Print

Circular of Sr Aimée of Jesus of the Heart of Mary

 

Léopoldine-Marie Cécile Feron   1852-1930

circular-keys

Peace and very humble greetings in Our Lord, who during the time dedicated to his holy childhood, the day after his Epiphany, took from this world to mercifully appear in her soul, we have the sweet confidence, our very dear Sister Marie-Léopoldine, AIMÉE OF JESUS OF THE HEART OF MARY. She was 79 years old minus 17 days, and had spent 58 years, 3 months and 25 days in the holy religion of Carmel.

Our dear Sister was born in Anneville-en-Saire, in the Manche, to very Christian parents, wealthy famers. She was the second in a family of 7 children. From her earliest age, Léopoldine thought of becoming a religious and even a Carmelite because her mother had a relative in the English Carmel of Valognes, broken up since the war of 1870. In regards to this relative and the Carmelite vocation, having heard criticism, she had a vigilant interest on this topic and thought: “Well, as for me, in spite of all they say, one day I will imitate my cousin.”

     She then began to read The Life of the Saints and seeing the tortures inflicted on the martyrs, she said to herself: “I’m going to try martyrdom to see if I have the strength to shout until the end “I am a Christian!” And then she took a pocket knife and completely ripped off a toe nail!

Around age 11 she underwent a terrible time of revolt against maternal authority. It was like I was possessed by the demon of disobedience, she confided in us. I can still hear my poor mother saying to me, “If you continue, you will be the disgrace of the family. To this I replied abruptly,” Have no fears about my future, I won’t disgrace you at all because I will be a religious.” From this day onward I gained so much control of myself that I softened and my mother forgot my bad past.

Three years later, our adolescent entered the Notre-Dame de Saint-Pierre-Church boarding school. She certainly was gifted enough to succeed in study with her taste for looking deeper, of analyzing, to get to the bottom of things. But her plan     to be later a converse sister in a Carmel and the fear of requiring a useless expense for her parents, kept her from staying long enough in boarding school. She told us, “ I only wanted to stay long enough to learn what is needed to know to be enough in Community. How much I regretted this afterwards!”

The young girl’s director had been the chaplain of the Carmel of Saigon from the foundation of this monastery through Lisieux. Returned to France to restore his health, he offered his penitent once she reached the age of 20 to our Venerable Founder, the Reverend Mother Geneviève of Saint Teresa. “I was really lucky, “our sister exclaimed, ”that the Carmel of Lisieux was emptied by the foundations of Saigon and Caen. Without that I would never have been received, especially as choir sister since my director did not want to offer me as white veil sister and I had to sacrifice what I was drawn to. Never the less, her brothers who had learned of her resolution to be a Carmelite often teased her about the penances practiced in an austere order, assuring her that she couldn’t bear them. To which she proudly replied: “If I can’t stay where I want to go be assured I won’t try a second time.”

“Shortly after this declaration, my pride was really subdued,” said our dear Sister. Indeed, her director who had himself a desire to become a Carthusian monk, advised her to abandon her project of Carmel to go to the Charterhouse of X where she spent 3 weeks, never ceasing to weep night and day. So it was that in spite of the declarations made to her brothers, she left this convent to enter Carmel.

On October 11th, 1871, the Reverend Mother Geneviève of Saint Teresa opened the doors of our Monastery to the young postulant in her twenty-first year. She gave her the holy habit during Ordinary Time and received her vows on May 8th, 1873. Gifted with a very robust disposition, our devout sister followed with Rule with great generosity. Be that as it may, the fast was extremely painful for her. How many times did the mornings seem interminable to her, so much did she suffer from hunger. But she was hard on herself and was happy to do penance for sinners.

Our dear Sister Aimée of Jesus had a very complex nature that was difficult to understand. She hid real qualities of heart and a deep piety under a kind of harshness of style that discomfited at first sight. And besides, it must be said, she lacked scope, got lost in minutiae and complicated everything for pleasure.

Believe us, no Superior, no Director was able to understand this soul in depth despite long interviews and folios that she had given to them when necessary during the first years of her religious life. One of them who saw her real virtues, said, “This good sister, the more she speaks, explains herself, the less we understand her.”

The duty of the breviary terrified her above all and for a long time. She confided to us again: “I was not able to resign myself to reciting such long prayers in Latin without understanding the meaning. Finally, after 10 years the good God took pity on me and after a retreat given by a Jesuit father I saw the beauty of the liturgical prayers. I put all my focus on being nourishing my soul with them, reading and rereading the translation of the Divine Office in French in such a way that it wasn’t long before understanding all. The hymns especially delighted me; the antiphons, responses, verses, all was etched in my memory which is good, and this important point was a weight off my mind for the rest of my mind.

“The good God is admirable in his saints, “she added. “I often noted this when reading their legends in the breviary…” Of these legends, she indeed knew the slightest details. One of them had inspired in her this naïve prayer, written in pencil on the back of an envelope and which we just found at the front of a Latin-French psalter she was using:

“Saint Anthony, you who received the gift of learning all the sciences without any master, be my protector in the study I am undertaking of the psalter and breviary. Please develop my intelligence and fill my memory with holy thoughts that I find in one or another of these sublime books so that my soul might glorify the Lord night and day in this holy activity that makes me so happy here below. It is in this clear spring that I drown all my sorrows.”

Something remarkable: our humble Sister, by dint of research and relentless studies understood not only the Office but also knew the rubrics so perfectly that the Sub-prioress resorted to her advice in difficult cases and could follow it without fear of being mistaken.

The recitation of the breviary was not the only point that cost her a lot of effort, my Reverend Mother. There was also her incapacity for needle work. Without a doubt, she was useful in making altar breads, in incense and other obediences of this kind; but she constantly found occasions to regret her refusal to be educated and to only have wanted to learn housework and farm work.

“What humiliations I went through!” repeated our poor Sister in her old age. When I saw the first year my companions in the novitiate, very skilled embroiderers, offer such beautiful things to Mother Geneviève for her feast and my own present consisted of an ugly tunic and worse, very poorly sewn, how disgraceful!”

After her profession, we gave her as an assistant to the first infirmarian, Sister Adélaïde of Providence, assigned at the same time to the Office of the Relics. Thus she learned to care for the sick and in her free time to work on ribet, gilded cardboard ornamentation for reliquaries that was popular at the time.

In 1881 with the death of Sister Adélaïde to whom she owed so much gratitude and who she considered, rightly so, to be a saint, she continued to fulfill to the satisfaction of her mother prioresses.

It was in the arms of our devoted sister that the venerable Mother Geneviève of Saint Teresa died. She had become blind and continually asked for her charitable nurse when she didn’t hear her anymore. During her painful death throes several minutes before dying, she called her again in a gentle tone and said to her, “My Sister Aimée of Jesus, how one must suffer to die!” This dear sister remained as first infirmarian until 1896, the time when the duty of the tour was entrusted to her, in place of Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus who stopped because of illness. Three years after she was called back to the infirmary to remain there until 1908. From then on until the end of her life, she devoted herself to the job of third party to the depository, rendering her service with woodworking and other tasks. She worked mainly in the linen room. There, as elsewhere, our good Sister Aimée brought her great and generous good will but also her entire originality. Scarcely being able to succeed with sewing, she undertook as her hardest work the laundry, such as the drying and the care of the linens, especially the toques and veils of the novices that she delivered to the Community, so well done, so well prepared to be finally folded, that the work was three quarters done. She went to an extreme amount of trouble to combine a thousand ways to manage it well, as she said. As for her marvelous discoveries, she would have liked to have her assistants adopt them as well. There were certainly excellent ones but no one could reasonably take on so many complications.

If she noticed a rust spot on the linen, she needed to find the reason and we saw her check all the rings of the cistern, the smallest nails of the laundry room, the saw horses and the attics, where she spent all day in any weather to paint them or cover them over entirely.

“Poor Sister Aimée of Jesus!” we said to her one day when she was especially tired, “you are going to too much trouble. Never would a laundress after you do what you have done.-That’s too bad, my Mother, she sighed (with a tune that was known to us but with a booming voice that was almost gloomy) and above all when there are no more attics. We’re too cramped; a bigger attic needs to be built. That would simplify everything.”

This history of attics and laundry was pleasantly brought up to our valiant sister at the time of her jubilee in the verses that we sang to her then. She laughed good-heartedly but was never convinced that it was not of capital importance to pass on from age to age for posterity her many discoveries for hanging and drying the linens; especially of having a new and very spacious attic that was arranged according to her tastes.

Sometime before the Beatification Process of our Saint, this dear sister came to say to us, “My Mother, I feel compassion for the sisters who have to prepare their depositions. Would you allow me to excuse them from coming to help me at laundry time? This would be my way of taking part in the work of the Process.”

This was praiseworthy as the glorification of Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus seemed, for a start, like a mystery. “If we took care of Mother Geneviève, Sister Adélaïde, I would that,” she said, “but my Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus! Why not leave her hidden in Heaven with the Innocents? What did she do to be anything else? We even heard her say one day to her companion from profession who shared her views, “It is because of the instigation of her sisters that we owe that, I don’t doubt….Just wait; truth will see the light of day certainly.”

But, in the meantime, her suffering was great, increased, it must be said, by certain harmful influences which acted upon our poor Sister to torture her even more. Not only on this subject but for other reasons as well. And she wept abundant tears, even in Community where they fell bitterly and in silence.

“I would willingly speak of that time in my life,” our poor sister confided in us several months ago, “it would be to my embarrassment; but this is impossible for me because I would have to betray certain confidences and it would be gravely lacking in charity.”

Sister Aimée of Jesus was also called as a witness, to her great surprise and pride, for the Beatification Process as “contestis”, that is to say, witness to the compulsory witnesses designated by the Postulator. The Promoter of the Faith desired to hear her because he had known of her former hostility. But as what preceded this might make you believe, my Reverend Mother, when the truth was known, desired by sincere hearts, shown in the just soul of our dear daughter, when she understood, even before the beginning of the Process, the designs of God, she was one of the most enthusiastic, the most zealous to assist through prayer and sacrifice.

She had already helped, unbeknownst to her, during the time of Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus. Doesn’t she speak of the sign she asked God for in the Story of her soul, to see if her father went straight to Heaven? It’s our good sister who gave her this sign….

The opposition she had shown to the entrance of Sister Geneviève of the Holy Face was intransigent indeed, but the reasons were not unkind. If she feared the influence of four sisters gathered together, she feared above all the talents of Sister Geneviève: “Artists were not needed in the Community, one should only aim for the practical and to have good infirmarians, dress makers, laundresses, etc…and nothing else. It was because of these artistic tastes and wasting of time that flowers were planted in the inner courtyard “instead of planting potatoes there”, she sighed looking at the rose bushes that encircled the Calvary. However our Saint, so prudent and so wise, paid no attention to many things that were less than favorable in regards to her…even had sympathy for Sister Aimée of Jesus.

“I agree that the outside is harsh,” she told us, “but I assure you the fruit is excellent. The good God does not judge as we do according to appearances.”

And, having us notice how much this dear sister was devout, courageous and forgetful of self: “Her name suits her very well because she really is AIMÉE de Jesus (loved by Jesus). Besides, she is of good faith, she acts according to her lights. In her place, with the only information that she has, to assess the situations that present themselves, we would perhaps do as she does. As well, those who contradict us are precious because they give us occasions to try our patience, our confidence in God, our fraternal charity. It was the Philistine people that the Lord in the past allowed to live not far from the tents of Israel so as to not allow his people to slumber in a fruitless rest.

In the last days of September 1897 when the weakness of the Saint did not allow her to move, it became necessary to place her a few moments on a temporary bed, to make her sick bed. Seeing the predicament of the nurses who feared hurting her, she said: “I believe my Sister Aimée of Jesus could carry me easily in her arms; she is big and strong and very gentle with the sick.”

They then called our good sister, who picked up the dear little sick person as a light weight without giving her the slightest jolt. At that moment with the arms placed around her neck, this angel thanked her with such a smile of affectionate gratitude that she would never forget this perfect smile. It even became for her a compensation for her regrets of being the only one who didn’t hear the infirmary bell that convoked the sisters at the final moment of the most beautiful death ever seen in the Carmel of Lisieux.

The happiness of our dear daughter during the last 20 years of her life was to hear “my Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus” spoken of. It was like that that she was moved to want to always call her during the beginnings of her reputation of holiness. But little by little, that was finished like her protests to her brothers; and her very liberal evolution only seemed more charming.

She was saying then the last several years: “Are there still as many pilgrimages to our Holy little Thérèse? What are the new proofs of her power over the Heart of the good God?”

“I too would like to work for our incomparable Saint. I have thought we could do something with her straw mattress. If I tried to take only a few straws which I would glue tiny pieces on a colored holy card of our little dying Thérèse?...If I at opened her mail?”

The two permissions were very willingly granted to her. She spent more than an hour each day opening the letters with care and discretion. Two times each day at a set time she humbly knocked at our door and if the mail wasn’t there or if we hadn’t had time to verify the addresses and to do a preliminary sorting, she said while backing out of our office: “Will you permit me to stay here, my Mother, or do you want me to go sit, while waiting, on the stairs?”

As for the picture souvenirs coming from her poor hands deformed by gout, the perfectly finished product was remarkable. She did not suffer the least spot of glue, the least irregularity in the stitch that attached the blade of straw, chosen and cut from amongst the most golden.

We have found since the death of our dear Sister a little box on which she had written in big letters: “Very beautiful pictures destined for my Mothers and Sisters.” Indeed, this box contained two dozen pictures which were a perfection of work and the last that she had made.”

Nevertheless, we had to recognize, there as well as other places, the trademark that we had gotten our perfect but original worker used to. One summer day in 1928 during recreation as our Sisters congratulated her on working so well despite her bad eyesight she made a semi-serious, semi-laughing comment to them that was unexpected: “It would be impossible if I had not found a practical way to get myself out of it. Well, at daybreak when it was bright, I sat at our window and I threaded sixty needles from my ball of silk thread, in a ray of the rising sun.”

The good health of our beloved sister changed three years ago. Toward the end of February 1927 she began to suffer from anthrax and several surgical operations had to be done. The poor patient allowed it like a lamb without a complaint. “How courageous this sister is!” exclaimed the Doctor when leaving. And when in town, he said to several persons: “We only see that in Carmel, I am deeply edified.”

After one of these painful operations, we asked Sister Aimée of Jesus for which intention she offered her suffering. “My Mother,” she said to us without hesitation, “So that the necessary resources for the construction of the Basilica are never lacking.”

If we were touched to tears, my Reverend Mother, hearing these words; what then were the feelings of Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus faced with a proclamation so heroic and disinterested? The following fact proves that she did not allow herself to be outdone in generosity.

One morning the dear sick person welcomed us mysteriously but with joy in her eyes. She had something to tell us and it was necessary first of all to close the door of the infirmary, then for us to come close to her bed and listen in silence.

“This night I had a beautiful vision,” she told us literally. And it wasn’t a dream…You know me, my Mother, I wouldn’t mistake a dream for a vision. Here it is: last night not being able to sleep because of pain from my wound I prayed to our holy little Thésèse to obtain a little sleep for me. Never did I ask her that before. Immediately I fell asleep and this morning when I usually take a remedy I was awakened by a beautiful and strong voice. Then I saw a Carmelite the size of our saint but she was blanketed in a cloud so that I couldn’t distinguish her features. She said to me, “Well, there you are all rested!” Then she disappeared, leaving me with a great interior consolation.”

Another time she said to us spontaneously, “My Mother, during this illness I never cease to put wheat in the granary of the Heavenly Father and it’s our saint who bundles the sheaves. She helps me.” “What do you mean by this wheat,” we asked her. “But you must guess it, my Mother. I mean souls.” We spoke again: “It’s something else, isn’t it, than drying laundry in our attics?” She replied sharply, “No, my Mother, it’s not at all something else. That is what I was doing carrying the washing up to the attics and caring for it as best as I could.”

Her harsh nature hid real delicacies of piety and love for Our Lord. “When I made the Way of the Cross,” she confided in us, “I stopped longer at the station where Jesus is nailed to the Cross, I sympathized with him and I asked him to save graces that he earned for me during that hour of his Passion for the moment, like today, when I am no longer self-sufficient.”

Against all odds, our good Sister Aimée of Jesus triumphed over that illness and sometime later, developed pneumonia with a high fever that put her at death’s door.

For her first outing, still very weak, she wanted to live the new life that was returned to her, to go “greet” (this was her expression) the Little Jesus of the cloister, the Blessed Virgin found facing him, and her Little Thérése. “Later,” she said to us, “when they take me up to the cemetery I will be very happy to be able to greet her passing by her Basilica because she’ll be along my way.” That evening, seeing that she could accomplish her pious pilgrimage without failing, she told us resolutely, “All the same, it’s time to remember that we are in Lent and not allow me to be cared for like a very sick person. I beg you, my Mother, to give orders to my infirmarian regarding that.”

Our dear Sister, little by little regained her surprising activity. Did we not see her take up her usual work of laundry, assuming again the most difficult part in the laundry room with the white veil sisters, this until the last week of her life.

Since then because of her eyesight that was always weakening, she had to make a lot of sacrifices.

In choir where she had been so diligent until then, still fulfilled when it was her turn the obediences of the week-even though her jubilee was several years ago. We almost never saw her there except for September 30th, at the feast of Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus. How touching it was to hear our honored Doyenne piously read the 6th lesson of Matins. She had learned it almost by heart in order to not make a mistake. As well, all of that office delighted her; she recited each morning the prayer she found so beautiful.

No longer able to read the canonical Office in particular, she thought to cut out from old breviaries, in large and dark letters, the prayers and hymns of important feasts which she covered the inside of the door of her cupboard in the infirmary. One had to see her standing before that kind of tablet of the law (reference to God giving the Ten Commandments to Moses). She said lately to a sister who visited her and did not know this new kind of page from an office: “Here, I have the prayers that I love. Thus, see the prayer for the feast of Christmas.” And she began to solemnly read that prayer on her cupboard that seemed to serve her as a stand.

She had to make the sacrifice of no longer coming with the Community to the refectory. We could then judge her mortification, seeing that she demanded that someone serve her in the kitchen or that she prepared it herself if need be in the infirmary. Our Sisters of the White Veil were edified with good reason, seeing this good old person come looking for her meals herself so as not to trouble the infirmarian. She sat like a poor person by the kitchen door, holding in her own way an old wooden basket to place her “little rocks” inside, as she called her favorite portions and her dish of boiled potatoes, replacing bread that was forbidden by very advanced diabetes. This caused her many other deprivations.

She offer these deprivation for a long time to our dear Saint, as well as the beginning of a very distressing deafness which she really noticed in 1925 during our big feasts for the Canonization; she couldn’t enjoy as she wished the very beautiful religious music of the Chanteurs de la Sainte-Chapelle. “I don’t know how to rhyme or sing and God knows how much I would love to hear Canticles that are sung well; I enjoyed in the past the angelic voice of Sr. Marie of the Eucharist!”

Our little Saint, who is so compassionate, had pity on the sorrow of her good Sister Aimée of Jesus. This is how she consoled her. A night in September during the feasts, the dear sister was woken by the sweetest concert she had ever heard on earth. Voices in a harmony beyond compare blended with such an infinite sweetness of which no tone escaped her. And these voices which arose from the inner courtyard seemed to her to come from the place where the statue of Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus is. The happy privileged person got up, opened her window and seeing nothing unusual, went back to bed, her soul flooded with celestial happiness. But before completely believing such a favor, she too asked for a sign: to hear one more time the voices which delighted her. Now, the following night the event was repeated. She was completely convinced and told us about it, even writing it down with a scrupulous exactitude, adding that among the voices she distinguished one that reminded her of the never forgotten Sister Marie of the Eucharist.

Before speaking to you about the simple and sweet death of our late lamented Sister, permit us, my Reverend Mother, to return a little to her virtues. Her spirit of poverty was really remarkable, everything that she had for her use bore traces, but in her own manner, manner that could have brought to mind this adage of a holy hermit of ancient Thebes:”It is not appropriate to seek cleanliness in a hair shirt.”

She often edified us by her by her faithfulness in asking for the least permissions, her humility, fraternal charity. Recently, she had the obvious right to maintain her own opinion and used this right with some obstinacy. She came back to us several hours later, her face calm and smiling, won over to the advice of everyone and happy to have gone along with it. She was extremely charitable, to the point that our sisters often wondered if she hadn’t made the vow of never refusing any service. That is not to say however that going along with the wishes of others that she answered Amen to all without thinking when that was contrary to her plans but they expected a discussion as well as a happy ending and never were they wrong about the latter. This virtuous sister offered her services as much as she could to the infirmarians, to help them with the sick, saving herself to take care of them at night, helping to bury deceased sisters and thus never leaving them, so to speak. If her prioresses had listened to her, she would have spent entire nights with them to spare the Community fatigue. Indeed, my Reverend Mother, our generous and dear daughter ended her long religious career with an act of humility, saying her culps in chapter on Friday, January 3rd with such a fullness and clearness of delivery that we couldn’t keep from saying: “My good Sister Aimée of Jesus, you make us think of the last judgment where everything will be discovered.” When she came after her accusation to kiss our scapular, we said to her in a soft voice: “Why did you accuse yourself of having spoken in refectory since you don’t go there?” She replied to us with frankness full of warmth and loud enough to be heard by all the sisters: “Yes, my Mother, I go to refectory. I even go there every day before meals to look for the bottle that is put in my place. That’s how I often forget to ask if this is necessary.” She concluded with a tone that was abrupt and pleasant at the same time. “You know that I roam everywhere!” She returned to her place with a firm step, not without having provoked a general hilarity that was difficult to contain.

It was this day’s night when she felt a very sharp pain in the shoulder and right side. She didn’t complain about it however the night was bad. The morning after she said to the sister infirmarian with extraordinary assurance: “My sister, I am sick this time, very sick, believe it.” She tried yet to get up but had to lie back down again. The doctor observed a double pneumonia with serious lesions and despite her strong constitution, he did not hide from us that he had no hope of saving her.

Our venerable sister, very calm and very abandoned, received on Sunday afternoon received last rites and extreme unction with great piety and simplicity. Her speech was hindered and we couldn’t understand her completely when she asked forgiveness of the Community. We heard her nevertheless ask for “the grace of a holy death through the intercession of our holy little Thérèse.” During free days of Christmas she said to a young sister: “We have so much work here that I prayed the good God to not leave me sick more than three days before I die and my prayer will be answered, I’m sure of it.” It was indeed and to the letter because after exactly three days of illness, she went to sleep peacefully before our eyes in the Lord’s kiss at 3 in the morning, Tuesday January 7th.

The evening before her death, our venerable sister had a pious delirium. It appears that she had the project to offer us this during the feast of St Agnes a good number of what our little Saint called in her childhood chaplets of practices so that we would have some for children who are preparing their first Communion. Now, this work haunted the spirit of our poor dying person to the point, her eyes half open, she made movements of stringing pearls, separating the decade with knots and then pulled these pearls as if she was counting herself her practices of virtue. We thought then, our heart moved, that soon this faithful servant of the Lord would leave the shadows of exile to see the Rising Sun of eternity, all actions, suffering, humiliations from her long life divinely counted by God like precious pearls to form her immortal crown. Didn’t she seem, too, by this unconscious but symbolic gesture at such an hour, to count the abundant graces she received from her Heavenly Spouse and to remind him of them, to bless him eternally. She wrote hardly a year ago, “I want to faithfully receive and to never forget all the graces Jesus intended for me through his good heart. May all that I suffer serve as purgatory and may the last instant of my life be an act of perfect love that opens Heaven to me.
The very virtuous life and the serene death of our meritorious of our very dear Sister Aimée of Jesus leave us with an impression of very great peace. “It seems to us that she isn’t dead, “said our sisters, ”but that she simply went to work elsewhere.” Thursday, January 9th during solemn and pious burial Mass, the organ brought to mind for several instants a canticle of culmination, where our Saint after having asked the Almighty for the Angels’ help to carry out her mission, that ends like this:

I will joyfully unite myself with their wings, to pick wheat night and day with them

But, on the last day of the world when the Seraphim

Has cried: “All time has finished!”

Carrying our golden harvest

We will return to Paradise.

“Who knows,” we said to ourselves, ”if our humble Sister Aimée of Jesus won’t take on in Heaven the tastes of our little Saint’s apostolate, to whom she gave the task of tying the sheaves on earth for the granary of the Father, his wheat, meaning souls that she hoped to save through suffering.”

She would indeed continue to work but, can one say work elsewhere?

Among the condolences we received on the occasion of our very beloved sister, we put in first rank that of our holy Bishop and Superior, so paternal and so good for us. His Excellency wrote us on the morning even of her death hoping to find our dear sister still alive:

“With all my soul, I am with you in this painful circumstance which you have brought to my attention. Please tell the dear sick woman that I bless her, with all the affection of my bishop’s heart which lives in thought with you all and which is interested in each one in particular as a member very closely united and very appreciated of the episcopal family. Might I add that the spiritual relationship our honorable sister, so to speak, had entered into with our little Saint, living by her side makes her even dearer to me.”

We humbly beg you, my Reverend Mother, to have offered as soon as possible for our honorable doyenne, SISTER AIMÉE OF JESUS OF THE HEART OF MARY, the prayers of our Holy Order, through grace, a Communion from your devout Community, the indulgence of the Way of the Cross and all that your charity suggests to you. She will be very grateful to you as are we, who have the grace to say to you in Our Lord, MY REVEREND and very HONORABLE MOTHER,

Your humble Sister and Servant,

SISTER AGNÈS OF JESUS,

r.c.i.

From our Monastery of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Conception, under the protection of Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus, of the Carmelites of Lisieux.

January 17th, 1930.

 

Back to the page of Sr Aimée