When a gardener gives special attention to a fruit which he wishes to ripen early, he does so, not with a view to leaving it on the tree, but in order to place it on a well-spread table.  Our Lord lavished His favours on His Little Flower in the same way.  He wishes His Mercies to shine forth in me—­He Who, while on earth, cried out in a transport of joy:  “I bless Thee, O Father, because Thou hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent and hast revealed them to little ones."[9]

And because I was small and frail, He bent down to me and instructed me sweetly in the secrets of His love.  As St. John of the Cross says in his “Canticle of the Soul”: 

        On that happy night
        In secret I went forth, beheld by none,
        And seeing naught;
        Having no light nor guide
        Excepting that which burned within my heart,

        Which lit my way
        More safely than the glare of noon-day sun
        To where, expectant,
        He waited for me Who doth know me well,
        Where none appeared but He.

This place was Carmel, but before I could “sit down under His Shadow Whom I desired,"[10] I had to pass through many trials.  And yet the Divine Call was becoming so insistent that, had it been necessary for me to go through fire, I would have thrown myself into it to follow my Divine Master.

Pauline[11] was the only one who encouraged me in my vocation; Marie thought I was too young, and you, dear Mother, no doubt to prove me, tried to restrain my ardour.  From the start I encountered nothing but difficulties.  Then, too, I dared not speak of it to Celine, and this silence pained me deeply; it was so hard to have a secret she did not share.

However, this dear sister soon found out my intention, and, far from wishing to keep me back, she accepted the sacrifice with wonderful courage.  As she also wished to be a nun, she ought to have been given the first opportunity; but, imitating the martyrs of old, who used joyfully to embrace those chosen to go before them into the arena, she allowed me to leave her, and took my troubles as much to heart as if it were a question of her own vocation.  From Celine, then, I had nothing to fear, but I did not know how to set about telling Papa.  How could his little Queen talk of leaving him when he had already parted with his two eldest daughters?  Moreover, this year he had been stricken with a serious attack of paralysis, and though he recovered quickly we were full of anxiety for the future.

What struggles I went through before I could make up my mind to speak!  But I had to act decisively; I was now fourteen and a half, and in six months’ time the blessed feast of Christmas would be here.  I had resolved to enter the Carmel at the same hour at which a year before I had received the grace of conversion.

I chose the feast of Pentecost on which to make my great disclosure.  All day I was praying for light from the Holy Ghost, and begging the Apostles to pray for me, to inspire me with the words I ought to use.  Were they not the very ones to help a timid child whom God destines to become an apostle of apostles by prayer and sacrifice?