“I understand clearly how St. Peter fell.  He placed too much reliance on his own ardent nature, instead of leaning solely on the Divine strength.  Had he only said:  ’Lord, give me strength to follow Thee unto death!’ the grace would not have been refused him.

“How is it, Mother, that Our Lord, knowing what was about to happen, did not say to him:  ’Ask of Me the strength to do what is in thy mind?’ I think His purpose was to give us a twofold lesson—­first:  that He taught His Apostles nothing by His presence which He does not teach us through the inspirations of grace; and secondly:  that, having made choice of St. Peter to govern the whole Church, wherein there are many sinners, He wished him to test in himself what man can do without God’s help.  This is why Jesus said to him before his fall:  ’Thou being once converted confirm thy brethren’;[23] that is, ’Tell them the story of thy sin—­show them by thy own experience, how necessary it is for salvation to rely solely upon Me.’”

* * * * * *

I was much afflicted at seeing her ill, and I often exclaimed:  “Life is so dreary!” “Life is not dreary”—­she would immediately say; “on the contrary, it is most gay.  Now if you said:  ’Exile is dreary,’ I could understand.  It is a mistake to call ‘life’ that which must have an end.  Such a word should be only used of the joys of Heaven—­joys that are unfading—­and in this true meaning life is not sad but gay—­most gay. . . .”

Her own gaiety was a thing of delight.  For several days she had been much better, and we were saying to her:  “We do not yet know of what disease you will die. . . .”  “But,” she answered, “I shall die of death!  Did not God tell Adam of what he would die when He said to him:  ’Thou shalt die of death’?"[24]

“Then death will come to fetch you?”—­“No, not death, but the Good God.  Death is not, as pictures tell us, a phantom, a horrid spectre.  The Catechism says that it is the separation of soul and body—­no more!  Well, I do not fear a separation which will unite me for ever to God.”

“Will the Divine Thief," some one asked, “soon come to steal His little bunch of grapes?” “I see Him in the distance, and I take good care not to cry out:  ‘Stop thief!’ Rather, I call to Him:  ‘This way, this way!’”

* * * * * *

Asked under what name we should pray to her in Heaven, she answered humbly:  “Call me Little Therese."

* * * * * *

I was telling her that the most beautiful angels, all robed in white, would bear her soul to Heaven:  “Fancies like those,” she answered, “do not help me, and my soul can only feed upon truth.  God and His Angels are pure spirits.  No human eye can see them as they really are.  That is why I have never asked extraordinary favours.  I prefer to await the Eternal Vision.”

“To console me at your death I have asked God to send me a beautiful dream.”—­“That is a thing I would never do . . . ask for consolations.  Since you wish to resemble me, you know what are my ideas on this: