From sr Marie of the Eucharist to her father Isidore Guérin - December 4 (?),1896.

From Sister Marie of the Eucharist to M. Guérin.

December 4 (?),1896



Dear little Father,

I am coming once again to make a little "knock, knock" on your bedroom door. I am coming to recommend to you a poor beggar whom you have already laden with your kind deeds without her ask­ing. This beggar is eating dishes from your table; the venerable matron, your wife, is trying hard to find delicate and appetizing dishes for this poor beggar. The poor beggar had a vesicatory yester­day on her chest. Because of the state of her illness, we were able to realize for ourselves the condition of her miserable hovel. Pic­ture to yourself a real hovel, the plaster walls scratched and blackened, a poor mean litter—this is the only name for it—made up of a straw mattress softer than the best feather bed, and covered with her old clothes that served her as blankets. I will not enter into detail about her garments, glad rags, bodices, etc., which lie on the floor in a corner. The little doctor of the monastery who is speaking to you at the moment notices, when coming to see her patient, the gratitude toward her generous benefactors, overflowing the poor beg­gar's heart. There is no mistake in applying here the words of a modern poet: "And under the frightful rags imprisoning him there beats a heart of gold. The poor beggar is not accustomed to good things; so, yesterday, before a dish of veal in mushrooms, she left aside the latter, not knowing too well what it was.. .. Our Mother, coming in at that moment, told the patient that these little brown- black berries were mushrooms. Our beggar, having lived in opulence in her childhood, recalled that she used to love this kind of thing very much. She was sorry for not having eaten them, but through a feeling of innate pride, she did not want to admit that she had not recognized this precious dish, and so she was profuse in interior regrets and made up for it in the evening by swallowing them down with avidity.

You know, don't you, dear little Father, the poor beggar for whom you have a special affection, so she is sending you her best kisses and often thinks you are keeping her company in your own condi­tion that saddens her and makes her offer up to heaven her most fervent prayers.

You see, dear little Father, from my description, the riches of a Carmelite's cell, but what compensates greatly for it is the affection and devoted care given by her sisters, angels on earth.

I kiss and love you with my whole heart, along with my dear little Mother.

Your little Marie of the Eucharist


© Washington Province of Discalced Carmelite Friars, Inc

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