Do you remember my telling you, dear Mother, how fond I am of snow?  While I was still quite small, its whiteness entranced me.  Why had I such a fancy for snow?  Perhaps it was because, being a little winter flower, my eyes first saw the earth clad in its beautiful white mantle.  So, on my clothing day, I wished to see it decked, like myself, in spotless white.  The weather was so mild that it might have been spring, and I no longer dared hope for snow.  The morning of the feast brought no change and I gave up my childish desire, as impossible to be realised.  My Father came to meet me at the enclosure door, his eyes full of tears, and pressing me to his heart exclaimed:  “Ah!  Here is my little Queen!” Then, giving me his arm, we made our solemn entry into the public Chapel.  This was his day of triumph, his last feast on earth; now his sacrifice was complete, and his children belonged to God.[5] Celine had already confided to him that later on she also wished to leave the world for the Carmel.  On hearing this he was beside himself with joy:  “Let us go before the Blessed Sacrament,” he said, “and thank God for all the graces He has granted us and the honour He has paid me in choosing His Spouses from my household.  God has indeed done me great honour in asking for my children.  If I possessed anything better I would hasten to offer it to Him.”  That something better was himself, “and God received him as a victim of holocaust; He tried him as gold in the furnace, and found him worthy of Himself."[6]

After the ceremony in the Chapel I re-entered the Convent and the Bishop intoned the Te Deum. One of the Priests observed to him that this hymn of thanksgiving was only sung at professions, but, once begun, it was continued to the end.  Was it not right that this feast should be complete, since in it all other joyful days were reunited?

The instant I set foot in the enclosure again my eyes fell on the statue of the Child Jesus smiling on me amid the flowers and lights; then, turning towards the quadrangle, I saw that, in spite of the mildness of the weather, it was covered with snow.  What a delicate attention on the part of Jesus!  Gratifying the least wish of His little Spouse, He even sent her this.  Where is the creature so mighty that he can make one flake of it fall to please his beloved?

Everyone was amazed, and since then many people, hearing of my desire, have described this event as “the little miracle” of my clothing day, and thought it strange I should be so fond of snow.  So much the better, it shows still more the wonderful condescension of the Spouse of Virgins—­of Him Who loves lilies white as the snow.  After the ceremony the Bishop entered.  He gave me many proofs of his fatherly tenderness, and, in presence of all the Priests, spoke of my visit to Bayeux and the journey to Rome; nor did he forget to tell them how I had put up my hair before visiting him.  Then, laying his hand on my head, he blessed me affectionately.