which enveloped us, I could see it suffused by a
soft light, which seemed to emanate from her heavenly countenance.
She caressed me tenderly, and seeing myself the object of such
affection, I made bold to say: "Dear Mother, I entreat you, tell
me, will Our Lord leave me much longer in this world? Will He not
soon come to fetch me?" She smiled sweetly, and answered, "Yes,
soon . . . very soon . . . I promise you." "Dear Mother," I asked
again, "tell me if He does not want more from me than these poor
little acts and desires that I offer Him. Is He pleased with me?"
Then our Venerable Mother's face shone with a new splendour, and
her expression became still more gracious: "The Good God asks no
more of you," she said, "He is pleased, quite pleased," and,
taking my head between her hands, she kissed me so tenderly that
it would be impossible to describe the joy I felt. My heart was
overflowing with gladness, and, remembering my Sisters, I was
about to beseech some favour for them, when, alas! I awoke. My
happiness was too great for words. Many months have passed since I
had this wonderful dream, and yet its memory is as fresh and
delightful as ever. I can still picture the loving smiles of this
holy Carmelite and feel her fond caresses. O Jesus! "Thou didst
command the winds and the storm, and there came a great calm."[10]

On waking, I realised that Heaven does indeed exist, and that this
Heaven is peopled with souls who cherish me as their child, and
this impression still remains with me--all the sweeter, because,
up to that time, I had but little devotion to the Venerable Mother
Anne of Jesus. I had never sought her help, and but rarely heard
her name. And now I know and understand how constantly I was in
her thoughts, and the knowledge adds to my love for her and for
all the dear ones in my Father's Home.

O my Beloved! this was but the prelude of graces yet greater which
Thou didst desire to heap upon me. Let me remind Thee of them
to-day, and forgive my folly if I venture to tell Thee once more
of my hopes, and my heart's well nigh infinite longings--forgive
me and grant my desire, that it may be well with my soul. To be
Thy Spouse, O my Jesus, to be a daughter of Carmel, and by my
union with Thee to be the mother of souls, should not all this
content me? And yet other vocations make themselves felt--I feel
called to the Priesthood and to the Apostolate--I would be a
Martyr, a Doctor of the Church. I should like to