The Little Flower and Her Brother

One of my goals this summer is to finish all the books I started reading at school (and there are many). So far, I’ve completed Wendy Shalit’s A Return to Modesty and Patrick Ahern’s Maurice and Thérèse: The Story of a Love. If you know anything about the Little Way, you’ll recognize those accent marks. I’m referring to St. Thérèse of Lisieux, whom I mentioned in my previous post. Prior to reading this book, I had little knowledge of St. Thérèse, aside from what others had told me about her sainthood. However, as I read, I began to understand the attraction many Catholics have to St. Thérèse’s Little Way. 

Maurice and Thérèse is a collection of letters between St. Thérèse and Maurice Barthélémy Bellière, a young seminarian at the time of their correspondence. Thérèse, a cloistered nun, was asked by her superior to pray for the struggling Maurice, which she obediently did. She adopted Maurice as her spiritual brother, constantly referring to herself as his “little sister”—not because she was younger than he, but because of her great humility. Thérèse had no inhibitions when writing to her brother, and thus readers come to know this great saint, the “Little Flower,” in a deep and beautiful way. 

The letters between Maurice and Thérèse exemplify holy friendship. Though they were of opposite sexes, the two were able to foster a deeply meaningful friendship rooted in Christ’s love. They prayed for each other constantly; their prayers bore fruit in an increased love for each other and for God. They truly loved each other like siblings, brother and sister united by their common Father’s love. Maurice and Thérèse’s friendship was centered around Christ with the sole aim of leading each other closer to Him. (And it wasn't unusual, even among saints! Priest Bl. Jordan of Saxony and nun Bl. Diana d’Andalo enjoyed a similar relationship, which you can read about here.) 

All Catholics are called to rejoice and to suffer with one another (1 Corinthians 12:26), and Maurice and Thérèse did. Thérèse unhesitatingly shared her (biological) family with Maurice, writing to him of her father and sisters; the two exchanged important dates, including birthdays—a noteworthy occurrence in the life of a cloistered nun. Upon reading Thérèse’s autobiography, Story of a Soul, after Thérèse ’s death, Maurice wrote fervently to Thérèse’s sister Pauline: 

“The wonderment, the gratitude, and all the many feelings which crowd in on me! They cluster together in a happiness that is deeply intimate, profound, and unknown before! For it seemed to me, too, that an invisible hand ‘touched musical chords in my soul which until then had remained forgotten’” (Ahern 246).

Maurice’s reaction to Story of a Soul is reminiscent of my reaction to Maurice and Thérèse. The ‘forgotten musical chords’ are those of holy friendship, especially between men and women. We are all called to the kind of friendship Maurice and Thérèse shared, but few experience a relationship of such intimacy. Christ wants all of us to come to know the love in which this saintly pair dwelt. It is not reserved for the holiest of men, but rather for those who love God enough to allow Him to work in their lives. And yes, Maurice and Thérèse became a priest and a nun, respectively, but they weren’t perfect. Maurice, who was hardly eloquent, wrote of his shortcoming, “He, Who is goodness itself, sees fit to grant me only rough and ready prose” (76). Furthermore, he is constantly unsure of himself in front of the saintly Thérèse, and in his weakness he wants to ask for prayers but does so only timidly, constantly apologizing for his vulnerability before his little sister Thérèse. Thérèse grappled with the difficulty of remaining faithful through her painful terminal illness, one which she battled during the entire span of their years-long correspondence. But the holy friendship which bound the two, the familial bonds  which they forged, fortified by the love of Christ—these carried them through sin, temptation, missionary work, depression, illness, and even the last enemy, death (1 Corinthians 15:26). We must not underestimate the power of holy friendship! Let us strive each day to love each other as brothers and sisters, and let us pray constantly for one another. In that spirit, I’d like to leave you with the words of St. Thérèse: 

[I]n my childhood I dreamed of fighting on battlefields. When I was starting to learn the history of France, the story of Joan of Arc’s exploits delighted me. I used to feel in my heart the desire and the courage to imitate her. It seemed to me that the Lord destined me too for great things. I was not mistaken. But instead of voices from Heaven calling me to combat, I heard in the depths of my soul a voice that was gentler and stronger still: the voice of the Spouse of virgins was calling me to other exploits and more glorious conquests, and in the solitude of Carmel I understood my mission was not to crown a mortal king but to make the King of Heaven loved, to conquer for him the kingdom of hearts.  

—Patrick Ahern’s Maurice and Thérèse: The Story of a Love, page 106