If you look closely, you can kind of see what the Vietnamese children are looking at in the picture above. Looking at it myself, I see men in black soutanes standing around, or so it appears, which makes me think the children are looking at Marcel and some of his Redemptorist brothers!

Marcel himself, on the other hand, is looking over our shoulders at his sister's book, Story of a Soul. We're reading Chapter Four in this fourth-month-of-the-year, and he, for one, is anxious to start! Is it really the last day of April? It's been so much Easter around here, that it seemed to me the month we're in must be Easter!

It's actually both April and Easter, but while Easter will long be with us (a good six more weeks), April is on its way out. May is sneaking up on us, and we've almost missed our Marcel Book Club meeting for this month! Thank Heaven, my guardian angel (or maybe it was Marcel's) shook me out of my sugar stupor, I mean my Easter reverie, and reminded me before it was too late. Just barely before it's too late, but hey, we're here and I'm grateful!

Having been reminded, it's now my turn to remind you: Chapter Four of Story of a Soul is our book club reading, and since time (April 2019 time) is running out, we'll dive in without so much as a day's lead time. No dipping our toes in and taking it step by step - it's into the deep end with one big splash! Ready? Grab a mug of your favorite beverage (coffee? tea? grog?), and let's see what our sister has for us today. 

Unlike last month when I started with a complaint that our March chapter encompassed "The Distressing Years," this month there's so much joy and beauty that it's hard to know where to begin. 

How about we start at the beginning, a very good place to start . . . where almost the first thing Therese tells us is the wonderful story of her name.

She was named at birth and baptism for the great St. Teresa of Jesus, that is Teresa of Avila, the reformer of the Carmelites in the 16th century, "La Madre," the one who will be Therese's holy mother in Carmel​. Understandably, Therese tells us she doesn't want to change her name when she enters, I think because you can't get more Carmelite than being named Teresa. Did you know that the Carmelites boast about a ton of St. Teresas? (This is not a reflection on the size and weight of individual Carmelites, but rather a comment on their number!)

In our century alone - oops, I mean in the one we just (19 years or so ago) left behind us - we had St. Teresa of the Andes, St. Teresia Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein), and St. Therese, the Little Flower. Before them, we can count St. Teresa Margaret Redi as well as the "Big Teresa," and something tells me I'm missing a few more. Anyhow, you get the idea, and you can see why little Therese Martin didn't want to have a brand new name in Carmel, but she did have her druthers about the religious title that would be added to her "Sister So-and-So" name. She writes:

"All of a sudden, I thought of Little Jesus whom I loved so much, and I said: 'Oh! how happy I would be if they called me Therese of the Child Jesus!'" 

This sudden thought came when Therese was preparing for the family's first visit to her sister Pauline, the second oldest of the Martin girls (just under Marie) but the first to enter Carmel. The Carmelite sisters there already knew that Pauline's littlest sister Therese wanted to become a Carmelite too someday, and so it must have been fun for them to talk with her (the little Therese) on that first family visit to Pauline.

Still, during the visit, Therese mentioned nothing of her idea regarding her hoped for religious name. And then, to her delight, "To good Mother Marie de Gonzague [the prioress], who was asking the Sisters what name I should be given, came the idea of calling me by the name I had dreamed about. My joy was great and this happy meeting of minds seemed to be a singular favor from my beloved Child Jesus."

Well if that doesn't beat all!!

Yes, it's marvelous that Mother Marie had the same inspiration as Therese, but what really thrills me is Therese's "thought of Little Jesus whom I loved so much."

Names are funny things. Or perhaps brains are funny things! Speaking for myself, I so typically think of a name as merely what something (or someone) is called, that very often the deeper significance of the name escapes me.

With Therese's name, I often forget that "of the Child Jesus" is referring to Little Jesus. And then suddenly, reading the opening of Chapter Four and Therese's love for "Little Jesus," I thought of Marcel. She's talking about little Jesus whom she loved so much - but He's the very one Marcel loves so much too! No wonder he said after reading her autobiography, "Never in my life have I met a book which was so well adapted to my thinking and feelings," and "I can confess that the story of Therese's soul is the story of my soul, and that Therese's soul is my very own." (Marcel's Autobiography, 579.) 

Marcel speaks, too, of his relief in reading the opening pages of Story of a Soul, where his dilemma about wanting to be a great saint was so handily and speedily dissolved by St. Therese. But in this month's pages, I thought of the increased joy Marcel must have felt when in Chapter Four he encountered the following words of Therese:

​"When reading the accounts of the patriotic deeds of French heroines, especially the Venerable Joan of Arc, I had a great desire to imitate them, and it seemed I felt within me the same burning zeal with which they were animated, the same heavenly inspiration. Then I received a grace which I have always looked upon as one of the greatest in my life . . . I considered that I was born for glory and when I searched out the means of attaining it, God inspired in me the sentiments I have just described. He made me understand my own glory would not be evident to the eyes of mortals, that it would consist in becoming a great saint! This desire could certainly appear daring if one were to consider how weak and imperfect I was, and how, after seven years in the religious life, I still am weak and imperfect. I always feel, however, the same bold confidence of becoming a great saint because I don't count on my merits since I have none, but I trust in Him who is Virtue and Holiness. God alone, content with my weak efforts, will raise me to Himself and make me a saint, clothing me in His infinite merits."

Ah, yes, Marcel, well might you look over our shoulder as we read these pages you have loved so much. I begin to suspect it was you, little brother, rather than an angel of yours or ours, who woke me to remind me of your Book Club this month . . .

For here we find, too, among other treasures and graces, Therese's memories of her First Holy Communion. And how her words remind me of yours, Marcel!

Therese writes: "Ah! How sweet was that first kiss of Jesus! It was a kiss of love; I felt that I was loved, and I said, 'I love You, and I give myself to You forever!' There were no demands made, no struggles, no sacrifices; for a long time now Jesus and poor little Therese looked at and understood each other. That day, it was no longer simply a look, it was a fusion; there were no longer two. Therese had vanished as a drop of water in the immensity of the ocean. Jesus alone remained. He was the Master, the King."

Marcel writes: "Finally, Jesus arrives. I gently put out my tongue to receive the bread of Love. My heart feels an extraordinary joy. I do not know what to say . . . from that moment it was as if my soul was swallowed up in Love's delights. If I did not speak it was simply because I could not find the word to express myself. More than that, my souls was still enraptured in the presence of God's immensity, before whom I am only an unworthy nothingness, and if I realize that I still exist, my being is nothing other than Jesus residing in me. In an instant I have become a drop of water lost in the immense ocean. Now only Jesus remains: and me - I am only the little nothing of Jesus and Jesus makes Himself only one with me."

There is a difference in their experiences, though, and I enjoy it because it illustrates that our emotions are unpredictable but beautiful, and always our own. Marcel said (where I put in the ellipses above, that is, the " . . . "), "I can no longer shed a single tear to express all the happiness with which my soul was swallowed up in Love's delights." (Autobiography, 88)

Whereas Therese, in so many things his mirror and twin, experienced just the opposite that day with regard to tears. Referring to herself in the third person, she writes, "Her joy was too great, too deep for her to contain, and tears of consolation soon flowed, to the consternation of her companions . . . They did not understand that all the joy of Heaven having entered her heart, this exiled heart was unable to bear it without shedding tears."

When I think of Therese and Marcel, I think of laughter, kisses, and tears. All are plentiful! And how lovely that on this day of their first Communions, they could agree, whether accompanied by tears of happiness or dry eyes:

"Ah! my joy was without any bitterness . . . my joy was tranquil and nothing came to disturb my interior peace." (Therese)

and 

"The morning of my first communion passed without any shadow of sadness." (Marcel)

I remember when my older son was making his First Holy Communion, and I thought that if I prepared him well, his experience would be just like Therese's (I didn't know Marcel yet). It was a beautiful day, but from what I could tell, nothing like Therese's! It was only much later that I realized these beautiful felt graces (such as Therese and Marcel experienced at their First Communions) were just that - lovely gifts of God, and up to Him to dispense.

Interestingly, I have read Padre Pio saying, "Ask Him that He may be sensibly felt!" in Holy Communion. This fascinates me! It surprises me! And yet, why not?

Most wonderfully, while Therese talks about how she longed for Him, and yet could not receive Him often, we are so lucky to, as a matter of course, receive Him every Sunday! What strength for the week - and what a relatively short wait for Him to come to us again, especially because, if circumstances allow, we can actually receive Him every day. This is thanks to Pope St. Pius X (the one who called Therese "the greatest Saint of modern times" before she was even beatified), who instituted the custom of frequent and daily Communion not long after Therese died. She didn't waste time when she got to Heaven; she wanted to procure for the rest of us this grace of graces (frequent union with our Beloved) which she had suffered from not receiving.

When describing his First Communion, Marcel adds that he and the other children were given prescribed prayers to say. He explains that because of the teaching he received, he had lost the habit he had as a smaller child, the habit of spontaneous conversation with Jesus. And this loss was so great that, as he puts it, God had to later send a saint, namely Therese, to re-teach it to him. 

At the Easter Vigil there is a wondrous hymn called the Exsultet, and in it is a line I wait for whenever I'm brave enough to go to the Vigil! It goes like this:

"Oh happy fault, which gained for us so great a Redeemer!"

Similarly I must sing now: "Oh happy mistake (Marcel being taught to say only prescribed prayers), which gained for us so great an instructor in prayer! (Therese!)" 

And not only St. Therese, but Our Lord and Our Blessed Mother!

I imagine I must have told you in one or another of the previous posts here that when I looked forward to reading Conversations (before I had it in hand), I couldn't wait for the conversations between Therese and Marcel. I wanted to know what she told him, how she led him along her Little Way. But when I began reading, I found myself most of all entranced by Our Lord's conversations with Marcel, His instructions, and next to His, Our Lady's. I do love when Therese makes an appearance, but the order of my favorites delights me - though I didn't make any rules for myself and didn't expect this order!

While Marcel couldn't relax in his young-Van conversations with Jesus, Therese was having a different problem. As she tells us in this chapter, she was plagued with scrupples, and if you think I've misspelled the word, you've definitely missed a previous post. There I explained that there's a hair salon near me with the unfortunate name of "Scrupples." I can't decide if it's a type of teasing name, like our local salon "Vanity," or if the proprietor is a Mrs. Scrupples!

One of my favorite passages in Story of a Soul comes at the end of this month's Chapter Four. Therese has told about how she depended entirely on her oldest sister and godmother, Marie, for help with her scrupples, but Marie enters the Carmel where Pauline is, and Therese is left alone with her problem. Except that we are never alone! She turns to her four blessed brothers and sisters - those born before her who died in infancy or childhood and who are awaiting her in Heaven. 

She writes, "Their departure for Heaven did not appear to me as a reason for forgetting me; on the contrary, finding themselves in a position to draw from the divine treasures, they had to take peace for me from these treasures and thus show me that in Heaven they still knew how to love!"

Whereas Marie helped her, day by long and painful day, worry by excruciating worry, scrupple by doggone scrupple for a year and a half, with her "four angels" it was a different story. "The answer was not long in coming, for soon peace came to inundate my soul with its delightful waves, and I knew then that if I was loved on earth, I was also loved in heaven. Since that moment, my devotion for my little brothers and sisters has grown and I love to hold dialogues with them frequently, to speak with them about the sadness of our exile, about my desire to join them soon in the Fatherland!"

Do you know someone in Heaven? Someone that maybe you never met on earth, but with whom you share a special bond? Or perhaps you were blessed to know this person on earth, but he or she left too soon (with those we love, it's always too soon if they go first!). Maybe you too have a sibling already there, or a child, or a parent (or an uncle, aunt, or cousin, godparent, grandparent, friend, confessor?). 

While we need our loved ones on earth, and nothing can replace a listening ear, an understanding heart, a loving gaze - still it's wonderful to know that those we love in Heaven (and who love us so much more than we can imagine) are in an even better position to help us. Therese has shown us this, and she is such a twin soul with Marcel because (as we see so often in his words) she doesn't stand on ceremony. She's quite plain spoken and persuasive with a childish candor. She tells us about her petition to her saintly siblings:

"I spoke to them with the simplicity of a child, pointing out that being the youngest of the family, I was always the most loved, the most covered with my sisters' tender cares, that if they had remained on earth, they, too, would have given me proofs of their affection." 

Then she explains, as we have seen, that in heaven they must remember her even more!
So too with those we love and who have loved us!
So too really with everyone in heaven!

No wonder Jesus was unapologetic about sticking Marcel with St. John Eudes for his New Year's Saint, though Marcel wanted Therese again. She would always be closest to him, but Jesus wanted him to know (and wants us to know) that there is a whole world of people up there who love us and are ready to shower favors upon us. Jesus wants us, too, to say by experience, "I knew then that if I was loved on earth, I was also loved in heaven."

I can hardly list all the things I've skipped between Therese's first Holy Communion and her victory over scrupples: her confirmation, her experience as a boarder at school, her lessons with Madame Papinau, what she went through to become a Child of Mary, her story of the physician and his sons, her application of this to herself to show that she hopes to love even more than Mary Magdalene! I hope you won't let the end of April keep you from reading the whole of Chapter Four if you haven't had a chance yet!

What shall we say of May? Because it's Mary's month, Marcel enjoyed calling it "Mother" as in "tomorrow is Mother 1st" rather than calling tomorrow May 1st! Either way, tomorrow is St. Joseph's day again (hooray!), and what a perfect way to begin the days of Our Lady. He is one of those in heaven who loves you very much! Ask him for a favor - and tell him you love him too!

We began with Little Jesus, and despite it being Easter, I'd love to pray to Him now, with Therese and Marcel and you!

Little Jesus, O Petit Jesus, draw me, we will run!!

Oh! but before I go, here is the holy card that St. Therese mentions twice in Chapter Four, the image that did her so much good: The little flower of the Divine Prisoner. May you be His little flower too!

Happy Easter Thursday! This octave is flying by, but each day is part of our Easter Solemnity - one long alleluia, one long rejoicing, one long Day of Resurrection!

I've been noticing that each of our liturgies this week includes a Resurrection appearance - so far all from the very first Easter Sunday. It's as if the Church in her maternal wisdom knew that we needed many separate days (with sleep in between) to absorb just the first day of Jesus' resurrected life! Ah, He is the same yesterday, today, and forever, with the emphasis (today) on Today! That eternal victory, that endless life He has opened up for us, claimed for us in His own glorified body, and holds safely in His wounded side for us, till the day He gives us that first real big smacker (Kiss!!)!!!

But enough waxing eloquent. I owe you some lyrics! If you recall from our last post, we are enjoying Souris et Chante (Smile and Sing!) this Easter. You can scroll down to it if you need a refresher or the link to the French song being sung so joyfully by little French children - and I hope that even without my giving you the rest of the words, you've been able to "La-la-la" with them in Easter joy!

Here is the link to the song, so you won't have to scroll down. You need to save your energy for lifting a chocolate croissant to your sweet mouth. It's a challenge, but we've got to feast as well as sing!

Souris et chante!

And now here are the lyrics they are singing in French, with the English translation beside each line. Forgive me for giving you the French without accent marks, but you'll still be able to follow, I hope.

Oh, but first, something delightful! "Souris" in French turns out to mean two possible things. It can be a command to smile (a friendly, cheerful command, such as Therese addressed to Marcel and Marcel addresses to us!), but it can also mean . . . mouse! How perfect and fun is that? Marcel is like the little Mighty Mouse of the Little Way! So yes, dear little mouse, smile!

Okay. Now you're ready for my rough translation. Well not so rough, because unlike google translate, I am translating "Souris" here as "Smile!" (rather than mouse!) - so here goes:

Souris et chante!  [Smile and sing!]
Pourquoi t'inquieter, [Why worry?}
Jesus est la! {Jesus is here!]

Souris et chante!  [Smile and sing!]
Cesse de pleurer et leve-toi!   [Stop crying and get up!]

Souris et chante!  [Smile and sing!]
Pourquoi t'inquiter, [Why worry?]
Jesus t'attend!  [Jesus is waiting for you!]

Souris et chante!  [Smile and sing!]
Chasse la tristesse,  [Chase the sadness]
va de l'avant!  [Go ahead!] 

La saintete c'est une vie ou il faut changer sa tristesse en joie.
[Holiness is a life where you change your sadness into joy.]
Petit frere, ne te decourage pas, mais souris a la vie!
[Little brother, don't be discouraged, but smile at life!]

Souris et chante! (repeat from beginning....)

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And now, I'm going to post this before it poofs into thin air!
You've been waiting long enough to know what it is the children are singing, what it is that Therese taught Marcel and now Marcel and Therese are teaching us. Smile and sing, and chase away sadness! May all your Easter moments be joyful - and if that sadness creeps up on you, well, little mouse, smile and sing! Before you know it, you will even laugh!

I've been wanting to mention (again) that the days this year are so extra special because they match up exactly with the days of 1946 when Marcel wrote his Conversations for us.

To make it even specialer (!) I found out on Easter that this is the first time since 1946 that Easter was on April 21st, and so forth (backwards and forwards from the Great Feast) for all these 2019 dates and those in 1946 (same Palm Sunday, same Holy Thursday, same Good Friday, same Easter Thursday, etc.) Marvelous!!! If you don't yet have your copy of Convos in order to read along, day by exact same day, here is another link - I can't get over the "$25 and it will be in your mailbox possibly tomorrow!" I feel just like Blessed Solanus Casey, who used to recommend his fave book, The Mystical City of God, regardless of its cost, for it brought him such spiritual treasure. Yes, we are in need of spiritual treasure, and I can't help but recommend again the book in which I find the fullness of Jesus' riches:

Conversations

And with that, let's pray, and then smile and sing!

O Petit Jesus, draw us, we will run!!!

Happy Easter! It's here - it's happened - Jesus is risen and we get to eat eclairs!

If there is ANYTHING getting you down today, it's time to smile and sing, because for once it's not actually about us, except in the best possible way. HE loves us! Beyond our wildest dreams! And after His crazy suffering (don't ask me why - He's a mystery!), He has done something we can really appreciate - He has conquered death and sin forever! Vanquished! Done with! Over! Yesterday's news!

Today? Today is a new day lasting 8 days, then 6 more weeks (7 total including the octave) and then - forever! We have entered His new creation! It is "the 8th day" today - God has rested in the tomb, and now He is out and about, greeting friends old and new, loving us to eternity and beyond (if there were such a thing as beyond eternity!)....

I was so tired last night that I wondered if He could do it again. Could He rise without my help? Could He bring Easter joy - to the whole world and to me too?

Well when I woke very early, here is what Marcel and Therese did - they sang this very happy song for me! And now, by God's grace and the magical internet, we can sing it for you too!

Our apologies if French is not your first language (oops) - but you'll enjoy it no matter what language you usually speak (Arabic? Mandarin? Canadian?) and so here it is for your listening and singing pleasure. The main point is "Souris et chante" which means Smile and Sing! And then the lyrics also contain great advice about not being disturbed or troubled because.....Jesus is here! Jesus is listening! (Tell Him everything! That's our advice today!) You can stop crying and chase away your sadness, because voila! Sanctity is a little way of turning sadness into joy! 

But if that doesn't move you it is only because I'm bad at translating and more importantly, I'm not singing it to you yet! So click on the link below for EASTER JOY (and don't forget the eclair, or other appropriate substitute) - HE IS RISEN AS HE SAID!!!!

Oh and one more thing: If you can't sing along yet due to not knowing the song (yet), don't worry - you can join in for the "la-la-la"s!

And now, for the whole world we pray today:
Draw me, risen Jesus, and we will RUN!!!!!!!!
and smile, and sing!!!

Oh, and one more one-more-thing:
A VERY HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY to Miss Marcel Michigan and to my father-in-law too!
May Marcel and Therese shower you with heavenly roses this whole birthday Day, Octave, and Season! You hit the jackpot this year!!

And now, click on the title below (souris et chante), then when you're transported to the musical place, give one more click, and then smile and sing!!

SOURIS ET CHANTE

And Happy Easter from all of us here at Miss Marcel's Musings!

Let me begin by saying I've wanted to write this post for several weeks now. "Lent for Little Ones" is such a sweet, alliterative, and happily hopeful title! You might feel, though, like I do, that it would have been nice to have such a post some time ago, rather than just now as we're hitting the home stretch. Isn't it a little late for this sort of thing? 

Believe me, 5 and 6 weeks ago I needed this advice as much as you did, but Jesus had other ideas, and since God's timing is always perfect, I'm trusting in Jesus' words to Marcel not to worry when he couldn't write. Though a big part of our little brother's mission was to write for us, not writing was another way of pleasing God, and no less beneficial and salvific (for Marcel and us) than his writing has been. I hope the same is true for me!

So thank You, Jesus. Thank You for Your perfect plan, Your infinite delicacy, Your tender solicitude, and thank You for keeping our post safe in Your Sacred Heart until now. Not only is Your timing perfect in a sort of "God always knows best" kind of way, but I'm especially grateful to have the chance to write in Holy Week, when Little Ones most especially need to know how it would most please You for us to proceed.

This is a big question, isn't it? As little ones, our main task it to delight Jesus, and in this week of His suffering and dying for us, we might find ourselves at a loss. We are so small. Is there anything we can do, ought to do, possibly should not do, in order to make Jesus smile? Can He smile this week?

The answer to these questions and the truth of Holy Week for Little Ones is contained in the picture at the top of this post. If you peek up at it again, you'll see something perhaps surprising, but oh so real, and the secret to our relationship with Jesus, this week and every week. We can see in that picture that we're not consoling Jesus, but He's consoling us.

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I am not great at thinking about or understanding suffering. I do not love the cross. I don't want to be sad. And if I am sad (or in pain, which is different from sadness, but which I dislike with equal vehemence), the last thing I want to do is think about Jesus' suffering. My own is already more than enough and in some ways far too much for me without "adding to it" what Jesus suffered.

This is why I love Jesus' beautiful revelation about revelation, the one He made within His thanksgiving to the Father which Matthew recorded in chapter 11 of his gospel, right there at the end (just before chapter 12 begins). There we find Jesus proclaiming aloud:

"I praise thee, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou didst hide these things from the wise and prudent, and didst reveal them to little ones."

What things? Oh, all sorts of wonderful things! More wonderful than you can guess, which is why He talked so much with Marcel and asked him to write their words down for us. Jesus revealed many of these things to St. Therese about fifty years before He revealed them to Marcel, but then He couldn't restrain Himself from revealing them again and in more detail to Marcel (with Therese's help). Why? Because, as He says in Conversations (39):

"I do not know what human language to employ to translate the full intimacy of this love [the love that I bear for souls]. The intimate words that I address as well to other souls, I borrow from the language that people ordinarily use to express their feelings. If I used the intimate language that is more suitable for me to use when speaking to you, you would understand nothing. Indeed, my child, humanly speaking, my words are the expression of the deepest love, but I, I regard them as being only a simple glance of my love. My child, I do not know what words to use to succeed in making you understand more. Little one, do you understand? Allow me to explain things to you still more clearly. If I spoil you to that extent, can you wish for more?" 

And then Jesus says the words that we've been waiting to hear, the words that put to rest any lingering scrupples on our part, the words that He became man to convey. Interestingly, these are words that little ones (and big ones) don't usually imagine Him saying during Holy Week, and yet He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Once a word is true for Jesus, it is true forever. Furthermore, everything He suffered in His passion and death was a result of His passion for us, and simply another way to show us His infinite love. But don't take my word for it, take His. Here is what He says in Conversations (40), just following what we quoted above:

"Firmly believe that I am always pleased with you . . . Be at peace, you have not offended me . . . Listen, therefore, I am speaking to you. Little child of my love, my love can never be measured. My love for you my child, and for souls, is still hidden; it is impossible for me to show it completely in this world. The day when one will see love, when one will be united eternally to love, is the only day when one will succeed in understanding it clearly. Has your sister Therese not told you, 'My love alone remains eternally'?"

Yes, it is true! And if I lived a million years, I could never thank God enough for His conversations with Marcel, for Fr. Boucher translating them into French (from Marcel's Vietnamese pages), for Jack Keogan translating them into English, for Les Amis de Van publishing these words in French and English and making them internationally available. Why? To delight the Heart of Jesus by inspiring more eternal praise of His Father; to fulfill Jesus' words which were not only about the past, but about the future; to continue to enlighten the little ones and reveal to us what He has hidden from the wise and learned.

For in Conversations, we find every truth of the Gospel that we need to hear, and we find this Truth repeated, explicated, re-stated in other words, and expanded upon without measure. Here, too, in Conversations the little ones (that's us) can find, again and again, the limitless Love of God poured out (the Holy Spirit Himself), with no impediments to stop the flow of this Love from whooshing into our thirsting hearts, souls, minds, and bodies.

Jesus has neglected nothing in His chats with Marcel, and so for little ones, for each season, each mood, each week and day of the year, we have ample food and drink, sustenance, nourishment, and in short, all that we need, contained in the pages of one single book. 

Today, for instance, in Holy Week. 
The Little One asks, bewildered: What shall I do? What should I expect?
 
For starters, as our picture illustrates above, we can expect Jesus to console us more than we will console Him. And His words to us through Marcel bear this out. The passage that follows is taken from the 5th of April, 1946, (369) of Conversations. Here is what God has hidden from the learned and deigned to reveal to the little ones. It knocks me out every time I read it! 

Jesus: Little Marcel, my life has been one of suffering; but I have never been sad at having to suffer. So, my life must be called a painful life but not an unhappy life. If I had been sad about my suffering, how could I now exhort you to be joyful when you encounter suffering? Marcel, you must never believe that I was sad at having to suffer. Do not be troubled if you hear such a thing said. Listen carefully to what I am saying to you. If I was sad about my sufferings, does it not seem that I would have shown less joy in sacrificing myself for souls than these souls have shown in making sacrifices for me? . . . Never have I been sad: on the contrary, I have always been as joyful as a child who is delighted with consolations. If, at that time, I had been sad because of my suffering, I would be even more so in the sacrament of the Eucharist . . . No, little Marcel, it is not like that. The more I sacrificed myself for souls, the more I wished to sacrifice myself, more and more. And, in fact, that is something that Love alone is capable of understanding. You, little Marcel, you are not able to understand it.

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Note how logical Jesus is!

"If I was sad about my sufferings, does it not seem that I would have shown less joy in sacrificing myself for souls than these souls have shown in making sacrifices for me?"

But note too how, whether or not we appreciate His logic, He does not expect us to understand the mystery He reveals to us. He simply wants us to know it, without understanding it.

"And, in fact, that is something that Love alone is capable of understanding. You, little Marcel, you are not able to understand it."

If this seems contradictory or impossible - to know His mysteries without understanding them -  remember that among the seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit which we receive at Confirmation, knowledge and understanding are two distinct gifts. Not to mention our firm belief in the articles of the Creed, our very life, which frequently (perhaps necessarily) we hold without much understanding. And finally, if I might venture an example: Don't we often know, with deep gratitude and daily wonder, that someone (a spouse, for instance, or a parent, or a child, or a friend) loves us with great love, although in possession of constant proof of our unworthiness? (Or at least of our grouchiness, crankiness, impatience, etc!)

I, for one, am delighted to believe Jesus. It takes such a load off my mind and heart to know that, as He tells us very directly in the Gospel of these days, it was with desire that He desired to share this Passover with us - by which I understand that He was not sad, but eager to suffer with us so that we would never again have to suffer alone. None of us wants to be in The Pit - and He didn't either ("Father, if this cup may pass . . .") - but if it happens, we are in it together.

One thing that struck me deeply a few days ago when I re-read this passage from April 5th in Conversations (in which Jesus reassures us that He did not suffer with sorrow) was the seeming contradiction with His words to His favored three on Holy Thursday. I couldn't help but remember those words because the Church put them in my mouth in morning prayer, in the antiphon for the first Psalm of Monday of Holy Week.

As Jesus said to Peter, James, and John in the Garden of Gethsemane, and as Holy Mother Church had us repeat: "My heart is nearly broken with sorrow; stay here and keep watch with me."

That is heart wrenching! Nevertheless, or perhaps consequently, I was very relieved when Jesus explained to us (via Marcel) that He did not suffer with sorrow. To repeat His words of April 5th, He said, "Marcel, you must never believe that I was sad at having to suffer. Do not be troubled if you hear such a thing said. Listen carefully to what I am saying to you. If I was sad about my sufferings, does it not seem that I would have shown less joy in sacrificing myself for souls than these souls have shown in making sacrifices for me? . . . Never have I been sad: on the contrary, I have always been as joyful as a child who is delighted with consolations."

What are we to make of this? 

First off, when Jesus says "You must never believe that I was sad at having to suffer. Do not be troubled if you hear such a things said," He certainly does not mean that we shouldn't believe the Gospel. No, the Gospel truth is Gospel Truth, we might say! But rather, if we hear (possibly in a sermon or other commentary on the Gospel) the explanation of His sorrow as being because of His having to suffer, that's what we needn't believe.

Secondly, though, and equally important, these words to Marcel do not mean that Jesus did not suffer. In fact, just before this, a moment earlier in the conversation Jesus explained:

"Little Marcel, my life has been one of suffering . . . "

Then, lest we dwell in sadness at His suffering, He explains:

". . . .but I have never been sad at having to suffer. So, my life must be called a painful life but not an unhappy life. If I had been sad about my suffering, how could I now exhort you to be joyful when you encounter suffering?"

Ah, Love! You are so delicate that You risk our misunderstanding so that we will not rest in sadness even for Your sake!

I think that what's going on - and I give my thoughts here not because I think we'll then understand, exactly, but so that we can believe without fear of error - is that Jesus suffered and yes, sometimes felt sad, but His sadness was not because of His suffering, which He knowingly chose from all eternity out of love for us, and thus suffered with joy, but rather He sometimes felt sad because of the rejection His Love received (and receives).

So when Jesus said on April 5th, "Never have I been sad: on the contrary, I have always been as joyful as a child who is delighted with consolations," He was simply repeating what He'd said a moment earlier - that He had never been sad to suffer. 

As to Jesus being sad sometimes (not at having to suffer, but for other reasons), we have ample proof in the Gospels - such as when, after the death of Lazarus, we read (in John 11): "Mary, when she came where Jesus was and saw Him, fell at His feet, saying to Him, 'Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.' When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and troubled; and He said, 'Where have you laid him?' They said to Him, 'Lord, come and see.'" 

These were the very words Jesus used at the beginning of His ministry - Come and see - and so much had happened since then. But now, St. John tells us that seeing Mary and the others who loved Lazarus weeping,  "Jesus wept." Since He was like us in all things but sin, and since this was a sad occasion (so far - though He will soon make it, as He ultimately makes all occasions, one of immense rejoicing), we can figure that Jesus wept because He was sad.

Lest you fear, now, that Conversations contradicts the Gospel, let me reassure you: in Conversations too we have ample proof that Jesus is sometimes sad - else why would Therese and Mary (and Jesus Himself) spend so much time explaining and reminding Marcel (and us) of all the things we can do to cheer Him up?

This is why I think Jesus is trying to tell us today, as He told Marcel on April 5th, that He is not sad about His suffering - though there may be other reasons for His sadness, and I don't think He denies being sad sometimes. If we can't understand, He's covered that base too. Opening my dear Convos at random, I find this passage (226) where Marcel - our stand-in - complains: "Little Jesus, I understand absolutely nothing." To which Jesus replies with great love and supreme good humor (His words, as always, meant for us too):

"Who is obliging you to understand? Ignorant as you are, how would you be able to understand?" 

That about sums up our situation!! Another proof of God's omniscience, though lesser lights than Divinity could, no doubt, recognize our ignorance in a flash.

The point is: We mustn't worry if we don't understand. Jesus tells us over and over again not to worry, especially about this. And really, especially about everything!

So if you, O Little One, want to know what to do this Holy Week to delight Jesus' most Sacred and Pierced Heart, and even to make Him smile, here is my advice:

Read the first sentence of John: !4. and let that be your Word. It isn't very long, and thus not very hard to remember, though you may want to repeat it to yourself, to your guardian angel, and/or to Jesus about a hundred times, give or take a few. This sentence came from Truth Himself on Holy Thursday night, Truth who, as St. Thomas tells us in our Holy Thursday hymn (in Gerard Manley Hopkins' translation) "speaks truly or there's nothing true." Just like every particle of the Blessed Sacrament He gave us is fully and completely all of Himself, so this Word of the first sentence of John 14 contains within it the whole of Truth.

For your convenience, here it is:

"Do not let your hearts be troubled."

There - how easy! Do not let your hearts be troubled. This is Jesus' advice to us, spoken this time to His dear Apostles, recorded by His beloved among them, given as a Word for them to hold onto during that first Holy Triduum, at the very outset of His greatest failure and triumph.

Whether we read Jesus' words in Marcel's Conversations (second best book in the world) or in the Bible (best book in the world), His message is the same. He chose to suffer for love of us, but He doesn't want us to worry about anything. And just as He repeats Himself to Marcel (and us) in Conversations, so too, a little later in His discourse at the Last Supper He repeats His urgent reassurance to the Apostles (and to us), but with even more words:

Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.

He also promises us His peace, and I join little Marcel in praying that this ineffable peace will fill and surround you this Holy Week and into Easter. 

We hope you have the privilege of spending some time with Jesus in the next few days, but let it be in peace and consolation. No need for scrupples, little one! Believe me, Jesus will be consoled that you are with Him for any moments He allows you to spend in His company, and He definitely wants you to be at peace knowing that He is with you, even in those moments when you aren't consciously with Him. He loves you! That's the truth of this week: He loves you, and when one is so completely loved, there is no reason to be afraid.

We love You too, Jesus!

Draw me, we will run!!



​

First off, for those who don't read French, that title above says (entirely in English): "Why 54 in 2019 is very amusing, funny, entertaining, enjoyable, humorous, lovely, and spry". 

Spry? Well, google translate and I are very thorough. We don't want to miss any possible nuances, and you know what they say. . . Try as we do to translate accurately, there's so often that je ne sais quoi - a quality that can't be described or named easily. (Not to mention accent marks. If you do read French, please imagine an accent mark above the "e" in Tres!)

In this case, universal merriment has again visited the earth in honor of my favorite feast of the year (bigger than Easter? bigger than Christmas? well, technically, no, but my fave nonetheless), which came on Sunday, which meant no mail on The Day, but happily, we're in the octave now, and yesterday Marcel's gift arrived!

It came from France, through Belgium, then by way of England, and finally through Van Nuys, California to Santa Paula where I live. What a journey! 

Having completed my 54th year (what a journey too!), I have now entered my 55th year, but due to a glitch in the way these things are formulated (along the lines of the 13th century being the 1200's), I am now a spry 54 - hence the "54 in 2019" (2019 being the age of the world since Our Lord's merciful Incarnation) - and so far, so good! Tres amusant, as we might say in French.

And speaking French is a good idea because now that Marcel is in Heaven, he knows French perfectly. Merci beaucoup, petit frere Marcel! I love the book and CD and especially the children singing!! Thank you for the kiss, and please thank our sister Therese too!

So what did Marcel send? Here's a link (in the line below) where you can see for yourself:

Van: Dis-nous en qui tu crois! (1 CD audio, French) Hardcover

It's a children's book - the same one Marcel helped me find on my kindle e-reader one middle-of-the-night a while back when I couldn't sleep. I love this book on my kindle, but yesterday it materialized on my doorstep as a REAL book with beautiful and vivid pictures (pastels, I think they are) AND an accompanying audio CD so that I can listen - in French! - as I "read" along.

I put "read" in quotation marks because I'm like a little French pre-reader listening and following along as best I can. To say I'm reading along is only half true, but I'm having so much fun!

Best of all, though - better than the bright and beautiful pictures which I love, and better than the wonderful man who reads with such a gentle and perfectly French voice, and somehow even better than the marvelous background music that matches the mood of each part of the story - is that some of my favorite parts of the book, parts which I thought were poems since they're set off in special boxes and kind of look like poetry, well . . . they're actually songs! And the CD has French children singing them! And the music is so pretty, and the children so adorable! No wonder Jesus loves everything about children - how could He help it?

What's especially winsome about the book (besides the many wonderful things I've mentioned already) is the way the authors tell Marcel's story: lovingly, charmingly, humorously, poignantly, delicately, kindly, smilingly, and (in short) perfectly!

Take their section on Marcel's conversations with Jesus . . . the authors had so many conversations to choose from . . . Yet, wonderfully, they were so in tune with Divine Providence and my own friendship with Marcel (and, too, my personal calendar of feasts) that last night as I marveled over a full page illustration of Marcel with a banana, I realized - aha! They had taken Marcel and Jesus' banana conversation from April 8th, the very day the book arrived at my house, the very night I was enjoying again Marcel's and my mutual love of bananas! How about that for the Limitless Love of God reaching down to orchestrate the smallest details of creation, authorship - Divine and human - and worldwide shipping so that His littlest ones might smile in awe and delight!

If you don't remember the conversations of April 8, 1946, I recommend them to you, along with all the conversations of the first week of April. Every day for the past week I have wanted to quote for you here snippets of the beautiful colloquies between our little brother and our True Love and His mama and little Therese. Alas, God had other plans and kept me from posting until today, and I think I know why . . . 

I'm guessing that He couldn't bear to have me choose some passages of Conversations to transcribe for you and not every word, every page, every day, the whole book! Which is His way of nudging you, His way of saying (I'm guessing here, but see what you think) that if you don't yet have your own copy of Conversations, it might be the perfect time to get one. Late Lent? Early Easter? Octave of Miss Marcel's birthday? Octave of the banana conversations?

Not to brag, but wasn't that restrained of me? It is Lent, a traditional time of moderation, so I'm not shouting at the top of my lungs, "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR????? THE END IS NEAR!!! ORDER CONVERSATIONS NOW, BEFORE IT"S TOO LATE!!!"

Whew! Aren't you glad I didn't take that approach? It's terrible to be yelled at, even in such a good cause, so I'm going to simply whisper chummily: "Hullo! If you have the chance to procure Convos and haven't yet, please do, dear chappie. You won't regret it, and if you do, just "contact me" in the sidebar, and I'll buy your copy from you so you haven't wasted your money or - more importantly - a copy of the Best Book After The Gospels." Here's a link:

Conversations (with Jesus, Mary, and Therese) transcribed by our little brother Marcel Van

Little did I know that just by finding that link for you I would be tempted to buy another copy myself! Only $25 and it arrives tomorrow! Okay, just took it out of my cart so it will be there waiting for YOU!

Meanwhile, time for our little prayer, and lest I forget: Thank You, Jesus, for bananas! (Permission to all readers now given to eat TWO bananas - one for you and one for little Jesus, who explained on April 8, 1946 that He did not, in fact, eat bananas while on this earth, but is glad to enjoy one through us when we enjoy them now!)

Draw me, we will run!