Letter 1766. To Mother Marie Aimée de Blonay

My very dear and well-loved Daughter,—My sister your companion tells me that you are ill of tertian fever, and my sister the Superior of Bellecour writes that you also have inflammation. All this makes me somewhat uneasy, and I am anxious to get news of you without delay. Meanwhile I have something to tell you: his Eminence has replied to the Bishop of Geneva. His letter was very courteous. He said that although he had been given to understand that you were professed at Lyons, yet, in deference to his (the Bishop’s) wishes and because he desired to be of service to him, he agreed to your return to this monastery. At the same time he sent an obedience worded graciously and with dignity. So now you see you are ours, for which, with all my heart, I bless God, who wills to give me the sweet consolation of our meeting here all together for a short time. As to my journey to Moulins, it is most uncertain. His Lordship is very undecided, and our spiritual Father still more, because I have been suffering these past nights from a feverish cold. As to my wishes in the matter, I am absolutely indifferent, and only want to do what Iam told. My sister the Superior of Bellecour, in a letter I received from her yesterday, tells me that she is awaiting his Eminence to learn his wishes about Sister de la Martiniére before allowing her to go to our sisters of Moulins,

I am somewhat anxious to know all this, but my chief anxiety is to get news of you; let me have it as soon as you can, and tell me quite candidly if you think you have, as I hope and desire, strength and health to bear the burden of superiority: for, believe me, our sisters will elect you—I am sure of it. It is my desire, and I think it ought to be, for several good reasons, in regard to the preservation of your reputation and good odour throughout the Institute, which their treatment of you at Lyons appeared to have affected, though it has not really done so. So do I adore the sovereign Providence that disposes all things for our good. May it be blessed for the sweet consolation it is preparing for us! Our ecclesiastical superiors and our sisters are entirely satisfied about it, but the satisfaction of none, I think, equals mine in seeing once more my dear Cadette near me, so that I can pass the rest of my days with her asa most dear mother, as a daughter singularly lovable, and as a sister of perfect trustfulness. For all which I can but bless unendingly the goodness of our divine Saviour, and beg of Him to give me the grace to profit by this happiness.

I have written all round to tell of my joy. Do likewise, and let it be known how glad you are to return here; above all tell them of it at Lyons, and say that you bless God, who has provided so happy an end to the sufferings that His providence permitted should be yours. But say nothing more, unless it be to ask them to love you in Our Lord, and to assure them that your affection for them will never change. Say not to anyone one single word that would show the least desire in the world to return to Lyons, nor any resentment for all that has passed, but let your love and your goodwill for each one of them be evident.

I implore of you, my most dear daughter, to prove on this occasion that you are a true child of God and of our Blessed Father, who never bore ill will, and that you are a follower of Our Saviour in having no self-pity, for He never compassionated Himself, but did good and bestowed affection on those from whom He suffered most.

Let Lyons withdraw your companion, as, it is only reasonable, each one must return to her own nest. Some good secular woman could accompany you. I will tell you what I have discovered: it is quite clear that they do not want you back there [at Lyons], and had you returned it would have only been bitterness for you.

I write in haste, but from my heart’s heart.