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

by Thérèse of Lisieux

It pleases Him to create great Saints, who may be compared with the lilies or the rose; but He has also created little ones, who must be content to be daisies or violets, nestling at His feet to delight His eyes when He should choose to look at them. The happier they are to be as He wills, the more perfect they are.

That same evening, when the sun appeared to be sinking into the vast stretch of the waters beyond a golden path of light, I went with you to sit upon a lonely rock. I gazed for ages on this path of light, and you said it was an image of the path to Heaven when grace lights up the way. Then I thought of my heart as a tiny ship with white and graceful sails gliding down the middle of a path of gold, and I resolved that I would never sail it out of sight of Jesus, so that it might voyage swiftly and in peace toward the shores of Heaven.

How can a heart that is taken up with human love be fully united to God? I am sure it is not possible. I have seen so many people attracted by this false light, fly to it as moths do and burn their wings, then flutter, wounded, back to Jesus, the Eternal Fire which burns without consuming.

I learned from experience that joy does not reside in the things about us, but in the very depths of the soul, that one can have it in the gloom of a dungeon as well as in the palace of a king.

Prayer, for me, is simply a raising of the heart, a simple glance towards Heaven, an expression of love and gratitude in the midst of trial, as well as in times of joy; in a word, it is something noble and supernatural expanding my soul and uniting it to God.

Love calls to love, and mine longs to fill the abyss of Yours in its flight to You, but it is not even a drop of dew lost in that sea. If I am to love You as You love me, I must borrow Your love; I can find peace no other way.

I am sure that is why the Holy Spirit, long before Jesus was born, inspired this prophetic prayer, “Draw me, we will run.” In asking to be drawn, we are seeking to be closely united to the captivating object of our love. If fire and iron were endowed with reason, and the iron were to say “Draw me,” surely this would prove that it wanted to be so identified with the fire as to share its very substance. This is just what I ask. I want Jesus so to draw me into the flames of His love, so to make me one with Himself that He may live and act in me. I feel that the more the fire of love inflames my heart, the more I shall say, “Draw me,” and the more swiftly those who are around about me will run “in the sweet odor of the Beloved.” We will run, indeed, all of us, for souls on fire with love cannot remain inactive.

If only everyone weak and imperfect like me felt as I do, no one would despair of reaching the heights of love, for Jesus does not ask for glorious deeds. He asks only for self-surrender and for gratitude.