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Also known as: Therese of
the Child Jesus, the Little Flower, the Little Flower of Jesus
Profile
Born to a middle-class French family. Her father, Louis, was a watchmaker,
her mother, who died of cancer when Therese was 4, was a lace maker, and
both have been declared Venerable by the Church. Cured from an illness at
age eight when a statue of the Blessed Virgin smiled at her. Carmelite nun
at age 15. Defined her path to God and holiness as "The Little Way," which
consisted of love and trust in God. At the direction of her spiritual
director, and against her wishes, she dictated her famed autobiography
Story of a Soul. Many miracles attributed to her. Declared a Doctor of
the Church in 1997 by Pope John Paul II.
"For me, prayer is a surge of the heart; it is a simple look turned toward
heaven, it is a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and
joy." - Saint Therese of Lisieux
Born
2 January 1873 at Alcon, Normandy, France
Died
7pm Thursday 30 September 1897 at Lisieux, France of tuberculosis
Canonized
17 May 1925 by Pope Pius XI
Patronage
African missions, AIDS sufferers, air crews, aircraft pilots, Australia,
aviators, Belgian air crews, black missions, bodily ills, diocese of
Fairbanks Alaska, diocese of Fresno California, diocese of Juneau Alaska,
diocese of Pueblo Colorado, florists, flower growers, foreign missions,
France, illness, loss of parents, missionaries, parish missions,
restoration of religious freedom in Russia, Russia, sick people, sickness,
Spanish air crews, tuberculosis
Representation
roses; Discalced Carmelite nun holding a bunch of roses; nun with roses at
her feet
Readings
What beauty? I don't see my beauty at all; I see only the graces I've
received from God. You always misunderstand me; you don't know, then, that
I'm only a little seedling, a little almond.
Saint Therese of Lisieux
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You know well enough that Our Lord does not look so much at the greatness
of our actions, nor even at their difficulty, but at the love with which
we do them.
Saint Therese of Lisieux
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O Jesus, Your little bird is happy to be weak and little. What would
become of it if it were big? Never would it have the boldness to appear in
Your presence, to fall asleep in front of You. Yes, this is still one of
the weaknesses of the little bird: when it wants to fix its gaze upon the
Divine Sun, and when the clouds prevent it from seeing a single ray of
that Sun, in spite of itself, its little eyes close, its little head is
hidden beneath its wing, and the poor little thing falls asleep, believing
all the time that it is fixing its gaze upon its Dear Star. When it
awakens, it doesn’t feel desolate; its little heart is at peace and it
begins once again its work of love. It calls upon the angels and saints
who rise like eagles before the consuming Fire, and since this is the
object of the little bird’s desire the eagles take pity on it, protecting
and defending it, and putting to flight at the same time the vultures who
want to devour it. These vultures are the demons whom the little bird
doesn’t fear, for it is not destined to be their prey but the prey of the
Eagle whom it contemplates in the center of the Sun of Love.
Saint Therese of Lisieux, from Story of a Soul
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Kneeling before the tabernacle, I can think of only one thing to say to
our Lord: "My God, you know that I love You." And I feel that my prayer
does not weary Jesus; knowing my weakness, He is satisfied with my good
will.
Saint Therese of Lisieux
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Our Lord needs from us neither great deeds nor profound thoughts. Neither
intelligence nor talents. He cherishes simplicity.
Saint Therese of Lisieux
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The practice of charity, as I have said, dear Mother [Mother Agnes, i.e.,
her sister Pauline, prioress at the time], was not always so sweet for me,
and to prove it to you I am going to recount certain little struggles
which will certainly make you smile. For a long time at evening
meditation, I was placed in front of a Sister who had a strange habit and
I think many lights because she rarely used a book during meditation. This
is what I noticed: as soon as this Sister arrived, she began making a
strange little noise which resembled the noise one would make when rubbing
two shells, one against the other. I was the only one to notice it because
I had extremely sensitive hearing (too much so at times). Mother, it would
be impossible for me to tell you how much this little noise wearied me. I
had a great desire to turn my head and stare at the culprit who was very
certainly unaware of her "click." This would be the only way of
enlightening her. However, in the bottom of my heart I felt it was much
better to suffer this out of love for God and not to cause the Sister any
pain. I remained calm, therefore, and tried to unite myself to God and to
forget the little noise. Everything was useless. I felt the perspiration
inundate me, and I was obliged simply to make a prayer of doing it without
annoyance and with peace and joy, at least in the interior of my soul. I
tried to love the little noise which was so displeasing; instead of trying
not to hear it (impossible), I paid close attention so as to hear it well,
as though it were a delightful concert, and my prayer (which was not the
Prayer of Quiet) was spent in offering this concert to Jesus.
Saint Therese of Lisieux, from Story of a Soul
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Our Lord does not come down from Heaven every day to lie in a golden
ciborium. He comes to find another heaven which is infinitely dearer to
him - the heaven of our souls, created in His Image, the living temples of
the Adorable Trinity.
Saint Therese of Lisieux
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Since my longing for martyrdom was powerful and unsettling, I turned to
the epistles of Saint Paul in the hope of finally finding an answer. By
chance the twelfth and thirteenth chapters of the first epistle to the
Corinthians caught my attention, and in the first section I read that not
everyone can be an apostle, prophet or teacher, that the Church is
composed of a variety of members, and that the eye cannot be the hand.
Even with such an answer revealed before me, I was not satisfied and did
not find peace.
I persevered in the reading and did not let my mind wander until I found
this encouraging theme: "Set your desires on the greater gifts. And I will
not show you the way which surpasses all others." For the Apostle insists
that the greater gifts are nothing at all without love and that this same
love is surely the best path leading directly to God. At length I had
found peace of mind.
Love appeared to me to be the hinge for my vocation. Indeed, I knew that
the Church had a body composed of various members, but in this body the
necessary and more noble member was not lacking; I knew that the Church
had a heart and that such a heart appeared to be aflame with love. I knew
that one love drove the members of the Church to action, that if this love
were extinguished, the apostles would have proclaimed the Gospel no
longer, the martyrs would have shed their blood no more. I saw and
realized that love sets off the bounds of all vocations, that love is
everything, that this same love embraces every time and every place. In
one word, that love is everlasting.
from the autobiography of Saint Theresa of the Child Jesus
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Above all it's the Gospels that occupy my mind when I'm at prayer; my poor
soul has so many needs, and yet this is the one thing needful. I'm always
finding fresh lights there, hidden and enthralling meanings.
Saint Therese of Lisieux
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Really, I am far from being a saint, and what I have just said is proof of
this; instead of rejoicing, for example, at my aridity, I should attribute
it to my little fervor and lack of fidelity; I should be desolate for
having slept (for seven years) during my hours of prayer and my
thanksgivings after Holy Communion; well, I am not desolate. I remember
that little children are as pleasing to their parents when they are asleep
as well as when they are wide awake; I remember, too, that when they
perform operations, doctors put their patients to sleep. Finally, I
remember that: "The Lord knows our weakness, that he is mindful that we
are but dust and ashes."
Saint Therese of Lisieux, from Story of a Soul
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Jesus set the book of nature before me and I saw that all the flowers he
has created are lovely. The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the
lily do not rob the little violet of its scent nor the daisy of its simple
charm. I realized that if every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring
would lose its loveliness and there would be no wildflowers to make the
meadows gay.
It is just the same in the world of souls - which is the garden of Jesus.
He has created the great saints who are like the lilies and the roses, but
he has also created much lesser saints and they must be content to be the
daisies or the violets which rejoice his eyes whenever he glances down.
Perfection consists in doing his will, in being that which he wants us to
be.
Jesus, help me to simplify my life by learning what you want me to be -
and becoming that person.
Saint Therese of Lisieux, from Story of a Soul
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Oh! no, you will see...it will be like a shower of roses. After my death,
you will go to the mail box, and you will find many consolations.
Saint Therese on 9 June 1897 after Sister Marie of the Sacred Heart told
her we would be very sorry after she died
source:
http://www.catholic-forum.com/saints/saintt02.htm
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