unintelligent, and wanting in judgment, I could be of no possible use to you, dear Mother.  This is why the Divine Master has thrown a veil over all my shortcomings, both interior and exterior.  Because of this veil I receive many compliments from the novices—­compliments without flattery, for they really mean what they say; and they do not inspire me with vanity, for the remembrance of my weakness is ever before me.  At times my soul tires of this over-sweet food, and I long to hear something other than praise; then Our Lord serves me with a nice little salad, well spiced, with plenty of vinegar—­oil alone is wanting, and this it is which makes it more to my taste.  And the salad is offered to me by the novices at the moment I least expect.  God lifts the veil that hides my faults, and my dear little Sisters, beholding me as I really am, do not find me altogether agreeable.  With charming simplicity, they tell me how I try them and what they dislike in me; in fact, they are as frank as though they were speaking of someone else, for they are aware that I am pleased when they act in this way.

I am more than pleased—­I am transported with delight by this splendid banquet set before me.  How can anything so contrary to our natural inclinations afford such extraordinary pleasure?  Had I not experienced it, I could not have believed it possible.

One day, when I was ardently longing for some humiliation, a young postulant came to me and sated my desire so completely, that I was reminded of the occasion when Semei cursed David, and I repeated to myself the words of the holy King:  “Yea, it is the Lord who hath bidden him say all these things."[7] In this way God takes care of me.  He cannot always provide that strength-giving bread, exterior humiliation, but from time to time He allows me to eat of “the crumbs from the table of the children."[8] How magnificent are His Mercies!

Dear Mother, since that Infinite Mercy is the subject of this my earthly song, I ought also to discover to you one real advantage, reaped with many others in the discharge of my task.  Formerly, if I saw a Sister acting in a way that displeased me, and was seemingly contrary to rule, I would think:  “Ah, how glad I should be if only I could warn her and point out where she is wrong.”  Since, however, this burden has been laid upon me my ideas have changed, and when I happen to see something not quite right, I say with a sigh of relief:  “Thank God!  It is not a novice, and I am not obliged to correct”; and at once I try to find excuses, and credit the doer with the good intentions she no doubt possesses.

Your devotedness, dear Mother, now that I am ill, has also taught me many a lesson of charity.  No remedy is too costly, and if one does not succeed, you unhesitatingly try something new.  When I am present at recreation, how careful you are to shield me from draughts.  I feel that I ought to be as compassionate for the spiritual infirmities of my Sisters as you are for my bodily ills.