t up my heart to God in trust and love. I feel that even
had I on my conscience every crime one could commit, I should lose
nothing of my confidence: my heart broken with sorrow, I would
throw myself into the Arms of my Saviour. I know that He loves the
Prodigal Son, I have heard His words to St. Mary Magdalen, to the
woman taken in adultery, and to the woman of Samaria. No one could
frighten me, for I know what to believe concerning His Mercy and
His Love. And I know that all that multitude of sins would
disappear in an instant, even as a drop of water cast into a
flaming furnace.

It is told in the Lives of the Fathers of the Desert how one of
them converted a public sinner, whose evil deeds were the scandal
of the whole country. This wicked woman, touched by grace,
followed the Saint into the desert, there to perform rigorous
penance. But on the first night of the journey, before even
reaching the place of her retirement, the bonds that bound her to
earth were broken by the vehemence of her loving sorrow. The holy
man, at the same instant, saw her soul borne by Angels to the
Bosom of God.

This is a striking example of what I want to say, but these things
cannot be expressed. Dearest Mother, if weak and imperfect souls
like mine felt what I feel, none would despair of reaching the
summit of the Mountain of Love, since Jesus does not ask for great
deeds, but only for gratitude and self-surrender.

He says: "I will not take the he-goats from out of the flocks, for
all the beasts of the forests are mine, the cattle on the hills
and the oxen. I know all the fowls of the air. If I were hungry, I
would not tell thee, for the world is Mine, and the fulness
thereof. Shall I eat the flesh of bullocks, or shall I drink the
blood of goats? Offer to God the sacrifice of praise and
thanksgiving."[5]

This is all Our Lord claims from us. He has need of our love--He
has no need of our works. The same God, Who declares that He has
no need to tell us if He be hungry, did not disdain to beg a
little water from the Samaritan woman. He was athirst, but when He
said: "Give me to drink,"[6] He, the Creator of the Universe,
asked for the love of His creature. He thirsted for love.

And this thirst of Our Divine Lord was ever on the increase.
Amongst the disciples of the world, He meets with nothing but
indifference and ingratitude, and alas! among His own, how few
hearts surrender themselves without reserve to the infinite
tendern