Señor, yo soy demasiado pequeña para dar de comer a tus hijas. Si tú quieres darle a cada una, por medio de mí, lo que necesita, llena tú mi mano; y … - Thérèse of Lisieux

If a little flower could speak, it seems to me that it would tell us quite simply all that God has done for it, without hiding any of its gifts. It would not, under the pretext of humility, say that it was not pretty, or that it had not a sweet scent, that the sun had withered its petals,or the storm bruised its stem, if it knew that such were not the case.

"And it is the Lord, it is Jesus, Who is my judge. Therefore I will try always to think leniently of others, that He may judge me leniently, or rather not at all, since He says: "Judge not, and ye shall not be judged.

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.