unique occurrence increased my confidence
in Our Lord, and showed me clearly that He had already set His
seal on my sister's brow.

On July 29, 1894, God called my saintly and much-tried Father to
Himself. For the last two years of his life he was completely
paralysed; so my uncle took him into his house and surrounded him
with the tenderest care. He became quite helpless and was only
able to visit us once during the whole course of his illness. It
was a sad interview. At the moment of parting, as we said
good-bye, he raised his eyes, and pointing upwards said in a voice
full of tears: "In Heaven!"

Now that he was with God, the last ties which kept his consoling
Angel in the world were broken. Angels do not remain on this
earth; when they have accomplished their mission, they return
instantly to Heaven. That is why they have wings. Celine tried
therefore to fly to the Carmel; but the obstacles seemed
insurmountable. One day, when matters were going from bad to
worse, I said to Our Lord after Holy Communion: "Thou knowest,
dear Jesus, how earnestly I have desired that the trials my Father
endured should serve as his purgatory. I long to know if my wish
is granted. I do not ask Thee to speak to me, I only want a sign.
Thou knowest how much opposed is Sister N. to Celine's entering;
if she withdraw her opposition, I shall regard it as an answer
from Thee, and in this way I shall know that my Father went
straight to Heaven."

God, Who holds in His Hand the hearts of His creatures, and
inclines them as He will, deigned in His infinite mercy and
ineffable condescension to change that Sister's mind. She was the
first person I met after my thanksgiving, and, with tears in her
eyes, she spoke of Celine's entrance, which she now ardently
desired. Shortly afterwards the Bishop set every obstacle aside,
and then you were able, dear Mother, without any hesitation, to
open our doors to the poor little exile.[6]

Now I have no desire left, unless it be to love Jesus even unto
folly! It is Love alone that draws me. I no longer wish either for
suffering or death, yet both are precious to me. Long did I call
upon them as the messengers of joy. I have suffered much, and I
have thought my barque near indeed to the Everlasting Shore. From
earliest childhood I have imagined that the Little Flower would be
gathered in its springtime; now, the spirit of self-abandonment
alone is my guide. I have no other compass, and know not how to