Letter 1356. To Mother Frangoise Gasparde de la Grave
In answer to your letter, dearest daughter, may God in His infinite goodness inspire me to say what will be to His good pleasure about poor Sister N. My God! how I feel her manner of going on, when I remember with what simplicity she walked in the way of perfect observance here, and how our Blessed Father loved her for it. Such is our misery! She inspires me with great compassion. Now I tell you with all sincerity in the presence of God, since you desire it, that I believe the greatest service you can do this poor sister is to win her back by gentleness and maternal love. Cordially encourage her amendment, making her feel that you desire it by the loving earnestness with which you help her, and create in her a desire to be faithful to the observance, so that by this means she may regain the esteem of the sisters. Let her know that you will try on your side to excuse the faults she has committed in their presence, so that if she pulls herself together you will give her the charge of assistant, and that you would like to do so, provided she tries to fit herself for it.
But this remedy, dearest daughter, ought to be applied with all love and kindliness, and it will, I think, be of use to her: for the poor soul is in reality good-hearted, and her misdemeanours proceed from the idea she has got into her head that you wish to depreciate her, and that you do not like her. This (she thinks) is why you do not employ her in the high charges she so much desires. Indeed, such desires show plainly enough her feebleness of mind, and that she is unfit for such solid remedies as the complete mortification of her inclinations. We must practise a truly motherly gentleness in upholding these poor weak minds that have not the courage to conquer themselves. Our Blessed Father used to say: ‘ Where infirmity abounds and humility and submission are wanting, there must our charity superabound and give support.’ I shall never forget what he said to me at Lyons about a lay-sister novice who wished to have the black veil and whom there was no making to yield on the point. He had it given to her. Another time I told him that I was of opinion it would be well to humble thoroughly and put to shame a sister who, I judged, had need of it. ‘Wait,’ he said to me, ‘ until she is strong enough to receive such severe blows; as yet she is not. We must not give medicine to the sick which we see will do them no good.’ He said also in his last years that experience had taught him that it is by gentleness that one moulds souls. Other means one seeks in vain, and one has always to come back to gentleness.
This is very different advice from that of M. N., which was to change this poor daughter’s place of abode.
We must not even think of such a thing, nor give her any hope of it. Such remedies are, it seems to me, too slow, and will prevent our efforts from taking effect. You must invigorate and enkindle your charity with true zeal and kindly helpfulness for her amendment. I have a strong hope that the divine Mercy will imbue you with great zeal, and give you in return a thousand consolations and eternal happiness.
I pray this divine Goodness to enlighten you with the views It has given me on this subject, for they would take too long to write; but may He make known to you His most holy will, which I know well your one longing is to accomplish. Here is a little note for the poor invalid. See if you think it well to give it to her. Oh! how I long for her cure, and that of those other poor sisters whom your charity tells me are ill. May God in His sweet goodness give her all she needs. I am so glad you are treating her so kindly, and that you get her all you think helpful, not only in times of sickness but in health.
You do quite right in not undertaking that work of vanity of which you make mention. God will see that you have in plenty all that is needful. I am indeed distressed by the loss M. has suffered by his lawsuit, and I pray God to recompense him by all kinds of spiritual graces for his temporal losses. If writes to you anything prejudicial to the holy affection and esteem that our sisters have for you, he is in error, for we know nothing of it. See, I beg of you, that Sister does not let outsiders know more of her trouble than is really necessary, for by this means she will not only discredit the sisters that are sick but the whole house; and if she needs must speak, let it be to persons thoroughly capable of such confidence. To conclude, I beseech of you, good and dearest daughter, to receive all I say in the same spirit of candour and simplicity with which I confide it to you. But, if God ever gives me the pleasure of seeing you again—which, I confess, would be a great consolation to me—we shall speak about everything in openness of heart and solely for the glory of God. This, however, depends on his Lordship, to whom you should write if you think it well to see me. As for me, daughter, God knows how willingly I would go. All our monasteries are longing, positively yearning, to see me; but the journey to Piedmont is completely absorbing us. God’s holy will be done in all things! Amen. May His pure love overflow in your heart and in those of all your dear daughters, whom I count as mine own and whom [I love cordially in Our Lord. May He be blessed!
Chapter 141 of 252