No doubt she thought she was quickly to join the white-robed band of the Holy Innocents.  She little knew that two long months of martyrdom had still to run their course.  “Dear Mother,” she said, “I entreat you, give me leave to die.  Let me offer my life for such and such an intention”—­naming it to the Prioress.  And when the permission was refused, she replied:  “Well, I know that just at this moment Our Lord has such a longing for a tiny bunch of grapes—­which no one will give Him—­that He will perforce have to come and steal it. . . .  I do not ask anything; this would be to stray from my path of self-surrender.  I only beseech Our Lady to remind her Jesus of the title of Thief, which He takes to Himself in the Gospels, so that He may not forget to come and carry me away.”

. . . . . . .

One day Soeur Therese took an ear of corn from a sheaf they had brought her.  It was so laden with grain that it bent on its stalk, and after gazing upon it for some time she said to the Mother Prioress:  “Mother, that ear of corn is the image of my soul.  God has loaded it with graces for me and for many others.  And it is my dearest wish ever to bend beneath the weight of God’s gifts, acknowledging that all comes from Him.”

She was right.  Her soul was indeed laden with graces, and it was easy to discern the Spirit of God speaking His praises out of the mouth of that innocent child.

Had not this Spirit of Truth already dictated these words to the great Teresa of Avila: 

“Let those souls who have reached to perfect union with God hold themselves in high esteem, with a humble and holy presumption.  Let them keep unceasingly before their eyes the remembrance of the good things they have received, and beware of the thought that they are practising humility in not recognising the gifts of God.  Is it not clear that the constant remembrance of gifts bestowed serves to increase the love of the giver?  How can he who ignores the riches he possesses, spend them generously upon others?”

But the above was not the only occasion on which the “little Therese of Lisieux"[8] gave utterance to words that proved prophetic.  In the month of April, 1895, while she was still in excellent health, she said in confidence to one of the older nuns:  “I shall die soon.  I do not say that it will be in a few months, but in two or three years at most; I know it because of what is taking place in my soul.”

The novices betrayed surprise when she read their inmost thoughts.  “This is my secret,” she said to them:  “I never reprimand you without first invoking Our Blessed Lady, and asking her to inspire me as to what will be most for your good, and I am often astonished myself at the things I teach you.  At such times I feel that I make no mistake, and that it is Jesus Who speak by my lips.”

During her illness one of her sisters had experienced some moments of acute distress, amounting almost to discouragement, at the thought of the inevitable parting.  Immediately afterwards she went to the Infirmary, but was careful not to let any sign of grief be seen.  What was her surprise when Therese, in a sad and serious tone, thus addressed her:  “We ought not to weep like those who have no hope.”