Saint Thérèse de Lisieux or Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, born Marie-Françoise-Thérèse Martin, was a French Carmelite nun. She is also known as "The Little Flower of Jesus". She was canonized by the Roman Catholic Church May 17, 1925.
She felt an early call to religious life, and overcoming various obstacles, in 1888 at the early age of 15, became a nun and joined two of her older sisters in the enclosed Carmelite community of Lisieux, Normandy. After nine years as a Carmelite religious, having fulfilled various offices, such as sacristan and novice mistress, and having spent the last eighteen months in Carmel in a night of faith, she died of tuberculosis at the age of 24. The impact of her posthumous publications, including her memoir The Story of a Soul was great, and she rapidly became one of the most popular saints of the twentieth century. Pope Pius XI made her the star of his pontificate. She was beatified in 1923, and canonized in 1925. The speed of this process may be seen by comparison with that applied to a great heroine of Thérèse, Joan of Arc, who died in 1431 but was not canonized until 1920. Thérèse was declared co-patron of the missions with Francis Xavier in 1927, and named co-patron of France with Joan of Arc in 1944. On 19 October 1997 Pope John Paul II declared her the thirty-third Doctor of the Church, the youngest of all Doctors of the Church, and only the third woman Doctor. Devotion to Thérèse has developed around the world.
Thérèse lived a hidden life and 'wanted to be unknown' yet through her writings—as well as her spiritual autobiography she left letters, poems, religious plays, prayers and various notes, and her last conversations were recorded by her sisters—and thanks to the photographs taken inside the Lisieux Carmel by her sister Céline, she became known to, and later seen by, millions of men and women. According to one of her biographers, Guy Gaucher, after her death, "Thérèse fell victim to an excess of sentimental devotion which betrayed her. She was victim also to her language, which was that of the late nineteenth century and flowed from the religiosity of her age." Thérèsè herself said on her death-bed : "I only love simplicity. I have a horror of pretence", and she spoke out against some of the Lives of saints written in her day :" We should not say improbable things, or things we do not know. We must see their real, and not their imagined lives." The critic Marina Warner observed that the excesses sometimes associated with her cult should not blind one to the heroism of her, "struggle to be good, and the radical affirmation of ordinary lives that her sainthood stands for."
The depth of her spirituality, of which she said "my way is all confidence and love," has inspired many believers. In the face of her littleness and nothingness, she trusted in God to be her sanctity. She wanted to go to Heaven by an entirely new little way. "I wanted to find an elevator that would raise me to Jesus." The elevator, she wrote, would be the arms of Jesus lifting her in all her littleness.
The Basilica of Lisieux is the second greatest place of pilgrimage in France after Lourdes.
For many years, this has been what the French call my "livre de chevet"--the book you keep on your night table to dip into at odd moments of rest, when you need a comfort read. Outside the Bible, I can honestly say this is the book that I turn to the most for what Therese herself calls a "spiritual bouquet"--a thought for the day or night, a voice of comfort in times of trouble. I count Therese de Lisieux among my spiritual friends.
"It's true, I suffer a great deal--but do I suffer well? That is the question." Her attitude toward her own enormous physical and spiritual sufferings brought on by tuberculosis and other secondary problems (such as intestinal blockage, with fears of gangrene),at a time when medical "treatment" for TB was often a token gesture, was a shining example to me during the three years I suffered from terrible chronic pain that few of those around me acknowledged to be real. Fortunately for me, the source was identified and treated; Therese was not so lucky. But I learned firsthand how constant, unrelieved pain can eat away at our reserves and cause us to react to the slightest touch (physical or verbal) as to a whip's lash. When the Christian community I had attended for many years fell apart due to apathy on the part of many members, I clung to two books--the Bible first, and the Last Conversations second.
Invaluable on the little path of confidence to holiness. What a gift to have so many of her last words preserved for us to meditate on and imitate their sentiments.
A must read for anyone who claims any affinity for or devotion to St. Therese. You don't know the Little Flower until walk with her through the dark night of the soul. She is truly the spiritual daughter of St. John of the Cross.
A beautiful testament to the beauty, humility and profound holiness of this most wonderful servant of Jesus Christ. By her own words we can know and imitate her love.
I love St. Thérèse, so there was no chance I wasn't going to like this book. You definitely see a different side of her here as she's dying than you do with Story of a Soul, especially her total embrace of suffering. I was also really happy to discover that she seems to have loved puns. (Some of them even work in English!) My one criticism of the book would have to be for editors; sometimes they'll give an isolated quotation from Thérèse without really giving much context for it. They do point out in the beginning that a popular edition like this was never going to include all of her recorded conversations from her final months (which is totally fine, since there's probably a lot of mundane material that they decided to omit), but I did find myself wishing they had given us a bit more than they did here. Still, this was definitely a good book, and I highly recommend it to anyone who really wants to understand St. Thérèse's spirituality.
I’ve read this before but something told me to pick it up again and oh gosh her final words available for us the read and ponder with are so powerful.
It’s a book that I think I will always keep near particularly within my own journey and season with suffering as it brings me to understanding these words in my own life “I do suffer a great deal, but do I suffer well”.
A wonderful book detailing the declining health and last conversations of St. Therese of Lisieux as recorded by her sisters. The book is very powerful and brought me to tears on a few occasions, especially when reading about her last dying moments. This book gave me a new perspective and love for St. Therese of Lisieux. This book as well as the Poetry of St. Therese od Lisieux are excellent companions to her autobiography Story of a Soul.
I love St. Therese. She's probably my favourite saint, so I love reading anything about her. It's quite repetitive little conversations, especially near the end but because she's my favourite saint so I really enjoyed hearing her different conversations with people. If you're a fan of her you'll love this book.