Saint Therese of Lisieux: A Gateway

During part of the year, it was dark at the hour of silence,and Therese had to write by the light of that little oil lamp.  Writing by hand was not as easy as clicking a ballpoint pen; one had to balance on the little backless bench, dip the pens into an inkwell, avoid spilling the ink, hold the paper still on the writing-case, and write till it was necessary to take more ink.  On July 17, 1896, Marie Guerin wrote to her father in this way:

My dear little Father

I see that I still have time to write you, and I want to do so because I know how much pleasure it gives you to receive something written by your little girl.  It will perhaps be very ugly, indeed, scribbled and quite illegible, but you’ll forgive me; you know that, at Carmel, one is not installed as among princes or among kings, and we have only our knees to use as tables (especially at the beginning of their religious life the Carmelites do not have a writing table; they write sitting on a bench with  the desk on their knees).  The pen is sometimes bad, the ink muddy, but one must use them jup to the very end.  That is how your little girl always acts, and I think you’ll congratulate her, because she must learn to love poverty, since she will soon make the great vow.

(Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux; English translation copyright Maureen O'Riordan).

 Celine reports an incident that shows what a challenge it was to write under these conditions:

“Shortly after my entrance into Carmel . . . . I almost succeeded in upsetting [Therese’s[ equilibrium when our inkwell overturned.  When I saw blotches of ink on our whitewashed wall and all over the floor, I ran to her in distress.  “Come quickly,” I pleaded. 

When she saw me, she could hardly keep from laughing.  True, I was a sight to behold: at the time, I was wearing the large white crepe veil over our postulant’s bonnet.

Smiling sweetly, she said “Don’t worry, everything will be all right.  I must admit,” she added with a twinkle, “that your veil looks like cloth of ink!  But we’ll soon get it back to its original color.” 

Then, without any undue haste, she had everything restored to its normal state in a short time.  I was astonished as I saw how calm she could remain in the face of these unforeseen accidents in life.

(A Memoir of My Sister Saint Therese, pp. 200-201).

Last updated on September 26, 2013 by Maureen O'Riordan