JMJT
Jesus
February 20 1893
My darling mother,
How sweet it is for me to be able to give you this name!... You had already been my Mother for a long time, but it was in the secret of my heart that I gave this sweet name to her who was at the same time my Guardian Angel. and my sister ; today the good Lord has consecrated you... you are truly my Mother and you will be so throughout all eternity... Oh! How beautiful this day is for your child!... The veil that Jesus has thrown over this day makes it even more luminous in my eyes, it is the seal of the adorable face, the perfume of the mysterious bouquet, which is spread over YOU. Undoubtedly it will always be like this, "the one whose face was hidden", the one who is still hidden in his little white host and who only communicates himself to souls veiled, will know how to spread over the entire life of the beloved apostle of his divine Face a mysterious veil which He alone can penetrate!...
Yes, the spirit of Mother Geneviève resides entirely within you, and her prophetic word has come true. At the age of thirty you began your public life, was it not you who gave all the Carmels and so many pious souls the consolation of having the touching and poetic detail of the life of our Saint?... But Jesus had already cast his veiled gaze on my dear Mother, and He did not allow her to be recognized, "because her face was hidden"!...
If this day is already so beautiful on earth, what is it not in Heaven? I seem to see our dear Holy Mother, looking happily at her Pauline (the one she loved, the one who attracted her), she sees her become a Mother in her turn, Mother of many virgins among whom are her Sisters. What a mystery...
Now you are going to enter the sanctuary of souls, you are going to spread over them the treasures of graces with which Jesus has showered you. No doubt you will suffer... The vases will be too small to contain the precious perfume that you want to deposit there, but Jesus Himself also has only very small musical instruments to play his melody of love, however He knows how to use of all those presented to him. You will be like Jesus!... Little Sister, dear Mother, my own heart, the heart of your child, is a very small lyre, when you are tired of making the harps vibrate, you will come and take your little lyre and barely have you touched it, it will produce the sounds you desire... at the mere touch of your consecrated fingers it will UNDERSTAND, and its faint melody will mingle with the song of your heart...
O my Mother! how many things I would like to tell you... but no, you know everything... One day, when the shadows have passed, I will rest on your heart and I will repeat this sweet name
My mother
