estowed on you without any merit on your part."

Without any merit on my part! That was not difficult to believe.
Fully conscious of my weakness and imperfection, my heart
overflowed with gratitude. I had distressed myself, fearing I
might have stained my baptismal robe, and this assurance, coming
as it did from the lips of a director, a man of wisdom and
holiness, such as our Mother St. Teresa desired, seemed to come
from God Himself. Father Pichon added: "May Our Lord always be
your Superior and your Novice Master!" And indeed He ever was, and
likewise my Director. In saying this I do not mean to imply that I
was not communicative with my superiors; far from being reserved,
I always tried to be as an open book.

Our Mistress was a true saint, the perfect type of the first
Carmelites, and I seldom left her side, for she had to teach me
how to work. Her kindness was beyond words, I loved and
appreciated her, and yet my soul did not expand. I could not
explain myself, words failed me, and so the time of spiritual
direction became a veritable martyrdom.

One of the older nuns seemed to understand what I felt, for she
once said to me during recreation: "I should think, child, you
have not much to tell your superiors." "Why do you think that,
dear Mother?" I asked. "Because your soul is very simple; but when
you are perfect you will become more simple still. The nearer one
approaches God, the simpler one becomes."

This good Mother was right. Nevertheless the great difficulty I
found in opening my heart, though it came from simplicity, was a
genuine trial. Now, however, without having lost my simplicity, I
am able to express my thoughts with the greatest ease.

I have already said that Our Lord Himself had acted as my
Spiritual Guide. Hardly had Father Pichon become my director when
his Superiors sent him to Canada. I was only able to hear from him
once in the year, so now the Little Flower which had been
transplanted to the mountain of Carmel quickly turned to the
Director of Directors, and unfolded itself under the shadow of His
Cross, having for refreshing dew His Tears, His Precious Blood,
and for radiant sun His Adorable Face.

Until then I had not appreciated the beauties of the Holy Face; it
was my dear Mother, Agnes of Jesus, who unveiled them to me. As
she had been the first of her sisters to enter the Carmel, so she
was the first to penetrate the mysteries of love hidden in the
Face of Our Divine Spouse.