The Autobiography of Thérèse of Lisieux: The Story of a Soul

by Thérèse of Lisieux

The great graces of one’s life, such as one’s vocation, can’t be forgotten. The memory of those graces will avail you more if you confine yourself to going over them in your mind, than if you write them down.”

The whole work was quite spontaneous; we may say that she did not so much write a book as live it, and then it wrote itself. Since

and I saw that every flower He has created has a beauty of its own; that the splendour of the rose and the lily’s whiteness do not deprive the violet of its scent, nor make less ravishing the daisy’s charm. I saw that if every little flower wished to be a rose, nature would lose her Spring adornments, and the fields would be no longer enamelled with their varied flowers.

If a little flower could talk, it seems to me it would say what God has done for it quite simply and without concealment. It would not try to be humble by saying it was unattractive and without scent, that the sun had destroyed its freshness or the wind its stem, when all the time it knew it was quite the opposite.

aim at perfection and forget one’s self.

I had to suffer from childhood. Spring flowers begin to grow beneath the snow before they open to the sun,

My thoughts used to become very deep then, and though I had no idea of what meditation was my soul was really lost in prayer.

I would really listen but I am afraid I kept my eyes on Father far more than on the preacher because I could read such a lot in his noble face. Sometimes his eyes would fill with tears he could not keep back, and when he was listening to the eternal truths he seemed to be already in another world and no longer in this. He was then a long way from his journey’s end, however; long, sad years had yet to pass before he opened his eyes on Heaven’s loveliness and Jesus wiped away His faithful servant’s tears.

there was a great peace deep down in my heart, but only in the depths, for all the rest was bitterness.

One of our older Mothers seemed to understand how I felt, for she said to me in recreation one day: “I don’t suppose you ever have very much to tell your Superiors”. “What makes you think that, Mother?” “Because you have an extremely simple soul; however, it will be even more simple when you become perfect. The closer we come to God, the more simple we become.”

one day realised that my eagerness to take my vows was tainted with self-love.

I should not rejoice in my aridity, but rather consider it as the result of lack of fervour and fidelity, while the fact that I often fall asleep during meditation, or while making my thanksgiving, should appal me. Well, I am not appalled; I bear in mind that little children are just as pleasing to their parents asleep as awake; that doctors put their patients to sleep while they perform operations, and that after all, “the Lord knoweth our frame. He remembereth that we are but dust”.

I was on the brink of despondency, and so great was my darkness that I did not even know whether or not God still loved me.

I desire Him to come for His own pleasure, not for mine.

I learnt by experience that true happiness on earth consists in being forgotten and in remaining completely ignorant of created things. I understood that all we accomplish, however brilliant, is worth nothing without love. Instead of doing me any harm, these gifts lavished upon me by Our Lord unite me even more closely to Him for I realise that He alone is unchangeable, and that He alone can satisfy the multitude of my desires.

One can fall, I know; there may be infidelities, yet Love knows how to turn all things to profit, quickly consuming everything which might displease Jesus and leaving at the bottom of one’s heart nothing but deep and humble peace.

I need not be afraid of praise any more, and can enjoy it in all simplicity, attributing all that is good in me to the goodness of God.

Your arms, My Jesus, are the lift which will take me up to Heaven. There is no need for me to grow up; on the contrary, I must stay little, and become more and more

There are so few people who do not make their own limited understanding the measure of God’s power.

Knowing that even in Carmel there can be separations, I have tried to make Heaven my home even now;

There was at that time a certain nun who managed to irritate me in everything she did. The devil had a part in it, for it was certainly he who made me see all her bad points. Not wishing to give way to natural antipathy, I reminded myself that sentiments of charity were not enough; they must find expression, and I set myself to treat her as if I loved her best of all.

I would rather be corrected a thousand times than correct anyone else once, yet I am convinced that this is as it should be, for if one does it according to one’s natural inclination, the person in the wrong will not recognise it; she will simply say to herself: “The Sister who has to instruct me is annoyed about something, and is venting her vexation on me, though I am full of the best intentions.”

We will run, indeed, all of us, for souls on fire with love cannot remain inactive. Like Mary, they may sit at the feet of Jesus, listening while His gentle words inflame their love, giving Him nothing, so it seems, and yet really giving Him more than a Martha who is anxious about “many things”.

I take refuge in my title, “a little child”. Little children never realise all that their words imply, but if their father or mother were to come to the throne and inherit great riches, loving their little ones more than they love themselves, they would not hesitate to give them everything they want.

we should go to the end of our strength before complaining.

When we surrender to discouragement or despair it is usually because we are thinking too much of the past or the future.