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CHAPTER II
THE DIVINE PRISONER OF LOVE
It was Teresa's clothing day in the Carmel. Her father had come to meet her at the enclosure door, his eyes filled with tears of joy. Pressing her to his heart, he exclaimed:
"Ah! here is my little Queen!"
He then gave her his arm, and together they solemnly entered the public chapel.
His two eldest daughters had already joined the Carmel. Celine too had confided to him her wish to leave the world. His gratitude therefore knew no bounds. Where could he better pour forth the gladness of his heart than in the presence of his Eucharistic King? The ardent desire of his saintly wife, during her brief life, was now receiving its last and complete fulfillment.
"I beseech Thee," she repeatedly had asked of Almighty God, "to make me the mother of many children, and to grant that all of them may be dedicated to Thee."
Such, too, had been his own most fervent wish, though he never sought to forestall the workings of the Holy Ghost in the souls confided to him.
"Let us go before the Blessed Sacrament," he now said, "and thank God for all the graces He has granted us and the honor He has paid me in choosing His spouses from my household. God has indeed done me great honor in asking for my children. If I possessed anything better, I would hasten to offer it to Him."
More than ever the Little Flower was henceforth to bloom and spend herself for her Beloved, and draw, in ever greater measure, from the Divine Sun of Love the sweetness and beauty which were so to entrance the world in after years and turn men's hearts to God in new and fuller dedication. Many, indeed, were the lessons she was to learn during the moments of sublime intimacy that were to pass between herself and that hidden Bridegroom of her soul, speaking to her from behind the lattice, in the silence of the Tabernacle.
In her masque, "The Angles of the Crib," she makes the Angel of the Eucharist fly to earth to seek Christ's Altar Throne. She herself might now sing with this celestial Guardian of her Eucharistic God:
"Here shall I dwell in this blest place,
The sanctuary of my King,
And here before His veiled face
My hymns of burning love shall sing."
In the Holy Eucharist she beheld the completion of Christ's profound self-abasement: the Divine King of Glory submitting Himself in wondrous humility to all His priests. They may have less or greater fervor, they may advance or delay the hour of the Holy Sacrifice, yet He is always ready to come down from His high Heaven at their call. The Faithful, too, may heed His invitation. They may hasten to Him with the utmost frequency and affection, or they may delay to follow His invitation and approach Him only with coldness and indifference. Yet He gives Himself to all alike.
"O my Beloved," she exclaimed, in a prayer composed by her for a novice, "under the white Eucharistic veil Thou dost indeed appear to me meek and humble of heart! To teach me humility Thou canst not further abase Thyself, and so I wish to respond to Thy love by putting myself in the lowest place, by sharing Thy humiliations, so that I may 'have part with Thee' in the Kingdom of Heaven."
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