I had Marie, too, who took Pauline’s place.  Every evening I spent a long time with her, listening eagerly to all she said.  How delightfully she talked to me!  I felt myself set on fire by her noble, generous spirit.  As the warriors of old trained their children in the profession of arms, so she trained me for the battle of life, and roused my ardour by pointing to the victor’s glorious palm.  She spoke, too, of the imperishable riches which are so easy to amass each day, and of the folly of trampling them under foot when one has but to stoop and gather them.  When she talked so eloquently, I was sorry that I was the only one to listen to her teaching, for, in my simplicity, it seemed to me that the greatest sinners would be converted if they but heard her, and that, forsaking the perishable riches of this world, they would seek none but the riches of Heaven.

I should have liked at this time to practise mental prayer, but Marie, finding me sufficiently devout, only let me say my vocal prayers.  A mistress at the Abbey asked me once what I did on holidays, when I stayed at home.  I answered timidly:  “I often hide myself in a corner of my room where I can shut myself in with the bed curtains, and then I think.”  “But what do you think about?” said the good nun, laughing.  “I think about the Good God, about the shortness of life, and about eternity:  in a word, I think." My mistress did not forget this, and later on she used to remind me of the time when I thought, asking me if I still thought. . . .  Now, I know that I was really praying, while my Divine Master gently instructed me.

The three months’ preparation for First Communion passed quickly by; it was soon time for me to begin my retreat, and, during it, I stayed at the Abbey.  Oh, what a blessed retreat it was!  I do not think that one can experience such joy except in a religious house; there, with only a few children, it is easy for each one to receive special attention.  I write this in a spirit of filial gratitude; our mistresses at the Abbey showed us a true motherly affection.  I do not know why, but I saw plainly that they watched over me more carefully than they did over the others.

Every night the first mistress, carrying her little lamp, opened my bed curtains softly, and kissed me tenderly on the forehead.  She showed me such affection that, touched by her kindness, I said one night:  “Mother, I love you so much that I am going to tell you a great secret.”  Then I took from under my pillow the precious little book you had given me, and showed it to her, my eyes sparkling with pleasure.  She opened it with care, and, looking through it attentively, told me how privileged I was.  In fact, several times during the retreat, the truth came home to me that very few motherless children of my age are as lovingly cared for as I was then.

I listened most attentively to the instructions given us by Father Domin, and wrote careful notes on them, but I did not put down any of my own thoughts, as I knew I should remember them quite well.  And so it proved.