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Ms A 17v

[17v°] ray of sunshine.

I wasn’t too disturbed at being looked at by people. I listened attentively to the sermons which I understood very poorly. The first I did understand and which touched me deeply was a sermon on the Passion preached by Father Ducellier and since then I’ve [5] understood all the others. When the preacher spoke about St. Teresa, Papa leaned over and whispered: “Listen carefully, little Queen, he’s talking about your Patroness.” I did listen carefully, but I looked more frequently at Papa than at the preacher, for his handsome face said so much to me! His eyes, at times, were filled with tears which he tried in vain to [10] stop; he seemed no longer held by earth, so much did his soul love to lose itself in the eternal truths. His earthly course, however, was far from completed; long years had to pass by before heaven opened to his enraptured eyes and the Lord would wipe the tears from the eyes of His good and faithful servant!

[15] I return once more to my Sundays. This joyous day, passing all too quickly, had its tinge of melancholy. I remember how my happiness was unmixed until Compline.39 During this prayer, I would begin thinking that the day of rest was coming to an end, that the morrow would bring with it the necessity of beginning life over again, we would have to go back [20] to work, to learning lessons, etc., and my heart felt the exile of this earth. I longed for the everlasting repose of heaven, that never-ending Sunday of the Fatherland!

The walks we took on Sundays before returning to Les Buissonnets left a feeling of sadness in my soul, for then the family was not complete. Papa, to please Uncle, used to permit Marie or Pauline to spend Sunday evenings at his home;

 

 

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