Chapter XI

Continues the story of Dona Casilda de Padilla and how she succeeded in carrying out her holy desires for the Religious life.

At that time it happened that the habit was given to a lay Sister, Sister Estefania of the Apostles, in the Convent of the Conception. I may perhaps later on tell the story of her vocation; because, although these two were in different positions — for Sister Estefania was a labourer's daughter — yet the great graces which God bestowed on her deserve to be recorded of her, to the glory of His Majesty. When she took the habit, Dona Casilda — for that was the name of this beloved of our Lord — went to the service with her grandmother, the mother of her betrothed. She took a great liking to the convent, thinking that the nuns there could serve the Lord better from being few and poor. However, at that time she had not made up her mind to quit her betrothed; for, as I have said, it was the giving him up which most held her back.

She reflected that before her betrothal she used to observe times of prayer, because her mother in her goodness and saintliness observed them and brought up her children to it: from the age of seven she used to make them go into the oratory at certain times, and she taught them how to meditate on the Passion of our Lord, and made them go often to confession. Her desire was to dedicate them to God: and thus she saw the good fruit of her longing. She has told me that she used continually to offer them to God, beseeching Him to take them out of the world; for she was already disenchanted as to the world's value. I sometimes think when they find themselves in the fruition of everlasting joy, knowing that they owe it to their mother, what thanks they will give her, and what her special joy will be in seeing them there. And I think of those whose parents, on the contrary, have not brought them up as the children of God — Whose they are more than their parents' — and what cursing and despair there will be when they see each other in hell.

Then, to return to what I was saying, when she found that it was irksome to her even to recite the Rosary, she was sorely afraid that she would grow worse and worse. And she seemed to see clearly that her salvation would be assured if she came into this house; and so she quite made up her mind. And one morning when she and her mother and her sister together came thither, it happened that they went inside the house, without the least idea of what she was going to do. When she found herself within, nobody could get her out again. Her weeping and entreaties to be allowed to stay were such that they did not know what to do. Her mother, although secretly rejoicing, was afraid of the relations, and did not wish her to remain, as things were, lest they should say it was by her persuasion: the Prioress also was of the same mind, thinking her a child, and that she needed more probation. This was in the morning. They had to stay until the evening; and they sent for her confessor, and for the master Father Fray Domingo, who was mine, the Dominican whom I mentioned at the beginning. I was not there myself. This Father saw at once that it was the work of the Spirit of God. (And he helped her greatly, going through much at the hands of her relations. So indeed ought all those who profess to serve God to do, when they see a soul to be called by God, and they ought not to be so much influenced by worldly prudence.) He promised to help her to return some other day. And he got her to go away for this time, with great persuasion, lest the blame should be laid on her mother.

Her desires kept increasing in strength. Her mother began to speak of it to her relations; privately, so that the secret should not come to the knowledge of the betrothed. They said it was childishness, and she must wait until she was old enough; for she had not completed her twelfth year. The child said, They had thought her old enough to be married and left in the world; how was it they did not think her old enough to give herself to God? She so spoke that it was plain to see it was not herself who was speaking. The thing could not be kept so secret but that the betrothed got to know of it. When she heard that, she felt she could bear to wait no longer. So one day, on the Feast of the Conception, when she was staying with her grandmother, who was also her mother-in-law, who knew nothing about this, she begged and besought her to let her go into the country with her nurse for a little amusement. Her grandmother, to content her, did so, sending her in a carriage with her servants. The child gave some money to one of them, asking him to get some vine-branches or faggots and wait with them at the door of this convent, and she had the carriage driven round by a way which brought her back past the house. When it arrived at the door, she told the servants to ask at the grating for a jar of water, without saying who it was for, and she herself hastily alighted. They said they would give it to her outside; but that she would not have. The faggots were already there; and she told the servants to ask the Sisters to come to the door for them.

She stood close by: and when they opened the door, in she went, and went and threw her arms round the statue of our Lady, weeping and imploring the Prioress not to send her away. Loud were the cries of the servants and their knocking at the door. She went and spoke to them through the grating, and said she would not come out for anything in the world, and they must go and tell her mother. The women who had gone out with her made piteous lamentations; but she cared for none of it. When they told the news to her grandmother, she went there immediately. But neither she, nor an uncle, nor her betrothed, who, when he came, succeeded in talking to her at the grating, could do more than distress her while they were with her; but they left her more determined than before. Her betrothed, after many piteous lamentations, told her that she could serve God more by giving alms. She answered that he might give them himself: and in answer to the rest she told him that her strongest obligation was her own salvation, that she knew herself to be weak, and that among the temptations of the world she would not be saved; and that he could not complain of her, since it was only for God she had left him, and this was doing no wrong to him. When she found that nothing convinced him, she got up and left him. He made no impression upon her; rather on the whole he put her against him. For when God gives the light of truth to a soul, the devil's temptations and obstacles only help it the more, because it is God Himself Who fights for it. Thus in this case it was clearly seen, for it appeared not to be herself who was speaking.

When her betrothed and her relations saw of how little use it was to try to get her out by her own consent, they took measures for doing so by force. So they obtained an order from the King to take her out of the convent and restore her to liberty. During all this time, from the Feast of the Conception until Holy Innocents' Day, when they took her out, she was never given the habit; but she kept all the observances of the Rule, just as if she had received it, with the greatest satisfaction. On Holy Innocents' Day, the officers of the law came for her, and took her to the house of a nobleman, she weeping abundantly and asking why they tormented her, seeing it would avail them nothing. There much persuasion was brought to bear on her, both by members of Religious Orders and others; some thinking it was childishness, and others wishing her to enjoy her worldly position. It would take me too long to recount the arguments used and the way in which she extricated herself from them all. She amazed everyone with the things she said. When at last they saw it was of no use, they placed her in her mother's house, to be kept there for some time. Her mother was fairly tired of all this disquiet, and gave her no help, but rather seemed to be against her. It may be that this was in order to test her better: at least, this is what she has since told me, and she is so saintly that whatever she says is to be believed. But the child did not understand this. Her confessor, too, was strongly opposed to her desires; so that she had no help but from God, and from a maidservant of her mother's, who comforted her.

Thus she went on in great trouble and affliction until she had completed her twelfth year, when she heard that as they could not now hinder her from taking the veil, they were talking of taking her to the convent where her sister was, because it was not so severe. When she heard that, she determined to carry out her purpose by any possible means. So one day, when she had gone to mass with her mother, and her mother had gone into a confessional in the church to make her confession, the girl asked her nurse to go and request one of the Fathers to say a mass for her. As soon as she saw her back turned, she put her clogs up her sleeve, picked up her skirts, and went off as fast as ever she could go to this convent, which was a long way off. Her nurse, finding she was gone, went after her, and when she got near her, she begged a man to stop her for her. The man afterwards said that he had found himself unable to stir: and so he let her go. She ran through the outer gate of the convent and shut it and began to call out; and by the time the nurse arrived she was inside the house; and they gave her the habit immediately. Thus the good beginning which our Lord had wrought in her was brought to its completion.

His Majesty speedily began to reward her with spiritual graces, and she to serve Him with the greatest joy and the deepest humility and detachment from all things. May He be blessed for ever Who made her, once so fond of the most elaborate and richest garments, to take pleasure in the poor habit of serge! Not that this could conceal her beauty: for our Lord had endowed her with natural graces as well as spiritual; her personal qualities and intelligence being so attractive as to move everyone to praise God for them. May it please His Majesty that many may thus respond to His call!¹

Footnotes

1. St Theresa wrote some very interesting letters, published in her Correspondence, about this nun. The one most worthy of attention is one to Father Banes, written at Salamanca, on her way to make the foundation at Segovia in 1574. And, after all, this nun, yielding perhaps to the insidious suggestions of her relations, quitted the Carmelite habit, and betook herself to a Franciscan convent at Burgos, where she died, not without being very sorry for what she had done in her fickleness. ↩