, in the twinkling of an eye, He will cause fair fruits to ripen on the tree of your soul.