In 1886, when she was 13 years old, St. Thérèse of Lisieux received a Christmas present she later described as a miracle, a gift of grace that changed her life. Befitting the saint of the “Little Way,” the circumstances could not have been more ordinary. No visions, no crises, no angel choirs — just a moment of holiday excitement, stress and fatigue that would be familiar to any family this time of year.
Prior to that Christmas, Thérèse had been an extremely sensitive child, somewhat pampered by her father, St. Louis Martin, and four older sisters since the death of her mother. As she would explain in her spiritual autobiography, “at this time I was much given to crying, not only over big things, but over trifling ones too. … My extreme sensitiveness made me almost unbearable.” She knew this childishness was a serious impediment to entering religious life but could not correct herself of the fault.
It was a chance remark by her father, tired after midnight Mass, that set the stage for her conversion of heart, described in Chapter 5 of “The Story of a Soul.“
St. Thérèse’s Christmas miracle
“I knew that when we reached home after Midnight Mass I should find my shoes in the chimney-corner, filled with presents, just as when I was a little child, which proves that my sisters still treated me as a baby. Papa, too, liked to watch my enjoyment and hear my cries of delight at each fresh surprise that came from the magic shoes, and his pleasure added to mine. But the time had come when Our Lord wished to free me from childhood’s failings, and even withdraw me from its innocent pleasures. On this occasion, instead of indulging me as he generally did, Papa seemed vexed, and on my way upstairs I heard him say: ‘Really all this is too babyish for a big girl like Thérèse, and I hope it is the last year it will happen.’ His words cut me to the quick. Céline, knowing how sensitive I was, whispered: ‘Don’t go downstairs just yet — wait a little, you would cry too much if you looked at your presents before Papa.’ But Thérèse was no longer the same — Jesus had changed her heart.
“Choking back my tears, I ran down to the dining-room, and, though my heart beat fast, I picked up my shoes, and gaily pulled out all the things, looking as happy as a queen. Papa laughed, and did not show any trace of displeasure, and Céline thought she must be dreaming. But happily it was a reality; little Thérèse had regained, once for all, the strength of mind which she had lost at the age of four and a half.
“On this night of grace, the third period of my life began — the most beautiful of all, the one most filled with heavenly favours. In an instant Our Lord, satisfied with my good will, accomplished the work I had not been able to do during all these years. Like the Apostle I could say: ‘Master, we have laboured all night, and have taken nothing.’
“More merciful to me even than to His beloved disciples, Our Lord Himself took the net, cast it, and drew it out full of fishes. He made me a fisher of men. Love and a spirit of self-forgetfulness took possession of me, and from that time I was perfectly happy.”
