Sister Madeleine of the Blessed Sacrament, 1817-1892

Therese finds Sister Madeleine dead 

We left the Lisieux Carmel on Monday evening, January 4, 1892, when Mother Febronie, the subprioress, died, accompanied by Therese and by the infirmarian, Sister Aimee of Jesus.  The next morning, as Celine recorded, the friends of Carmel gathered for the funeral of Sister Saint-Joseph of Jesus, the foundation’s first postulant.  Two mornings later, on Thursday, January 7, Therese discovered that Sister Madeleine of the Blessed Sacrament, the oldest of the Carmel’s four lay-sisters, or, as the French called them, “converse,” had died during the night.  [Lay-sisters did not recite the Divine Office; they recited simpler prayers instead and did more of the community’s heavy domestic work.  They wore white veils].  In Story of a Soul Therese writes:

One morning upon arising I had a presentiment that Sister Magdalene was dead; the dormitory was in darkness, and no one was coming out of the cells. I decided to enter Sister Magdalene’s cell since the door was wide open.[1] I saw her fully dressed and lying across her bed. I didn’t have the least bit of fear. When I saw that she didn’t have a blessed candle, I went to fetch one for her, along with a wreath of roses.[2]

The Carmel has documented that, at one o’clock in the morning (Therese would have arisen several hours later, at 5:45 a.m.), another nun or nuns, who presumably had found Sister Madeleine dead, had washed her body and dressed her for burial, a ceremony known as the “toilette mortuaire.”[3]  (This explains why her body was clothed in the full habit at dawn, when Therese found her).  The name of the nun or nuns who rendered Sister Madeleine this service was not recorded.  Had another sister been  with her at the moment of her death, Mother Gonzague would have described her final moments in her circular, so we can infer that she died during the night; one hopes that she slipped away in her sleep.  Because almost all the other nuns were sick, it was impossible to maintain a vigil of prayer by the dead sister’s body; Therese wrote: “As soon as a Sister breathed her last, we were obliged to leave her alone.”[4]  Sister Saint-Joseph had, at least, the chaplain and Therese with her, perhaps one or two others; Sister Febronie was accompanied by Sister Aimee of Jesus and Therese; but God came for Sister Madeleine like “the Thief,” as Therese later called him.  On discovering Sister Madeleine’s body, Therese, as sacristan, noticed the absence of the Paschal candle it was customary to place near the body of a dead sister and of the wreath of roses the nuns wore on their Clothing, Profession, and jubilee days, as well as after their death, and she supplied them both. Then she went down to the choir for the usual morning prayer in silence, near Sister Febronie’s coffin.  Sister Febronie’s funeral had already been set for the next day, Friday, January 8^th.

Before looking at the death circular and the double funeral, let’s look at Sister Madeleine’s life.  This task is made much harder because, like Sister Saint-Joseph, she had asked that, in her circular, nothing be said about her life.  But what can we glean about the woman who was in the Carmel almost fifty years and lived with Therese for nearly three years?

Desiree Toutain's youth

  Saint Martin de la Lieue: the church and the river, where Louis Martin often fished  Photo credit: Wikipedia

Desiree Toutain was born in the tiny hamlet of Saint-Hippolyte-des-Pres, near Lisieux, on May 27, 1817, the first child of Marc-Frédéric Toutain, 29, of Beuvilliers, a linen worker, and Luce-Victoire-Jacquette, Lepage, widow, 34, of Lisieux, "owner." They are farmers; perhaps the young widow had become the owner of farmland through the death of her first husband.  The extended Toutain family was already well established as textile workers in Beuvillers.  They had kept the faith throughout the French Revolution, and Desiree’s mother had saved the life of a persecuted priest.  In 1821 Desiree’s parents gave her a little brother, Frederick Isidore, who would become the father of one of Therese’s Benedictine schoolteachers, Madame St. Benoit.[5]  Desiree came from a hard-working family; she cannot have had many years of school, for the Carmel’s Chronicle mentions that “Sister Madeleine could barely write.”  When the family faced money troubles, she had to leave her father’s house and go to her brothers in Paris; they hoped to find her a job there.  As soon as she could, she returned to her father’s house, now in Saint-Martin-de-la-Lieue, which had absorbed the small hamlet where she was born.  Like Sister Febronie, who entered four months before her, Desiree had taken Father Sauvage as her spiritual director.  He recognized her vocation.  But, devout as the family was, her father absolutely refused to approve her entering this new monastery, so poor and so austere.  In the end, she ran away from his house just before her 25^th birthday and was received as a postulant by Mother Genevieve, the new prioress, on Pentecost Sunday, May 15, 1842. 

Sister Madeleine of the Blessed Sacrament

Sister Madeleine was made her way with the two other postulants and five novices then in formation.  She received the habit on July 4, 1843 and made profession on July 10, 1844.   Research yields only a little about her 49 years in Carmel.  Unlike Sister Febronie, she did not live quite long enough to celebrate her 50th jubilee, so we can’t deduce anything from any songs written for that occasion.  The foundation’s Chronicle reports that she was as good as gold: 

My Sister Madeleine with her character that was a bit lively made amends with a heart of gold and deep humility. She was so charitable, so good for the sick, not sparing herself when it came to spending the night near them. Such an excellent judgment that even her Prioresses asked for her opinion.[6]

Sister Madeleine as cook: the miracle of the butter

Sister Madeleine served the community as its cook, and the monastery was so poor that she was often hard pressed to feed the nuns.

One day, the cook [Sister Madeleine] came to tell [Mother Genevieve] that the supply of butter was exhausted.  “My child, I haven’t a farthing,” she answered quietly, “but if there is a little butter still left, go on using it, and let us put our trust in God.”  From the moment the prodigy of Elias was repeated, and Sister Madeleine, even more astonished than was the widow of Sarepta at the sight of her inexhaustible pot of flour, came at the end of two months to her Prioress, saying: “Mother, I really can’t understand it; my little piece of butter is always in the same state! What does it mean? I had only enough for two days, and now, however much I use, it never grows less.”  Be at peace,” was the answer, “your little stock is on the point of being finished.”  And, in fact, some days later an alms was given to the Convent and Sister Madeleine found the pot empty.[7]

Click to see a period photo of a corner of the kitchen where Sister Madeleine worked.

Therese’s sister Marie of the Sacred Heart and Sister Madeleine

Therese’s sister Marie of the Sacred Heart, who often helped in the garden, mentions Sister Madeleine twice in letters to her father:

[I am] a very good gardener, whatever Sr. Madeleine says. This evening at recreation, the two of us had such fun (teasing each other). She says I burn my cuttings in the sun. It doesn’t surprise me, for she soaks hers every night in a bucket of cold water to get them to take root, so she finds my method funny.

Well, it was like the story of the two Invalids… do you remember? I said to her: “Sr. Madeleine, I accustom my flowers to hardship, they know me… the strongest survive; my cuttings and I resemble each other, we muddle through, thanks to God.[8]

Again, when Louis had given the monastery one of his frequent gifts of a big catch of fish:

Thank you darling Father! Thank you, thank you! More lovely fish… you lavish us with too many gifts. . . . .

Sr. Madeleine is delighted, she serves us portions worthy of “Mère Fanchon[9]”. It’s really filling! And there are no stocking-sized portions.[10]

Sister Madeleine’s remark: a great grace for Therese

 Therese as a novice, the month before this conversation took place

Sister Madeleine, with a “heart of gold,” looked out especially for the novices, and Pauline reports that, in 1897, Therese recalled a remark Sister Madeleine had made which, juxtaposed with a contrary remark by another lay-sister, impressed Therese deeply and was the occasion of a significant blessing for her.  The conversation took place in February 1889, when Therese was 16.  The “Yellow Notebook” of Sister Agnes of Jesus says that on July 25, 1897 Therese said to Sister Agnes (her sister Pauline):

Listen to this little, very funny story: One day, after I received the Habit, Sister St. Vincent de Paul saw me with Mother Prioress, and she exclaimed: 'Oh! how well she looks! Is this big girl strong! Is she plump!' I left, quite humbled by the compliment, when Sister Magdalene stopped me in front of the kitchen and said: 'But what is becoming of you, poor little Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus! You are fading away before our eyes! If you continue at this pace, with an appearance that makes one tremble, you won't observe the Rule very long!' I couldn't get over hearing, one after the other, two such contrary appraisals. Ever since that moment, I have never attached any importance to the opinion of creatures, and this impression has so developed in me that, at this present time, reproaches and compliments glide over me without leaving the slightest imprint.[11]

“An expression of joy and peace covered the faces” of the dead

As Sister Madeleine was the last sister whom Therese saw in death during the epidemic, let’s look again at Therese’s reaction to the appearance of her sisters after they died:

It was without effort that the dying passed on to a better life, and immediately after their death an expression of joy and peace covered their faces and gave the impression almost that they were only asleep. Surely this was true because, after the image of this world has passed away, they will awaken to enjoy eternally the delights reserved for the Elect.[12]

Seeing this expression three times in six days on the faces of the women with whom she had lived made a deep impression on Therese, then scarcely 19, and confirmed her childhood belief that death was the gateway to eternal joy.  One can hear an echo of what Louis and Zelie often repeated:  “Oh, the Homeland! the Homeland!”

Sister Madeleine’s death circular; the double funeral for her and Sister Febronie on January 8

The funeral Mass for Sister Febronie suddenly became a double funeral for Febronie and Madeleine, who had entered only four months apart in 1842.  The friends of the Carmel were shocked, on arrival, to find two coffins!  By this time almost the whole community was sick in bed.  Only six or seven of the twenty-two surviving nuns were able to attend the funeral, and then at a cost of great effort on their part.  Mother Gonzague, still in the infirmary, wrote the briefest of circulars.

Soul of faith and devotion, We will stop, my Reverend Mother. We are so broken that it would be impossible for us to write of the untiring devotion of this heart, as big as it was generous in the service of God and her mothers and sisters.[13]

I encourage you to visit Sister Madeleine’s circular on the Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux to read the touching words Madeleine herself left as a farewell to her prioress and her sisters.

Mother Gonzague continued:

Our venerable Mother Geneviève seemed to have wanted to call the three eldest of her daughters! If there is rejoicing in Heaven, there is sadness in Carmel!...

What heartbreak for us to see to see this morning coming out of our dear cloister, these two coffins that ourselves were not able to be around, being detained in the infirmary.[14]

She signed herself “from death’s garden.” 

Click to see the enclosure door, through which the two coffins were carried that morning.

Sister Madeleine of the Blessed Sacrament was the last of the three elders God called during the influenza epidemic.  The sick nuns began to recover slowly.  In Part 7, we will look at Therese’s experience of the Eucharist during the epidemic.

[1] The Carmelites usually did not enter another nun’s cell.

[2] Story of a Soul, 3^rd ed., tr. John Clarke, O.C.D.  Washington, D.C.: Washington Province of Discalced Carmelite Friars, 1996, p. 171.

[3] Biographie de Soeur Madeleine, Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux at http://www.archives-carmel-lisieux.fr/carmel/index.php/les-bonnes-vieilles/madelein-du-st-sacrement/biographie, accessed 6/7/2020.

[4] Story of a Soul, op. cit., p. 171.

[5] On Tuesday, January 5, after the funeral Mass of Sister Saint-Joseph, Celine Martin wrote to her cousin Jeanne LaNeele:  “There are still two of the three sick ones whom they despair of saving, among them Sister Madeleine, aunt of Madame St. Benoît at the Abbey, and another religious whom I do not know.”  [Celine must have been referring to the most severely ill when she says ‘three,” for 13 sisters were already ill as of December 31].  This letter is on the Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux at http://archives-carmel-lisieux.fr/english/carmel/index.php/celine-martin-soeur-genevieve/2809-de-celine-a-jeanne-la-neele-5-janvier-1892, accessed 6/5/2020.

[6] See the appendix to Sister Madeleine’s obituary circular at http://archives-carmel-lisieux.fr/english/carmel/index.php/les-bonnes-vieilles/madelein-du-st-sacrement/circulaire-de-madeleine-du-st-sacrement, accessed 6/9/2020.

[7] The Foundation of the Carmel of Lisieux and the Reverend Mother Genevieve of St.Teresa, tr. by a Religious of the Society of the Holy Child Jesus. Calvados, France: Carmel of Lisieux; London, St. Anselm Society; Philadelphia, Pa., Carmelite Convent, 1913, pp. 88-89.

[8] Letter of Sister Marie of the Sacred Heart to her father, Louis Martin, August 23, 1887 at http://www.archives-carmel-lisieux.fr/english/carmel/index.php/aout-1887/5143-de-marie-marie-du-sacre-coeur-a-son-pere-m-martin-23-aout-1887, accessed 6/7/2020.

[9] I believe this is a literary allusion, perhaps to a story they’d read at Les Buissonnets.

[10] Letter of Sister Marie of the Sacred Heart to her father, M. Martin, second half of 1887 at http://www.archives-carmel-lisieux.fr/english/carmel/index.php/marie-martin-marie-du-sacree-coeur-msc/5070-de-marie-marie-du-sacre-coeur-a-son-pere-m-martin-deuxieme-semestre-1887, accessed 6/7/2020.

[11] St. Therese of Lisieux: Her Last Conversations, tr. John Clarke, O.C.D. Washington, D.C.: Washington Province of Discalced Carmelites, Inc., 1977, pp. 111-112.

[12] Story of a Soul, op. cit., p. 172.  Note that, although the Clarke translation writes that the expressions of the dead women gave the impression “almost that they were only asleep,” the French reads “on aurait dit un douce sommeil,” that is, gave the impression of “a sweet sleep” (our italics).

[13] Circular of Sister Madeleine of the Blessed Sacrament, Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux, http://www.archives-carmel-lisieux.fr/english/carmel/index.php/les-bonnes-vieilles/madelein-du-st-sacrement/circulaire-de-madeleine-du-st-sacrement, accessed 6/7/2020.

 [14] Ibid.