by Jean P. Kelly
“HE SHOWED ME the book of nature, and I understood that every flower created by Him is beautiful, that the brilliance of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not lessen the perfume of the violet or the sweet simplicity of the daisy.”—Therese of Lisieux’s account of a mystical vision
Thanks to the miracle of electronic books, I now know that the word “flower” or its plural occurs almost 100 times in a memoir entitled by its author “The Story of the Springtime of a Little White Flower.” The young woman, who was encouraged to write her life story at the tender age of 23 because of several divine visions like the one above, early in the text shares details of her lifelong love of blooms and buds. The saint who became known as both Therese of Lisieux and Therese of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face recounts a childhood spent picking wildflowers near her home in the Normandy region of France, creating tiny altars in the garden wall or pretend tea offered to her father.
My own fawning over flora likewise began at an early age. When tied together into crowns for my hair, even purple clover in the yard made me feel like a queen. Most vivid of all is a joyous memory of clutching a fistful of tulips collected with the help of my mother, then wrapped carefully in wet paper towels and aluminum foil for the bus ride to school. My beloved first-grade teacher, Sister Collista, gasped and gushed when she saw my bouquet, though by then the red and pink heads drooped down as if taking a morning nap. That didn’t stop me from proudly choosing a vase and installing my offering on the classroom May altar where a statue of the Virgin Mary presided. Only moments later I was humbled by the appearance of another bouquet, one surely purchased from a florist. The stems of Jennifer’s three yellow roses—Sister’s favorite flower—were straight and the tight buds perfectly perky.
Continue reading “The Little Flower of Humility was No Shrinking Violet”
Jean P. Kelly, Intentional Path Media 