The tender poem “To My Little Brothers in Heaven, the Holy Innocents” by St. Thérèse of Lisieux is a reflection on the beauty and purity of the Holy Innocents — the infants martyred by Herod’s decree in an attempt to destroy the Christ Child. Their story, recorded in Matthew’s Gospel (2:16-18), has inspired countless reflections on the profound mystery of innocence and redemption.
In these verses, St. Thérèse paints a vivid and touching portrait of the Holy Innocents as “lambs” gathered tenderly into the arms of Christ. Drawing on Isaiah’s prophecy (“The Lord shall gather together the lambs with His arm, and shall take them up in His bosom” [40:11]) and St. Paul’s teaching in Romans on justification through grace, the poem celebrates the Holy Innocents’ privileged place in the heavenly court. They are crowned not for battles fought, but for their purity and their participation in Christ’s redemptive plan.
St. Thérèse’s imagery is both delicate and radiant: The children’s innocence is likened to fragrant lilies and luminous stars, their playful joy filling the courts of heaven. The Holy Innocents are shown not only as the cherished companions of Christ and the Virgin Mary but also as models of virtue and trust for us. Their unblemished purity and abandonment to God’s will inspire us to strive for childlike candor and faith.
As we contemplate these verses, may they draw us deeper into the mystery of Christ’s nativity and His profound love for the littlest and least.
To my little brothers in heaven, the Holy Innocents
O happy little ones! with what sweet tenderness
The King of Heaven
Blessed you, when here below! How often His caress
To you was given!
You were the type of all the Innocents to come.
In dreams I know
The boundless joy the King gives you in heaven’s high home,
He loves you so!
Before earth’s bitter griefs, dear lilies of the Lord,
Had dimmed your eyes,
You had beheld the gifts, — how very beauteous! — stored
In Paradise.
O fragrant buds, soon plucked at day’s sweet dawning bright,
By God’s own hand;
His Sacred Heart is now the Sun by Whose soft light
Those buds expand!
What perfect care and oh! what ceaseless watchfulness,
What love alway,
Lavishes on you here our Mother Church, to bless
Souls of a day!
In her maternal arms, you were in holy rite
To Jesus given;
And through eternity, you will be the delight
Of His fair Heaven.
Dear little ones! you join the virginal court, in state
Following the Lamb;
And you the sweet new song shall sing (O privilege great!)
Unto His Name.
You to the conqueror’s palm, without the deadly fight,
Have safely come.
O charming victors: Christ from you has taken all blight, And brought you home.
It needs no precious stones, all luminous and gay,
To deck your hair;
The lustre of your curls, sweet Innocents, today,
Makes Heaven more fair.
To you grand martyrs lend their palms; they give their crowns,
Your brows to grace;
Upon their knees you find, dear children, now your thrones,
In their embrace.
In splendid courts on high, with tiny cherub throngs
Gayly you play:
Beloved baby band! your childish sports and songs
Charm heaven alway.
God tells you how He makes the birds, the flowers, the snow,
The sunlight clear;
No genius here below knows half the things you know,
O children, dear!
From Heaven’s azure vault you tear the veils that make
Such mystery:
The glowing myriad stars in your wee hands you take,
Your toys to be.
Running Heaven’s highways, there, your tiny footsteps leave
A silvery trace;
In the bright Milky Way, I think I see, at eve,
Each shining face.
To Mary’s welcoming arms, when your gay games are done,
How swift you hie!
Hiding beneath her veil your heads like Christ Her Son
In sleep you lie.
Heaven’s darling little pets! audacity like this
Delights our Lord;
And you can even dare caress and gently kiss
His Face adored.
That Blessed Lord has deigned you for my pattern here
To give to me;
O Holy Innocents, like you so pure and dear
I strive to be.
Pray, pray, that I may gain all childhood’s graces best, —
Your candor true,
Your sweet abandonment, your innocence so blest,
That charm my view!
Thou, of my exiled soul, O Lord! full well dost know
The ardent prayer.
Fair Lily of the Vale, on Thee I would bestow Earth’s lilies fair;
These buds of spring I love, and long to find for Thee,
Thou King adored!
Grant the baptismal grace to each one tenderly;
Then cull them, Lord!
My pains and my joys I offer with delight, —
For children’s souls:
Thus to augment Thy ranks of Innocents most white,
The while time rolls;
And, ‘mongst these Innocents, I ask Thee that it place
To me be given.
Grant to me, as to them, Thy kiss, O wondrous grace
Jesus! in Heaven.
February, 1897