Dear Mother, you know very well that it was not my wish to turn my companion away from you, I only wanted her to grasp that true love feeds on sacrifice, and that in proportion as our souls renounce natural enjoyments our affections become stronger and more detached.

I remember that when I was a postulant I was sometimes so violently tempted to seek my own satisfaction by having a word with you, that I was obliged to hurry past your cell and hold on to the banisters to keep myself from turning back.  Numerous permissions I wanted to ask, and a hundred pretexts for yielding to my desires suggested themselves, but now I am truly glad that I did not listen.  I already enjoy the reward promised to those who fight bravely.  I no longer feel the need of refusing myself these consolations, for my heart is fixed on God.  Because it has loved Him only, it has grown, little by little, and now it can give to those who are dear to Him a far deeper and truer love than if it were centred in a barren and selfish affection.

I have told you of the first piece of work which you accomplished together with Our Lord by means of the little brush, but that was only the prelude to the masterpiece which was afterwards to be painted.  From the moment I entered the sanctuary of souls, I saw at a glance that the task was beyond my strength.  Throwing myself without delay into Our Lord’s Arms, I imitated those tiny children, who, when they are frightened, hide their faces on their father’s shoulder, and I said: 

“Dear Lord, Thou seest that I am too small to feed these little ones, but if through me Thou wilt give to each what is suitable, then fill my hands, and without leaving the shelter of Thine Arms, or even turning away, I will distribute Thy treasures to the souls who come to me asking for food.  Should they find it to their taste, I shall know that this is due not to me, but to Thee; and if, on the contrary, they find fault with its bitterness, I shall not be cast down, but try to persuade them that it cometh from Thee, while taking good care to make no change in it.”

The knowledge that it was impossible to do anything of myself rendered my task easier.  My one interior occupation was to unite myself more and more closely to God, knowing that the rest would be given to me over and above.  And indeed my hope has never been deceived; I have always found my hands filled when sustenance was needed for the souls of my Sisters.  But had I done otherwise, and relied on my own strength, I should very soon have been forced to abandon my task.

From afar it seems so easy to do good to souls, to teach them to love God more, and to model them according to one’s own ideas.  But, when we draw nearer, we quickly feel that without God’s help this is quite as impossible as to bring back the sun when once it has set.  We must forget ourselves, and put aside our tastes and ideas, and guide souls not by our own way, but along the path which Our Lord points out.  Even this is not the most difficult part; what costs me more than all is having to observe their faults, their slightest imperfections, and wage war against them.