How happy I was to attend Divine Office as the nuns did!  I was easily distinguished from my companions by a large crucifix, which Leonie had given me, and which, like the missionaries, I carried in my belt.  They thought I was trying to imitate my Carmelite sister, and indeed my thoughts did often turn lovingly to her.  I knew she was in retreat too, not that Jesus might give Himself to her, but that she might give herself entirely to Jesus, and this on the same day as I made my First Communion.  The time of quiet waiting was therefore doubly dear to me.

At last there dawned the most beautiful day of all the days of my life.  How perfectly I remember even the smallest details of those sacred hours! the joyful awakening, the reverent and tender embraces of my mistresses and older companions, the room filled with snow-white frocks, where each child was dressed in turn, and, above all, our entrance into the chapel and the melody of the morning hymn:  “O Altar of God, where the Angels are hovering.”

But I would not and I could not tell you all.  Some things lose their fragrance when exposed to the air, and so, too, one’s inmost thoughts cannot be translated into earthly words without instantly losing their deep and heavenly meaning.  How sweet was the first embrace of Jesus!  It was indeed an embrace of love.  I felt that I was loved, and I said:  “I love Thee, and I give myself to Thee for ever.”  Jesus asked nothing of me, and claimed no sacrifice; for a long time He and little Therese had known and understood one another.  That day our meeting was more than simple recognition, it was perfect union.  We were no longer two.  Therese had disappeared like a drop of water lost in the immensity of the ocean; Jesus alone remained—­He was the Master, the King!  Had not Therese asked Him to take away her liberty which frightened her?  She felt herself so weak and frail, that she wished to be for ever united to the Divine Strength.

And then my joy became so intense, so deep, that it could not be restrained; tears of happiness welled up and overflowed.  My companions were astonished, and asked each other afterwards:  “Why did she cry?  Had she anything on her conscience?  No, it is because neither her Mother nor her dearly loved Carmelite sister is here.”  And no one understood that all the joy of Heaven had come down into one heart, and that this heart, exiled, weak, and mortal as it was, could not contain it without tears.

How could my Mother’s absence grieve me on my First Communion Day?  As Heaven itself dwelt in my soul, in receiving a visit from Our Divine Lord I received one from my dear Mother too.  Nor was I crying on account of Pauline’s absence, for we were even more closely united than before.  No, I repeat it—­joy alone, a joy too deep for words, overflowed within me.