Letter 1777. To Mother Barbe Marie Bouvart
My very dear and good Daughter,—We have but just, these last days of April, received your letters, dated the 24th of June of last year and 13th February of this—both came together. You see what a time I have been without the consolation of news of you. Six months’ silence is quite as much as my heart can bear without anxiety. However, now, having your letters, old and new, I am quite content. Both, I am consoled to see, tell how our good God blesses your little community, and how it continues to walk in the path of faithful observance. Above all, I thank God for this peace, this spirit of peace—or should I say of union and affectionate open-heartedness >—that His goodness has diffused amongst your sisters; and this is not only in your house, but also throughout the whole Institute, and singularly amongst our poor little sisters of Mamers, who are so good. We must keep up cordial and holy intercourse, above all when somewhat far away from the other houses, as is your dear monastery. News and encouragement from our sisters is more profitable than anything, and gives fresh proof that to keep ourselves humbly secure in our little Institute is our chief good and sweet consolation.
With all my heart I congratulate your dear sisters on not being talkers with those outside. The more they see of seculars, the more they will experience that it is best for them to keep all together near God, devoted to their Rules and seeking for nothing beyond them.
You have given me great pleasure in telling me a little about Sister Grasseteau. She is indeed a daughter whom I love, of this she may be quite sure. Let her not be surprised at her temptations and difficulties: God sends them for her greater good. She must bear them humbly, and be satisfied with the knowledge that her will does not consent. To struggle and not to yield is to glorify God in our infirmities.
Ever renewing her courage, let her never give in, but keep up her flagging spirits by a keen and joyous confidence. As to that poor good sister who is so tender of herself, you will work a small miracle if God gives you grace to free her of this imperfection. Have compassion for her and be generous in bearing with her. Try quite gently to raise her out of her faint-heartedness. It is a great thing that she has such a fear of God: in that she possesses a precious and desirable treasure.
And you, my dearest daughter, have received in the attraction to hand yourself over completely into the arms of sovereign Goodness a gift of rare value, seeing that He has thus freed you from reflections on self. So resist them that they may never encumber your spirit, for they are one of the greatest hindrances that can be in the spiritual life. I am much consoled at the union that exists between your Charity and my dear Sister M. Anastase [Pavillon]. She is indeed a soul of true virtue. It grieves me to hear that she is not well; but in everything we must acquiesce in the most holy will of our good God, in whose love I affectionately salute our all dear sisters, begging of them always to advance more and more in perfect observance. Ask them to have the charity to recommend me to the sovereign mercy of God. Yours, -etc.
Chapter 206 of 252