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Ms A 03v

[3v°]  the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for thou art with me...”3 To me the Lord has always been “merciful and good, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love” (Ps. 102, v. 8).

It is with great happiness, then, that I come to [5] sing the mercies of the Lord with you, dear Mother. It is for you alone I am writing the story of the little flower gathered by Jesus. I will talk freely and without any worries as to the numerous digressions I will make. A mother’s heart understands her child even when it can but stammer, and so I’m sure of being understood [10] by you, who formed my heart, offering it up to Jesus!

It seems to me that if a little flower could speak, it would tell simply what God has done for it without trying to hide its blessings. It would not say, under the pretext of a false humility, it is not beautiful or without perfume, that the sun has taken away its splendor and the storm [15] has broken its stem when it knows that all this is untrue. The flower about to tell her story rejoices at having to publish the totally gratuitous gifts of Jesus. She knows that nothing in herself was capable of attracting the divine glances, and His mercy alone brought about everything that is good in her.

It was He who had her born in a [20] holy soil, impregnated with a virginal perfume. It was He, too, who has her preceded by eight Lilies of dazzling whiteness. In His love He wished to preserve His little flower from the world’s poisoned breath. Hardly had her petals begun to unfold when this divine Savior transplanted her to Mount Carmel where already two Lilies, who had taken care of her in the springtime of her life, spread

 

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