Oh adorable Face, which was bathed with tears in thy holy infancy, have pity on ns.

How I love to contemplate thee, august and ruddy Face of the Child Jesus! What sweetness, what modesty, what amiability, impressed on all thy features! But it is above all in the workshop of the poor carpenter of Nazareth, that thy divine Face shines with the sweetest peace, in the midst of the fatigues and of the labors to which thy love condemns thee. May I, whilst contemplating thee, retrace in myself, as in a faithful mirror, this sweet and admirable serenity in the midst of the sufferings of this present life.

1st POINT. — THE LABORS OF JESUS.

I contemplate thee, I adore thee, and I love thee, oh adorable Face of Jesus, bending over the tools appropriate to thy hard labors. “I was poor and in labors from my youth up(1),” thou saidst by the mouth of thy prophet David. Divine repairer of sin, thou camest to teach us the law of suffering, the law of reparation. Every instant of thy youth was employed in material occupations, which had no attraction for the mind, or any feature which commanded itself to the heart. What a lesson for my weakness, my dislikes and my love of repose. But permit me, oh Jesus, to ask thee the subject of thy thoughts, the cause of thy sighs, and of the clouds which pass over thy countenance all bathed in sweat. Little workman of Nazareth, thou thinkest doubtless, in the humble workshop of Joseph, thy foster father, of that other Father who dwells in heaven, the divine architect of the world, shamefully offended by his guilty creature. Casting down thy eyes upon the wood fashioned by thy sacred hands, thou also thinkest that one day it will become the sorrowful instrument of salvation; the standard of thy victory, the scepter of thy empire, and thy peaceful crook to guide towards the divine fold the sheep and the lambs of thy chosen flock.

2nd POINT.— CONSOLATIONS OF THE HOLY FACE.

We know, oh Jesus, that sorrow and joy, suffering and consolation, follow upon one another in the path of Christian life, and are always closely united. Divine model of humanity, thou didst will to taste the one and the other, and in the workshop of Nazareth the angels surrounded thy steps and lightened thy labors. But more attentive, more eager, more loving than the angels of heaven, a visible angel upon earth, a mother, is always close beside thee? Thou helpest Joseph to gain the bread of Mary; but Mary, during thirty-three years, never ceased a moment to console thy heart. Did Mary ever lose a single glance of thy eyes, a single smile of thy lips, a single sigh which thou utterest? Ah! I love to picture to myself this beloved mother, often drawing near to thy adorable Face in the workshop of Nazareth, lovingly drying the sweat which drops from thy brow, and, happier than Veronica, being able during long years to render to thee this sacred duty.

Oh Jesus, permit me to accompany Mary in this pious office, to mingle my love with her love, my rapt attentions with her maternal attentions whilst consoling thy august Face. When overwhelmed as I often am beneath the burden of fatigue and of incessant labor, I will gaze on thy divine Face; the sight of it shall be my model and my help, and do you, oh Mary, cause a ray falling from the Face of Jesus to refresh my heart also, and to give me strength and courage every day to fulfil in this valley of tears the task confided to me. May I soon see my sufferings changed into joys, and my crosses into trophies of victory and of salvation.

SPIRITUAL BOUQUET.

In laboribus a juventute mea.

I have been in labors since my youth. (Ps. lxxxvi, 16.)

SISTER SAINT-PIERRE – HER CHILDHOOD RELATED BY HERSELF

I was born on the 4th October 1816, a day for ever memorable as being that of the death of our holy mother St Theresa, and the feast of St Francis of Assisi, whose name my mother bore. I was baptized in the church of Saint Germain, at Rennes. My patrons were St Pierre and St Francis of Assisi. My mother had a disagreeable bouquet presented to her on the day of her feast, in bringing into the world a little girl destined to cause her so much anxiety by her illnesses and waywardness.

As soon as my reason began to be developed, my good parents, who were eminently pious, gave me a religious education. But I had a very bad character: I was quickly angered, obstinate and very frivolous. My pious mother often took me to church, but my frivolity made me turn my head on all sides to see what was going on. When I allowed my distractions openly to appear and had not paid attention to my mother’s commands, she punished me severely. I was taken to confession when I was six years and a half old, that I might accuse myself of all my faults.

Moreover, I was specially instructed in every thing that had relation to the most blessed Virgin Mary, and examples were given me of the protection afforded by this good mother to her children; and these recitals touched my heart. I began to invoke her, and I became better. I also began to enjoy prayer, and I had no longer to suffer any punishment on my return from high mass on Sundays, because I was more steady. Also when any thing disagreeable presented itself to me, I did violence to myself that I might not dispute about it, and I said— “My God I offer it to thee in reparation for my sins.”

Sent by my good parents to catechism with the little children belonging to the parish, I enjoyed the instructions and my conduct being more edifying compliments soon succeeded to the reproaches I had been accustomed to receive. I moreover began to make the Way of the Cross. Reading about the sufferings of Our Lord touched my heart very keenly, for I thought that my sins were the cause of his sufferings, and I said with a contrite spirit— “Oh my Savior, didst thou know, during thy passion, that the day would come when I should be converted and be wholly thine?” I kissed the ground at every station. Then I returned to the house with dust upon my face, and Our Lord permitted this act of virtue to expose me to a slight humiliation, which caused my weak virtue to be put to a great trial.

Grace attracted me strongly towards God, but I was not constant in welldoing; I often fell, and then rose again. I do not know on what occasion it was that I heard speak of a kind of prayer, called mental prayer, as being more agreeable to God than vocal prayer. I had a great wish to make this kind of prayer, and therefore I said— I will not speak when I say my prayers, and that will be a mental prayer. But, when I had finished, I became a prey to uneasiness, thinking I had not said my morning or evening prayer. Our Lord, beholding my desire, inspired me to think of his sufferings and of my sins; then I wept bitterly, and Our Lord permitted that a little later on I should listen to a sermon which treated of nothing else but meditation, and opened my ears and my heart to so happy a subject, delighted to learn how to practice mental prayer.

INVOCATION.

Oh adorable Savior, who dost please to raise what is looked upon as being the most feeble instrument in the world to make of it an instrument of thy grace, cast a look of compassion on my poor soul. Behold its weakness and poverty, and inspire it, with a desire to know thee, to imitate thee, to follow thee, and by these means to rise step by step, from virtue to virtue, till I gain that summit of the mountain of perfection, which thou dost reveal us by the examples of thy saints.

(1) Pauper sum ego et in laboribus a juventute mea. (Ps. LXXXVII)