And, if to-day Therese transforms so many hearts, and the good she does on earth is beyond reckoning, we may well believe she bought it all at the price with which Jesus bought back our souls:  by suffering and the Cross!

Not the least of these sufferings was the unceasing war she waged against herself, refusing every satisfaction to the demands of her naturally proud and impetuous nature.  While still a child she had acquired the habit of never excusing herself or making a complaint; at the Carmel she strove to be the little servant of her Sisters in religion, and in that same spirit of humility she endeavoured to obey all without distinction.

One evening, during her illness, the Community had assembled in the garden to sing a hymn before an Altar of the Sacred Heart.  Soeur Therese, who was already wasted by fever, joined them with difficulty, and, arriving quite exhausted, was obliged to sit down at once.  When the hymn began, one of the Sisters made her a sign to stand up.  Without hesitation, the humble child rose, and, in spite of the fever and great oppression from which she was suffering, remained standing to the end.

The Infirmarian had advised her to take a little walk in the garden for a quarter of an hour each day.  This recommendation was for her a command.  One afternoon a Sister, noticing what an effort it cost her, said:  “Soeur Therese, you would do much better to rest; walking like this cannot do you any good.  You only tire yourself!” “That is true,” she replied, “but, do you know what gives me strength?  I offer each step for some missionary.  I think that possibly, over there, far away, one of them is weary and tired in his apostolic labours, and to lessen his fatigue I offer mine to the Good God.”

She gave her novices some beautiful examples of detachment.  One year the relations of the Sisters and the servants of the Convent had sent bouquets of flowers for Mother Prioress’s feast.  Therese was arranging them most tastefully, when a Lay-sister said crossly:  “It is easy to see that the large bouquets have been given by your friends.  I suppose those sent by the poor will again be put in the background!” . . .  A sweet smile was the only reply, and notwithstanding the unpleasing effect, she immediately put the flowers sent by the servants in the most conspicuous place.

Struck with admiration, the Lay-sister went at once to the Prioress to accuse herself of her unkindness, and to praise the patience and humility shown by Soeur Therese.

After the death of Therese that same Sister, full of confidence, pressed her forehead against the feet of the saintly nun, once more asking forgiveness for her fault.  At the same instant she felt herself cured of cerebral anaemia, from which she had suffered for many years, and which had prevented her from applying herself either to reading or mental prayer.