Farewell to the World

Tarbes and Lourdes — The Carmel of Dijon — The hour of grace — Faith and self-renunciation — Letters and souvenirs — August 2, 1901.

The summer holidays were spent in a series of farewells to her friends and the places Elizabeth would never revisit. While staying at Tarbes she sometimes called upon the Reverend Mother Prioress of the Carmelite Convent.

" At the end of quite a long visit," the latter relates, " I was obliged to summon one of the outsisters to the parlour while Elizabeth was still there. The sister asked me if I knew that she was on her knees. She must have been kneeling beside the grille the whole time. It was easy to see from her conversation that her soul was given to God, so that we were less surprised than delighted at the marvels of grace described in the c death notice ' we received from Dijon."

It was at Tarbes, while visiting a young nun who had just taken the veil, that her mother gave her final consent. When the latter saw the overflowing joy of the new Carmelite and her daughter's tears, she realized that her child's happiness was at stake, and said to her on leaving : " Do not cry ; I will not make you wait much longer."

Elizabeth was unspeakably consoled during her two days' sojourn at Lourdes. She had the happiness of receiving Holy Communion in the Grotto, a place from which she could not tear herself away.

She was specially attracted by the mystery of the purity of the Immaculate Virgin for whom she had a tender and filial devotion, and had already received many graces and heavenly inspirations when she visited the rocks of Massabieilles, in the Pyrenees, with her family during the holidays. She came this year for the last time to beg the " Star of the Sea " to guide her safely into port.

Her travels ended with a short stay at Paris. Her mother and sister went there to see the Great Exhibition, but the sanctuaries of Notre-Dame des Victoires and Montmartre were the only spots that interested the future Carmelite. She longed to return to Dijon to her beloved convent, to prepare for her entrance into the holy ark, the chief matter that occupied her during these last few months.

Fortunately, the organization of the chants for our services furnished her with a pretext for numerous visits to the Reverend Mother Prioress. "Dear, poor, little parlour, what delightful moments I spend there ! My Jesus, I beg Thee to repay the kind Mother for all the good she does me ; she understands so well how to bring Thee to my soul !"

On her side, the Mother Prioress said of her : " What a charming child ! She consoles me for everything. . . ." " We used to speak of prayer," she writes in a letter we received to-day. " Hers was quite simple and uniform. The Divine Master was

FAREWELL TO THE WORLD

SS there within her, fashioning her as He chose. She complained that she did nothing, ravished as she was by Him Who did all."

At Carmel Elizabeth met a Dominican priest who was destined by Providence to exercise an influence over her inner life. This Father had a special grace for speaking of the Blessed Trinity. The august mystery had not yet been revealed in her soul, which was concentrated on love of the Divine Master and a desire of becoming absorbed in the contemplation of His sufferings. Transformation into Jesus crucified was already her ideal of sanctity, so that it cost her something to submit when the Mother Prioress told her to renounce her name of Elizabeth of Jesus, as she intended to consecrate her to the Three Divine Persons. The young girl soon blamed herself for such a regret, for the name of Elizabeth of the Trinity was for her a vocation — indeed, it was her whole vocation.

Meanwhile, the religious, putting into words what she already felt by intuition, set before her what might be described as boundless views of the exceeding love of God, Her soul was transported by it, and her prayer became still deeper. In this light of faith, which was always her guiding beacon, she used to remain in silent adoration of the Divine treasures laid open to her.¹

" It was a real joy," writes the Dominican, u to speak of our Lord and His grace dwelling within us to this soul, so pure, so intuitive, and yet so simple, whose will and intelligence had been given to the Divine Master from the very first."

The fruit of her realization of this truth was a childlike faith which grafted her in a peaceful and loving abandonment to the care of Him Whose Divine Fatherhood, now that it stood revealed, brought solace to the anguish of her longing.

c< I yield myself to Him ; I abandon myself, and am at peace. I know in Whom I trust. He is almighty ; let Him arrange all things according to His good pleasure. I only will what He wills ; I desire what He desires. I ask but one thing of Him — a true, generous, and strong love for Him."

Two months later, our little dove, full of hope and joy, would enter the ark. From her letters and diaries we can follow her till she ends her calm and steady flight, and listen to her last songs in a " strange land."

"May 19, 1901.

" Dear Canon A ,

"How good God is! How sweet it is to give ourselves, to yield ourselves utterly to Him !

on me by what he said about the infinite love which seeks and pursues each soul.'" "The effect of this first meeting," continues another nun, "was one of the things which most clearly revealed to me the soul of Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity. Others, initiated like herself into the mystery of Divine love, are only under the influence of the light they have received at certain times. She never withdrew from it. It was because she was in a fit state to correspond at once with the gifts of grace, like soft wax ready to receive the stamp of the seal, or like the calm and lovely lake spoken of by St. John of the Cross, in which the heavens can mirror their beauty."

When He wills, He knows how to overcome all obstacles and smooth away every difficulty.

" I entrusted all that concerns me to Him ; 1 asked Him to speak to dear mamma Himself. He did it so well that I needed to say nothing. Poor mamma! If you could only see how good she is! She leaves all to the good God and realizes what He wants, so that she will allow me to enter Carmel in two months. I have wished and waited so long for the day that I feel as if I were dreaming now. But do not imagine that I do not feel the sacrifice. I offer it to God whenever I think of the separation. Could I make a greater sacrifice than that of such a mother as mine ? Ah ! He understands, His heart is so tender, and He knows that it is for His sake ; He upholds me and prepares me for the sacrifice !

" You know that this good Master wants me for Himself alone. I knew it, so I felt confident and was sure He would take me. Thank God for your little Elizabeth ; He has given her so much, especially graces known to no one but Himself — things which take place in the very depths of the soul. Oh, what love ! But He knows well that I love Him, and that seems to me to include everything.

c* Is not to live by love — that is to say, to live no longer except with Him, in Him, by Him — to be already partly in Paradise while still on earth ? I will tell you a secret. If you only knew how homesick I sometimes feel for heaven, for I wish so intensely to go there to be near Him. I should be glad if He took me even before I entered Carmel, for Carmel in heaven is far better, and I should be a Carmelite just the same in Paradise. When I say this to the Mother Prioress, she tells me I am lazy ;

still, I only wish what the good God wishes, and if He chooses to leave me on earth for a very long while, I am quite ready to live there for Him.

" You will think me rather heartless. I am ashamed of all the foolish things 1 say ; but you asked me to write freely to you, and I obey — besides, I think you understand me.

u I still beg you for your holy prayers, of which I have special need. Pray above all for my darJing mamma ; ask God to take my place in her heart and to be all in all to her.',

"Friday, June 14, 1901.

" For the last ten days I have been suffering with a slight attack of synovitis in my knee. I am glad : it is a favour from my Beloved, Who wishes His little bride to share the pain of His Divine knees on the way to Calvary. I am deprived of church and Holy Communion, but the good God can come to me without any Sacrament; I feel that I have Him with me quite as much. I It is there, in the very depths of my soul, that I love to find Him, since He Vy^' never leaves me. God in me and I in Him — oh! o ^that is my life ! . , . i What a consolation to think 'that, except that we do not see Him, we possess Him already as the blessed possess Him in heaven ; that we are able to keep ever beside Him, never letting ourselves be distracted from Him. Pray that I may allow Him to make me wholly His, and to take me to Him. . . .

"Did I ever tell you what my name is to be in Carmel ? . . . Elizabeth of the Trinity! I think this name points to my special vocation. Is it not beautiful ? I delight in the mystery of the Blessed Trinity; I lose myself in its depths.

" Only a month to wait ! The last moments are agonizing. Poor mamma ! Pray for her. I give her entirely into the care of the good God. c Think \ of Me, and I will think of thee,' our Lord said to St. ] - Catharine of Siena. It is so sweet to abandon all to Him when we know Him in Whom we confide !

u Good-bye, dear Canon A . I send you my photograph- I was thinking of Him while it was taken, so it will bring Him to you. Pray for me ; I assure you that I need it.

" Elizabeth."

Let us listen again to the reminiscences of one who can speak with authority of her whom we shall soon call " Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity." Her charming account will form a fitting close to the first part of our biography :

" When I first met Elizabeth she was seventeen. I was captivated by her at our first interview. A year later I made acquaintance with her mother, and Elizabeth, who knew that I had been connected with Carmel, made friends with me. We soon became very intimate, and I could read the secrets of the interior life already taught her by God. They were all comprised in the one word — Love ! She was passionately devoted to our Lord, which explains the extraordinary thirst for suffering that prepared her for her sublime vocation.

" Love is of two kinds — the love that receives, and the love that gives. Hers was the latter. For her to love was to devote, to sacrifice, to immolate herself — ' to love until I die of very love/ as she says in \ her beautiful prayer.* She longed to prove her love * This prayer is to be found in the Appendix.

for God ; and as contemplation did not suffice, she gave herself. And this she did once for all and entirely, consecrating her life within the cloister, where, drop by drop, she spent her life's blood, crucifying her body, her heart, her soul . . . until she died. She followed the example of her Master and her Bridegroom to the very end.

" I was specially struck by two things in her sensitive, impulsive soul — her longing for suffering, and her desire for death. When we talked together about her grand and noble vocation, I could not* resist saying : ' Do not deceive yourself, Elizabeth. God takes such souls as yours at their word. He will accept your gift of yourself, and you may be sure that by entering Carmel you are plunging into an; abyss of suffering. I do not know what sufferings God is keeping for you ; perhaps yours will be crosses of every kind, since you wish to be like your Jesus. ... It is a bottomless abyss. . . .' She answered with her sweet and beaming smile : c I am ready to take the plunge. I hope to suffer deeply ; that is my reason for entering Carmel ; and if the good God were to deprive me of it for a single day I should fear that He had forgotten me.'

" Sometimes, homesick for heaven like all the saints, she longed for death to destroy the obstacle that separated her from the Beatific Vision. She often said to me with glowing eyes, like a child that talks of going home : ' For me death would be like the crumbling of that wall ' (pointing to the wall of my room). ' I should fall into the arms of Him I Jove f Her accents showed how she yearned for it ; then calmly and quietly she added : c However, I must wait/ She had not long to wait, for she loved ' until she died of very love.' God did not forget her for a single day, for she suffered, as she craved to, until she died of it.

" She often came to see me, and always talked on the same subject. ' When shall I enter Carmel ? What a joy it is to love the good God ! My soul cannot dilate itself with His love except in the solitude of the cloister. ... I long to be there, that I may pray, and suffer, and love !'

" Except when she poured out her heart in confidence, she never appeared different from other people. She was quiet and cheerful, peaceful and smiling ; but her smile was serious, and her gaze seemed fixed on something beyond this world. I was struck by it on the point of her entering the convent. While waiting for her in the chapel to say a last good-bye, I heard a slight noise, and, turning round, my glance met hers. ... I could not describe it. . . . Her expression was rather angelic than human. Her eyes were luminous and transparent — shining with the light of heaven. . . . She made an impression upon me that I shall never forget. ... It was the last time that I saw her outside the grille. "

Another incident concerning Elizabeth before she entered her convent testifies to the generosity of the postulant who constantly endeavoured to renounce self and to be resigned to the will of God. The Prioress of Dijon was preparing to make a foundation at Paray-le-Monial when she first met Elizabeth, and the idea naturally occurred to her of including in the little group of nuns to be sent there, one who so fully realized St. Teresa's ideal of a subject for a fresh community, and who would be an example and blessing to the novitiate. The Reverend Mother, therefore, offered Elizabeth the grace of being one of those chosen for the Sucre Cesur. The latter, thinking it more perfect to have no choice in the matter, accepted the proposal with simplicity, without owning her preference for the Carmel of Dijon, upon which she had so long set her heart, and of which she felt herself already a member. On the other hand, the work of making a foundation — a real grace for some religious, j on account of its endless opportunities of well-doing — was distasteful to Elizabeth, who needed regular and established observance for her longed-for life of solitude and prayer.

As the time drew nearer the poor girl suffered more and more keenly in the increasing struggle against her preference, for she had " abandoned herself entirely to God, leaving Him to direct all things according to His good pleasure, reserving nothing for herself except a valiant, generous love for Him."

The disappointment felt by her mother and sister increased her sorrow, while making her more careful not to betray her feelings, lest Nature should intervene in what ought to be entirely supernatural. She submitted her own will as her love led her to do in all else.

Her postulant's dress had been sent to Paray-le- Monial, and the day of her departure drew near. Madame Catez, overcome at the prospect of so complete a separation from her daughter, regretted that the Mother Prioress was about to make the foundation ; yet her conscience was too delicate to allow her to withdraw her promise of letting Elizabeth enter her house. She confided in a friend, who advised her to consult some competent authority. Madame Catez did so, and was encouraged in her wish of keeping her daughter near her. She told the Mother Prioress. The reply, given by one whose sole thought was to follow the Divine will, regardless of the sacrifices which for many months that will had demanded of her, was addressed to Elizabeth :

" No doubt you are aware that your mother and Marguerite have asked me to leave you at Dijon, which it seems is also your wish. I recognize in it the will of the good God, which we ought to love and obey without demur. Give yourself to our Lord in the place where He wishes you to be ; I would not have brought you here against His will. I will receive you for Dijon, dear child ; bring your whole heart and soul with you, with which to love our Lord. I wish I could be there to offer you to Him, but business keeps me here ; yet my prayers and my heart will be there to bless you."

"Then, and not till then," says Marguerite, "Elizabeth owned to me that she had felt very sad at the prospect of not entering the Carmel of Dijon ; but she had thought that her sacrifice would be more complete if she renounced even the choice of her convent."

As her daughter's health suffered from the trials of her last days in the world, Madame Catez, forgetful of her own feelings, came to us and asked us to fix an earlier date for Elizabeth's entrance into Carmel, and on August 2 the doors were opened to the happy postulant.

There is a touching simplicity about the last hours spent together by those who loved one another so tenderly. On the eve of the first Friday of the month Elizabeth, faithful to her tryst at Gethsemani, had spent part of the night in prayer, when her poor mother, who could not sleep, came to kneel and weep reside her bed, mingling her tears with those of her levoted daughter, who did not seek to hide her mguish. "Why do you leave me, then?" asked the mother. " Ah ! dearest mother, can I resist 3 God when He calls me ? He holds out His arms to me, and tells me that He is despised, outraged, forsaken! And shall I, too, abandon Him? He wants victims, and I must go. Grieved as I am to leave you and to cause you sorrow, I must follow His call I"

When at last the time came for Elizabeth to leave her home for ever, she knelt before her father's portrait to ask him for his blessing. Then, calm and brave, she came to Mass at our chapel. Her mother and sister and a few attached friends accompanied her to the altar, and then to the enclosure door which was shut upon her as she turned for a last look at those she loved so fondly.

At daybreak on that great day she had written to Carcassonne :

" I want to send you a last farewell before entering Carmel. We are to receive Holy Communion at eight o'clock, and when He is in our hearts, mamma will take me to the enclosure door. I love my mother as 1 never loved her before, and my soul is filled with peace now that I am about to accomplish the sacrifice that will separate me from the two I so fondly cherish. I no longer belong to this world, but feel that I am entirely His, that I keep back nothing, and I cast myself into His arms as though I were a little child."

It was thus, with the self-surrender and simplicity of a child, that she cast herself into the arms of her who was to stand for her henceforth in the place of God.²

Footnotes

1. " One recreation day, after an intimate conversation with Elizabeth, astonished at the beauty of her soul, I could not refrain from asking her : ' Who has taught you all this ?' She answered with a careless gesture peculiar to her : ■ I don't know how I learnt it, Sister. However, I own to you that Pere Vallee influenced me very strongly. The first time he saw me he spoke to me about the Divine charity towards us. I felt overwhelmed. . . . Never have I forgotten the impression made ↩

2. This was the Mother Sub-Prioress, as the Reverend Mother Prioress was still at Paray-le-Monial. The former was placed at the head of the community by the next elections. ↩