s between Papa and Marie. My tears flowed
with inexpressible sweetness; I kept repeating those words of St.
Paul: "I live now, not I; but Christ liveth in me."[5] After this
second visit of Our Lord I longed for nothing else but to receive
Him. Alas! the feasts seemed so far apart. . . .

On the eve of these happy days Marie helped me to prepare, as she
had done for my First Communion. I remember once she spoke of
suffering, and said that in all probability, instead of making me
walk by this road, God, in His goodness, would carry me always
like a little child. Her words came into my mind next day after my
Communion; my heart became inflamed with an ardent desire for
suffering, and I felt convinced that many crosses were in store
for me. Then my soul was flooded with such consolation as I have
never since experienced. Suffering became attractive, and I found
in it charms which held me spellbound, though as yet I did not
appreciate them to the full.

I had one other great wish; it was to love God only, and to find
my joy in Him alone. During my thanksgiving after Holy Communion I
often repeated this passage from the _Imitation of Christ:_ "O my
God, who art unspeakable sweetness, turn for me into bitterness
all the consolations of earth."[6] These words rose to my lips
quite naturally; I said them like a child, who, without well
understanding, repeats what a friend may suggest. Later on I will
tell you, dear Mother, how Our Lord has been pleased to fulfill my
desire, how He, and He alone, has always been my joy; but if I
were to speak of it now I should have to pass on to my girlhood,
and there is still much to tell you of my early days.

Soon after my First Communion I went into retreat again, before
being confirmed. I prepared myself with the greatest care for the
coming of the Holy Ghost; I could not understand anyone not doing
so before receiving this Sacrament of Love. As the ceremony could
not take place on the day fixed, I had the consolation of
remaining somewhat longer in retreat. How happy I felt! Like the
Apostles, I looked with joy for the promised Comforter, gladdened
by the thought that I should soon be a perfect Christan, and have
the holy Cross, the symbol of this wondrous Sacrament, traced upon
my forehead for eternity. I did not feel the mighty wind of the
first Pentecost, but rather the gentle breeze which the prophet
Elias heard on Mount Horeb. On that day I received the gift of
fortitude in suff