One of my favorite saints happens to have a feast day at the beginning of October:聽St. Therese of the Child Jesus, often called 鈥淭he Little Flower,鈥 was a Carmelite nun whose autobiography,聽Story of a Soul, is still widely read and loved.
Therese wasn鈥檛 always my favorite. On the one hand, it鈥檚 hard not to admire this beautiful saint whose 鈥渓ittle way鈥 embraces small things with great love, and who wanted to spend her heaven showering roses on earth. On the other hand, it聽can聽be hard – at least for me – to relate to someone who鈥檚 been painted as nearly perfect, even angelic, in her holiness. The stubbornly fallible part of me starts grumbling at the prospect, or just plain distrusts the image.
I鈥檝e come to realize, however, that the 鈥淟ittle Flower,鈥 beyond espousing a way of life that鈥檚 frankly beautiful, is also a tenacious and imaginative saint. To be martyred for one鈥檚 faith is certainly a profound and glorious affirmation of love. To undergo daily anxiety, annoyance, frustration, and discomfort – to carry the chronic crosses, day after day, is no less profound an opportunity. To take the irritating circumstances of grinding teeth and clacking beads, the mundane chores or thankless errands – the whining, pestering, broken circumstances – and meet them with love takes an incredible act of will. It looks at the world and sees, not what鈥檚 immediately obvious to our last nerve, but the transformative, even creative potential by which we participate in God鈥檚 ongoing gift: that Love by which He holds us unarguably in existence.
From the outside, it might look as if nothing bothered Therese, or as if she was somehow immune to temptation. But when I think about what it takes to seize the moment with determined love, I recognize a stubborn joy that acknowledges – and flatly refuses to be turned away by –聽the unpleasant aspect of an experience. It鈥檚 more like athletic strength, muscled and deliberate, than a show of virtuosity. Therese, after all, was no less human than the rest of us; her virtue is most heroic in that she had to choose it at every opportunity.聽鈥淚 can prove my love only by scattering flowers, that is to say, by never letting slip a single little sacrifice, a single glance, a single word; by making profit of the very smallest actions, by doing them for love,鈥 she wrote.
When I think about it, I have to remember that even a 鈥渓ittle flower鈥 holds a fierce root grip in the earth, drawing from its聽particular circumstances life-giving water. Its聽leaves have the power to transform light into food, and its聽color and fragrance attract in order to pollinate, enriching the complex system of relationships in which it聽grows. While certainly the prospect of drifting rose petals is a lovely one, the reality of root and pollen, sap and fiber, fill me with renewed hope. And when I receive a rose from my sister and friend, Therese, it reminds me of the energetic grace teeming in the soil and atmosphere of daily circumstances: in all its challenging, uncomfortable, and glorious reality.
So when we face the crosses of our daily lives (and we all have them), let’s seize the opportunity to transform each one with love, as St. Therese did. We, too, can relish the opportunity to live with our whole hearts, even (or especially) in situations that seem rough, difficult, or undignified. Remember – the battle is already won!
