The Story of a Soul: The Autobiography of the Little Flower (with Supplemental Reading: Classics Made Simple) [Illustrated]

by Thérèse of Lisieux

At Uncle’s house, Marie and I often used to pretend we were penitent anchorites with nothing but a poor hovel, a tiny cornfield and a garden for a few vegetables. Our life was spent in continual contemplation, or rather one of us used to pray while the other was busy with more material things. We did everything silently, in perfect harmony with each other, and we behaved as good religious should. When we went out for a walk, we kept up this game, even in the street. The two hermits would say the Rosary, but on their fingers, so that they should not betray their devotions in public, but one day, Thérèse the recluse forgot. She had been given a cake for her lunch, and before eating it, she made a big Sign of the Cross; some of the more worldly could not help smiling. Sometimes we went too far in trying to copy each other. One evening, coming home from the Abbey, we tried to imitate the modesty of hermits. I said to Marie: “You lead me, I am going to shut my eyes.” “I want to shut mine too,” she replied, so we both did what we wanted to. As we were walking on the pavement, we did not have to worry about the traffic, but after a few minutes, thoroughly enjoying walking with closed eyes, the two scatterbrains fell over some packing-cases standing at the door of a shop and knocked them over. The shopkeeper was very cross and rushed out at once to rescue his goods. The would-be blind picked themselves up and hurried off with their eyes and ears wide open to get a well-deserved sc...