The Story of a Soul | Page 6

1877 its inhabitants little thought that through their new citizen,
Marie Françoise Thérèse Martin, their town would be rendered
immortal.
* * * * * *
"The cell at Lisieux reminds us of the cell of the Blessed Gabriel at
Isola. There is the same even tenor of way, the same magnificant

fidelity in little things, the same flames of divine charity, consuming
but concealed. Nazareth, with the simplicity of its Child, and the calm
abysmal love of Mary and Joseph--Nazareth, adorable but imitable,
gives the key to her spirit, and her Autobiography does but repeat the
lessons of the thirty hidden years."[2]
And it repeats them with an unrivalled charm. "This master of
asceticism," writes a biographer[3] of St. Ignatius Loyola, "loved the
garden and loved the flowers. In the balcony of his study he sat gazing
on the stars: it was then Lainez heard him say: 'Oh, how earth grows
base to me when I look on Heaven!' . . . The like imaginative strain, so
scorned of our petty day, inhered in all the lofty souls of that age. Even
the Saints of our day speak a less radiant language: and sanctity shows
'shorn of its rays' through the black fog of universal utilitarianism, the
materiality which men have drawn into the very lungs of their souls."
This is not true of the sainted authoress of the chapters that follow--
"less radiant," in the medium of a translation. In her own inimitable
pages, as in those of a Campion or an Ignatius, a Teresa of Avila, or a
John of the Cross--the Spirit of Poetry is the handmaiden of Holiness.
This new lover of flowers and student of the stars, this "strewer of
roses," has uplifted a million hearts from the "base earth" and "black
fog" to the very throne of God, and her mission is as yet but begun.
The pen of Soeur Thérèse herself must now take up the narrative. It
will do so in words that do not merely tell of love but set the heart on
fire, and at the same time lay bare the workings of God in a soul that
"since the age of three never refused the Good God anything." The
writing of this Autobiography was an act of obedience, and the Prioress
who imposed the task sought, in all simplicity, her own personal
edification. But the fragrance of its pages was such that she was
advised to publish them to the world. She did so in 1899 under the title
of _L'Histoire d'une Âme._ An English version by M. H. Dziewicki
appeared in 1901.
This new translation relates more fully the story of the childhood,
girlhood, and brief convent days of Soeur Thérèse. It tells of her
"Roses," and sets forth again, in our world-wide tongue, her

world-wide embassy--the ever ancient message of God's Merciful Love,
the ever new way to Him of "confidence and self-surrender."
The Editor. ______________________________
[1] The baptismal entry, with its numerous signatures, is shown to
visitors, and a tablet in the baptistry of the beautiful Gothic church tells
the pilgrim that here the "Little Queen" was made a child of God. [Ed.]
[2] _"As Little Children"_: the abridged life of Soeur Thérèse.
Published at the Orphans' Press, Rochdale.
[3] Francis Thompson.
______________________________
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF SOEUR THÉRÈSE OF LISIEUX,
ENTITLED BY HERSELF: "THE STORY OF THE SPRINGTIME
OF A LITTLE WHITE FLOWER"
______________________________
CHAPTER I
EARLIEST MEMORIES
It is to you, dear Mother, that I am about to confide the story of my soul.
When you asked me to write it, I feared the task might unsettle me, but
since then Our Lord has deigned to make me understand that by simple
obedience I shall please Him best. I begin therefore to sing what must
be my eternal song: "the Mercies of the Lord."[1]
Before setting about my task I knelt before the statue of Our Lady
which had given my family so many proofs of Our Heavenly Mother's
loving care.[2] As I knelt I begged of that dear Mother to guide my
hand, and thus ensure that only what was pleasing to her should find
place here.

Then opening the Gospels, my eyes fell on these words: "Jesus, going
up into a mountain, called unto Him whom He would Himself."[3]
They threw a clear light upon the mystery of my vocation and of my
entire life, and above all upon the favours which Our Lord has granted
to my soul. He does not call those who are worthy, but those whom He
will. As St. Paul says: "God will have mercy on whom He will have
mercy.[4] So then it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth,
but of God that showeth mercy."[5]
I often asked myself why God had preferences, why