ELIZABETH & SUFFERING (1899 -1906)

1. Mention of ‘sacrifice’ and ‘suffering’ can be delicate. Please be advised that the description of Sister Elizabeth’s illness by Jennifer Moorcroft (HMH), while being tastefully presented, is nevertheless thorough. Do read it if you feel able to.
2. Where Fr De Meester has been quoted or paraphrased, in translation, any misrepresentation in his intended meaning is unintentional and is regretted.
3. The opinions expressed are those of the site owner and as such may not be assumed to reflect or to represent the official teaching of Holy Mother Church at any time past or present, neither are those opinions intended in any way as criticism by the site owner of Holy Mother Church or her pastors.

BACKGROUND

Introduction.
Previous updates (3,4) have traced Elizabeth Catez’ wish to suffer for Jesus, from her birth (1880) up to 1898, and then from January 1899 up to January 1900. ‘Suffering’ was assumed to cover compassion, adversity, anguish, pain (above a low level of intensity), tribulation, and trouble. The aim of the present update is to complete the picture further by consideration of the 28 months [2] prior to her entry into Carmel, and the 4½ years in Carmel until she entered the infirmary. Attention is given to her attitude to suffering and to the effect of this on her spirituality. Inevitably, reference must be made to her illness. The intention is to keep this brief, while referring the reader to the masterful presentation in HMH.

In Update 3 an overview was presented for the turn of the 19th/20th Century covering: Dijon and its amenities; the emergence of ‘aids’ which would ultimately improve the standard of living; and religious practices of the faithful. Paraphrasing Fr De Meester’s words: to appreciate Elizabeth, one should begin by appreciating the era in which she lived [3]. By the same token, since Elizabeth was now preparing for Carmel, and life in Carmel, one should meet those religious to whom she can turn for spiritual guidance: Father I.G. Vallée; Mother Marie of Jesus; and Mother Germaine of Jesus.

Father I.G.Vallée (1841-1927).
Fr Vallée was a tall man and his apparent size was increased by a voluminous Dominican habit, which frightened not a few religious! One biographer wrote that when he passed, even the convent cat stood to attention [4]! His tall stature often presented problems to those extern sisters who had to find a suitable bed for him. Needless to say, he was much loved by all of the nuns who listened to him preach. Although austere and forbidding while performing his priestly functions; thereafter he became quite relaxed, exhibiting a mischievous sense of humour [5]. It was said that the convents of the Carmelite nuns, more than those of the Dominicans, attracted and retained his apostolate [6].

Fr Vallée was the last Dominican novice to receive his habit from Lacordaire (1860). He was professed in 1861. From 1881-1904 he preached from many pulpits in France, and he had connections with several religious orders. As a result of the religious persecution in France he was expelled from the country in 1904 [7]. He returned to Paris in 1910, and died there in 1927. In an address to mark Fr Vallée’s jubilee in 1921, the preacher summarized his life in the 2 words: ‘meditation’ and ‘devotion’ [8]. In the noviciate he learned the need for prayer and he spent many hours ‘apparently lost in God’; he also learned the need for the interior discipline of silence ‘which leaves God freedom to act in us’. He read and studied assiduously, and later when giving retreats, he prepared each of his talks with extreme care and ‘never repeated a retreat again’, such was the extent of his knowledge [9]. Fr De Meester comments that he was “far less an original thinker than an eloquent preacher” [10]. He had the gift of opening large horizons to those whom he confirmed in the Strength and Peace of Christ [11].

In 1895 Fr Vallée became Prior of the Dominican Priory in Dijon; the same year that Mother Marie of Jesus was elected Prioress of the Carmel in Dijon. Fr Vallée became spiritual director for her, as well as for several of the nuns in the Carmel. Although he was an ascetic, he did not approve of nuns undertaking voluntary mortification. Their Rule was austere enough, if they lived strictly according to it, without the need to add other disciplines [12]. He counselled the Prioress to be close to God in the silences, to radiate the Rule, and to give herself unstintingly to her daughters. She was to them the Sacrament of God, and they must be able to see in her both Mother and authority [13].

The broad outline of his theology remained the same whether he spoke from a pulpit of a cathedral or in the humble confessional of a cloister [14]. Spiritual questions posed to him, he brought back to the principles of faith and then easily drew forth answers. He centred all spiritual life on just one point: the great love of God for man. Impassioned with Christ, as he was, he wanted every heart which approached Christ to abide in Him: forgetting itself completely, in the simplicity of God. He often expressed this as “walking to the step of God” [15]. "It is necessary, he said, that everywhere where you go, whatever you do, Christ is the light and the charity of the convent; it is necessary that one eats with Him, that one works with Him, that one shares recreation with Him, that one is all the time subject to His Will” [16]. He was devoted to Our Blessed Mother and one reads of him saying his rosary ‘in a loud voice’ in the confessional while waiting for penitents [17]; and of often saying a decade of the rosary, in order to refresh himself, during the preparation of material for a talk. He advised the nuns to adopt the practice of saying a decade of the rosary before the start of spiritual conferences [18].

Mother Marie of Jesus (1853 – 1917).
Who better to introduce the venerable Mother Marie of Jesus, than her spiritual director, Father Vallée, with comments made after her death. “It was at Dijon that I knew her. We had long talks, rejoicing in the mutual discoveries we made. I always found at the Carmelite convent a divine fountain of strength for my soul. Christ was so entirely the ‘wisdom’ and the ‘power’ of God for her, and with what perfect fidelity she corresponded to God’s designs. ‘Those whom Christ keeps, are well kept’“ [19].

From her early years Marie Mercier had given herself to God. At the age of 14 she had a supernatural experience of prayer during a Procession of the Rogation Days when, quite suddenly, she seemed to be filled with the very real presence of the Holy Trinity. Thereafter, she “always tried to withdraw into that depth where They dwell” [20], and “she sought for nothing apart from the vital element of prayer” [21]. Although she was of delicate health, she nevertheless entered Carmel on August 14th 1872 and was professed on June 12th 1874 – the Feast of the Sacred Heart. During her Profession, she again had a deep prayer experience in which ”she seemed to see Christ open His Heart to her with great Love” [22]. In 1881 Sister Marie of Jesus was elected as second in charge of the Noviciate, with the Prioress assuming overall charge. In 1889 she became Sub-Prioress and in 1895 Prioress. She remained Prioress at Dijon until 1901: in the last years, she was involved with the founding of a new convent at Paray-le-Monial and actually left Dijon in June 1901.

Mother Marie has been credited with introducing at least 50 postulants to the religious life [23], and an important part of her correspondence was addressed to aspirants [24]. She had an empathy with the young and the simplicity of her style endeared her to them. She met with the postulants (extra-muros) fairly often, that they might become familiar with the Carmelite life of silence, suffering and prayer [25]; as well as the peace of God’s house: monastic charity, pure joy in belonging to Jesus Christ, and the heavenly atmosphere of the cloisters [26] They had to promise to live as Mother Marie required [27], and report on any tasks which she had set for them. Her authority was firm and gentle; kind but allowing no compromise [28]. In the direction of souls she showed maturity and prudence – firmness, affection and indulgence. She told them that all spiritual life consisted of 2 things: forgetfulness of self and love. Hence they should look at God, more than themselves; and think more about love, than of sacrifice [29]; she encouraged them to love God very much, taking refuge within themselves, in that abyss of the soul where God is, and to be joyful with Him [30]. She required of them, a simple prayer, but a living prayer [31], an intimate conversation with an actual person [32]: to pray is to gaze on God [33], and she reminded them that we never draw near to God in prayer, but He gives us something [34]. In turn, they gave her a regular account of their prayer life [35], which she referred to as ‘the best of all graces [36].

Three words summarized her spiritual teaching: love, silence, humility. An idea of how the aspirants may have been introduced to that teaching may be gathered from some of the spiritual conferences which Mother Marie held with her daughters in Chapter, to illustrate how she lived the Carmelite Rule and Charism [37]. Love. In a Carmelite, Love takes the place of all else [38], for by exercising the light of faith you come to see nothing but God upon earth [39]: “He that loveth not, knoweth not God, for God is Love” (1 Jn 4:8). Christ is the source of Love [40]. He desires to take refuge in loving souls, and to rest in love with them. [41]. Love God, forget yourself [42]. Love only rests in the sacrifice of all [43]. Spiritual joy is the radiance of love, it is the flower of charity [44]. Adoration. To adore means more than submission, it means to love, and to do God’s Will with a religious worship, on your knees [45]. Obedience is the perfect act of adoration. Nothingness. You are but nothingness, and only escape from that nothingness by adoption as a child of God [46]. If you become as nothing, you will easily find Him [47], for He is very close to you [48]. The more you bury yourself in the loving conviction that you are nothing, the more He will prepare divine surprises for you [49]. The soul sounds its own nothingness, and the nothingness of its works, so that it can attach itself to nothing that is not God [50]. Silence. Silence is love, or it is the prudence of love. It is the way you help God to fill you as He wills. Practice silence to get to know and love God [51]. You will often have an opportunity of being silent in little things. This silence in times of difficulty, suffering, and the mortification of self-love, sets you very free [52]. Humility. Humility is the silence of self [53]. If you draw back before an act of humility, it is that you have not seen Jesus Christ, you have not known Him, you have not known what it is to love Him [54]. Suffering. Suffering is a measure of love [55]. You must not suffer from your own suffering; you must learn to suffer outside of self with Our Crucified Lord [56]. He thought very little of His sufferings, but a great deal about His Love [57]. As a Carmelite, you go through all suffering, you go to look for Our Love.[58]; you endure suffering, by uniting it with the passion of Christ, and thinking only of that. [59]. To love is to give yourself, to be absorbed utterly in Him whom you love, it is to be incapable of looking at your own sufferings, to see only His Love [60]. Your prayers even in great suffering never leave you without a divine strength [61].

Mother Germaine (1870 – 1934) [62].
Mother Germaine was only 31 years of age when elected Prioress: she served in that position for 6 years and at regular intervals thereafter. She was also Mistress of Novices, which was not unusual when numbers were small. In Chapter, she said that her aim as Prioress would be, “To keep as perfectly as possible, in the wholly apostolic spirit of our Holy Mother, this Rule and these Constitutions which she has left us, after herself having observed them with such great perfection.” [63]. The Community was a family, with family values of love, joy, happiness, and simplicity [64]. This is especially noteworthy when one remembers the religious repression being enacted, at the time of her first election as Prioress, by the French Government. Following St Teresa, Mother Germaine sought to be loved that she might be obeyed [65], but also that monastic fervour and the Carmelite charism would be intensified in the Dijon Carmel. She was a true Mother to her daughters, rather than an organiser or born leader [66].

Mother Germaine was remembered as, “a great Carmelite: noble, respectful of others, somewhat timid and reserved, with a very generous spirit of self-sacrifice; she was a prayerful, peaceful soul, and exceedingly zealous of the perfect observance of the Rule” [67]. She was fortunate to have been in formation during Mother Marie’s Priorate; for her soul was inflamed with a love of silence and recollection, and she was able to recognise, test, and strengthen the interior lives of her daughters, from those secrets of the intimate life of the indwelling Holy Trinity in her own soul [68].

ELIZABETH CATEZ – PRIOR TO CARMEL
(1899 -1901)

Introduction.
Elizabeth’s Diary is not only a record of the Mission of 1899; it is also a record of Elizabeth’s interest and dedication during the mission. Her days must have been very long indeed. For a few weeks she was able to live openly the ‘hidden’ side of her life among people who were finding time for God. In the space of those few weeks she became spiritually more mature, and her Mother had given permission for her to enter Carmel in about 28 months, when she was 21 years old. The mission proved to be a watershed and these 28 months need to be treated separately from her earlier life: the nature of her suffering may not have been too different from that of her earlier years, but this was not true of its intensity.

Figuratively, one may liken her life during this time to the passage across a narrow ‘bridge’ linking the end of the mission to the entry into Carmel. The end for which she had lived was in sight: it would take time to get there and, for a while nothing would seem to change, then her hidden life would become more and more open while her social life began to fall away. Yes, the end was in sight, but the bridge was narrow and she might lose her footing and no longer be able to cross: unless she stayed close to her lifelong guide – Jesus.

Elizabeth dreaded the ending of the mission and the return to her double life. She dreaded it because the mission had given added impetus to her desire for Christian perfection; and to the driving force of her young life: her desire to suffer for Jesus, “I want to endure all sufferings well” [69]. Her vocation had been confirmed (as far as was humanly possible) and so she fully expected to be able to realise her wish if she became a nun. Yet, if she had to remain in the world because of her own ill-health, or that of her Mother, she was prepared to gratify her wish in some other way [70]. Of course there was no reason why she should not suffer before becoming a nun, in particular as a means of mortifying her self-will. Unfortunately, her attempts at self-imposed mortification were innocently misguided, although pure in intent. Hadn’t she tried this before? Even before the start of the mission she had noted in her diary that “physical suffering is only a means of attaining interior mortification and detachment from self” [71] and “ I can at least immolate my will at every moment of the day” [72].

She put her health at risk, for example: by lack of sleep caused by wearing her ‘prized’ hair-shirt, and by getting up early to increase the time available for prayer; by her attempts to miss meals whenever she could; and no doubt, by other observances in the privacy of her own room. Any suffering resulting from her impaired health would be joyfully offered to Jesus: for she welcomed this [73]! Apparently her confessor had given permission for some disciplines, but had omitted to prescribe limits. [74]. One must conclude that, as happened a few years earlier, Elizabeth’s misguided enthusiasm needed trammelling. Fortunately Elizabeth was prepared to discuss the details of her attempts at mortification openly with Mother Marie, who was no stranger to the use of hair shirts, girdles, sleeping on boards, and other disciplines [75]. Thereafter she was firmly, and gently, encouraged to allow Jesus to decide, when He was ready, ‘if, when, and in what way’ He would invite her to suffer. No doubt, Mother Marie would have reminded Elizabeth that to do the Will of God, whether it be in joy or in sorrow, in pleasure or in pain, was of greater merit than to suffer [76]. A quite unexpected opportunity for Elizabeth to practice Mother Marie’s dictates occurred when “her long hours of prayer caused synovitis of the knee” in June 1901 [77].

Elizabeth also put her health at risk with her attitude to ‘unavoidable’ illnesses. One doesn’t know if she caught the flu in the epidemic at the end of the mission; in [L23] she wrote that her Mother was suffering and that Dijon was very wet and unhealthy! However, in Oct. 1900 she did have bronchitis, and she did not wish to recover: offering her suffering to Jesus. Fortunately Mother Marie was at hand to require her to pray for her recovery as an act of obedience, which she did and, yes, she recovered [78]. Exactly the same thing happened years later in Carmel during her last illness. She did not wish to recover, even though her sisters were praying for a miracle [79]; and Mother Germaine required her to pray also, which she did as an act of obedience [80].

Elizabeth longed to be in Carmel for the opportunity to suffer: when she was on holiday in July 1900, a priest suggested that Carmelite life could be too austere for her, and she replied, “Oh well, then I’ll die”. [81]; and when Mme Vathaire told her that Carmel was a “bottomless abyss of suffering”, she replied that she really hoped to suffer because she was only going to Carmel for that purpose. The Holy Spirit corrected an over-enthusiastic slip of the tongue with: “to pray, to suffer, and to love” [82]. Had Elizabeth’s sole aim in becoming a nun, been to suffer for Jesus; one could have understood her attitude to health: she could suffer just as well in the world as in Carmel; but then she would have been living a lie! How very precious was the gift of her vocation from Jesus [83]: He had called her in the depths of her soul, directing her to Carmel. Although in the world, she was living as His Bride, seeking to share any suffering with Him and in Him. Her suffering was the very expression of her love for Jesus. Her real longing was a longing to be with her Bridegroom in heaven: because then she would be a Carmelite in heaven and “the Carmel in heaven was far better” than that on earth [84].

In June 1899 Elizabeth went to Carmel as an aspirant to ask Mother Marie for permission to enter Carmel. She was accepted and became one of a small group of ‘postulants extra-muros’, all preparing for Carmelite life. She recorded the event in a poem [P71]. A translation of verses 1,2 and 2 lines of verse 3, is given in HMH [85], while the final verse 4 conveys both the sense of her rapport with the Prioress and her joy that this was the first of many meetings both with Mother Marie and a new group of friends.

Poems, Letters, etc.
Although Elizabeth wrote only 2 poems before entering Carmel, and ended her Diary with the retreat in January 1900; she did write 58 letters (extant) and 7 Personal Notes over the 28 months. Elizabeth’s second poem [P72] was written for St Teresa of Avila’s feast day (15 Oct 1899). It lacks the passion of some of her previous poems. To her, Carmel was now a reality: however distant; and she wrote no more poems before entry into Carmel. She opens her poem by summarizing the life of the Carmelite nun, as she understands it and for which she longs (verses 1-6). Then she talks to Jesus about that longing for Carmel; reminding Him of when He first called her and of her suffering ever since; and still she is not in Carmel after all these years (verses 7-9). It is noticeable here that she uses the word ‘martyrdom’ – to express severe constant suffering [86]. A suffering which does not abate as the reality of Carmel draws inexorably closer: even though, she visits the monastery quite often and is already a postulant (verses 9-12). As always when reflecting on her ‘suffering’, her compassion for the suffering of her Mother ‘breaks through’ and she asks Jesus to comfort her both now and during the trials ahead (verse 13) [87]. Rather belatedly in the last 2 verses of the poem , she turns to the celebrations taking place on this joyful feast day for our Holy Mother and as the ‘chimes rise to heaven’ Elizabeth asks Saint Teresa to intercede for the postulants of the Carmel (verses 14-15).

How many letters were exchanged between Elizabeth and other extra-muros is not known, for only the 21 written to Marguerite Gollot are extant [88]. The content of these letters was quite different from the others: Elizabeth warmed to Marguerite, addressing her as a ‘very dear sister’; she arranged meetings at the Carmel; and she shared with Marguerite her very deep love for Jesus. The mental relief for Elizabeth in finding someone with whom she could open up her hidden-life, must have been considerable. One senses the ‘joy of suffering’ as an ever present thread: for example, on a picture-card she wrote that we should “see our crosses with eyes of love” [89], and in a letter, “It’s good to suffer, isn’t it ..” [90].

Elizabeth had begun writing ‘Personal Notes’ of reflection and prayer, when she was 13 years old, and 8 Notes were written over the 28 months covered by this update. [91]. Translations of 4 of these are given in HMH [92]. Do read the prayer in [PN5], it is very beautiful [93]. In 1900, on the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, Elizabeth renewed her vow of chastity [94]. She asked Our Lady to offer her, and to give her, to Jesus, and she asked Jesus for the grace to endure all sufferings well.

‘Extra-Muros’.
Elizabeth’s letters make it clear that becoming an extra-muros did not just mean visiting Carmel and meeting friends. It was principally an opportunity for Elizabeth to meet with Mother Prioress to discuss her prayer life [95], her daily activities, and the results of any ‘tasks’ which she may have been given: which could range from mortification to reading material from the archives of the Dijon Carmel [96]. Philipon draws attention to the act of mortification performed by Elizabeth when she realised that her close friendship with Marguerite Gollot was becoming too worldly. Her singleness of purpose, and her exquisite tact, stand out; as she brings Jesus back into focus, both for herself and for her friend [97].

‘Extra-muros’ activities still had to be a part of her ‘hidden life. Visits to Carmel and her new friends afforded her a much needed relief from suffering as it enabled her to live completely in her hidden-life for short periods, but the social life, that she had known for most of her life, went on without any let-up. As Carmel drew closer, the strain of living that double life must have been unbearable at times. For example, in April 1901 her Mother and sister went to a wedding while Elizabeth remained in Dijon [98]. In a letter to another extra-muros written, while staying with close friends of the family, she began by noting that she had to write in pencil because she did not wish anyone “to see me writing to you” [99]. When breaking the news of her immanent departure for Carmel to a friend of long standing, she wrote, “I hardly dare entrust this great secret to you” [100]. Even with Guite, who was “devotion personified”, she felt unable to discuss her thoughts about the monastery of Paray-le-Monial [101]. Why? One could be forgiven for thinking that she was being unnecessarily secretive - even paranoid. Perhaps, one answer might lie in the social stigma, at that time, of a ‘failed’ vocation as a nun. Although she had no doubt that Our Blessed Lady would watch over her, Elizabeth knew that she might not, even then, enter Carmel because of either her own or her Mother’s ill health; and that, even if she entered, the austerity of Carmel might lead to a breakdown of her health: as had happened to her close friend Marie-Louise Hallo (with whom she happened to be staying).

It would appear that Elizabeth also visited the Dominican Priory in Dijon, where she would have learned about the life of Saint Catherine of Sienna, and, from time to time, met with the Prior: Father Vallée [102]. Father Vallée was quite often at the Carmel, and Elizabeth’s first meeting with him at the Carmel (June 1900) is well documented [103]. He was greatly impressed by her understanding and spirituality, and said of her later, “She has a very heavenly soul, how few there are like it even in the cloisters” [104]. One can imagine the scene with Father Vallée seated and Elizabeth kneeling beside him, over-awed, and taking in every word. Every word, that is until the Holy Spirit opened the eyes of her mind to Father Vallée’s words “... the Father is there, the Son is there, and the Holy ghost is there” [105]. Then she couldn’t get away quickly enough! Can one even begin to imagine her feelings at this precious moment? Not only was she ‘Elizabeth’ – ‘house of God’ ; she was Elizabeth ‘of the Trinity’ – ineffable in its devastating beauty [106]! The only dark spot on the horizon would have been that she could not realise her full potential of the Divine Indwelling while not yet in Carmel: in other words, become ‘filled’ with the Holy Trinity; so that her joy would, for a time, be tinged with sadness.

Father Vallée said of the occasion, “I saw her borne away as on a tidal wave” [107]. Another author has suggested that as the eyes of her mind were opened, Elizabeth’s reaction would have been that of someone listening to the finale of Mahler’s 2nd Symphony [108]. The cumulative effect of that moment, very near to the end, when the organ takes over and choir sings, ‘Auferstehn … ‘, is also ineffable in its devastating beauty. There is no poem or personal note in June 1900 to mark this significant meeting with Fr Vallée. This could actually emphasize how Elizabeth viewed its importance: she marked the death of her Father, 10 years later [109]; her First Holy Communion, 7 years later [110]; and ‘Divine Indwelling’ would wait 4 years before being (indirectly) marked by the beautiful ‘Prayer to the Trinity’ [111], about which Fr Philipon wrote, “In order to compose such a prayer, a whole life of sanctity was required, together with a special charisma causing it to well up from her heart”.[112]. One notable exception is the poem written to mark her Mother lifting the ban on Carmel, which must have been written very soon after the event [113].

In July (1899) Elizabeth, with her Mother and sister, went on holiday to Jura and Switzerland for 2 months, returning to Dijon in September. [114]. Although Elizabeth knew that she would never visit these places again, she was fretting through being away from Dijon [115]. Having returned from her holidays, Elizabeth took up again her interest in youth work. She helped with the running of a youth club and with catechism classes in her parish. She was doing ‘the Lord’s work’ and it showed. She was idolised by the children; and she responded freely and naturally as a fun-loving enthusiastic teenager, and a gifted play-leader [116]. Her hidden-life surfaced naturally: among the children, it excited curiosity and interest, making her more approachable rather than less so. A slightly older teenage girl, whom Elizabeth had prepared for her First Holy Communion, wrote that Elizabeth had implanted a devotion to Our Blessed Mother and had encouraged her in prayer by praying with her and for her; and she remarked on her patience and gentleness. She realised only after receiving the sacrament, the beauty of Elizabeth’s teaching on Jesus’ Love which really began to blossom and bear fruit [117].

July 1900 saw the start of Elizabeth’s last holiday, to the Midi, with her Mother and sister. What were their inner feelings? The outward show of gaiety, during dances and musical evenings, concealed little inner happiness. The impression conveyed by Elizabeth’s letters of a whirlwind of unending and happy activity, was more fiction than fact. At Tarbes, tears of sheer joy streamed down Elizabeth’s face as she witnessed the joy of a sister at a veiling ceremony. The Mother watching her daughter was forced to say, “I wont make you wait much longer” [118]. There were tears again in November when Elizabeth went to a Clothing ceremony in the Dijon Carmel [119] Jennifer Moorcroft observes that Elizabeth showed stress in a photograph taken toward the end of the holiday [120], while Elizabeth remarked later that she had been haunted by thoughts of the Dijon Carmel. Certainly the stress was confirmed by the way in which the crowds, and noise, at the Paris Exhibition upset her [121].

Last Days in the World.
Over the years Marie Catez had been climbing her own Calvary, and in July 1901, rather than cause her daughter any more suffering from fretting about entry into Carmel [122], Marie Catez performed her penultimate act of motherly love [123]. She went quietly to the Carmel to arrange for Elizabeth to enter as soon as this could be arranged. The day after Elizabeth’s twenty-first birthday, Her Mother told her that she was to enter Carmel on August 2nd 1901 [124]. Marie Catez had also written to Mother Marie to ask whether Elizabeth could enter the Dijon Carmel rather than the new foundation at Paray-le-Monial [125]. Mother Marie willingly agreed. This had been a source of worry to Elizabeth, although she had been prepared to go with Mother Marie. Information on family scenes during Elizabeth’s last days in the world are well described in Jennifer Moorcroft’s book. Elizabeth’s thoughts on the verge of leaving the world, have been compared with those of one of her favourite saints, immortalized in the finale of the oratorio ‘Joan of Arc’, as she broke her chains [126]. Far more descriptive of those thoughts, and poignant, was Mme Vathaire’s comment [127] as Elizabeth turned to look at her in the Chapel just before entering the enclosure:

“Never will I be able to express what I saw there..... No longer a human glance, but something angelic. Her eyes were luminous, transparent: shining with a heavenly light... The impression will always remain with me”.

SISTER ELIZABETH OF THE TRINITY
- IN CARMEL (1901-1903)

Postulant (August – December 1901) -
Novice (December 1901 – January 1903).

Introduction.
Elizabeth had crossed the ‘bridge’, she had entered Carmel. She had entered Carmel on the first Friday of the month, a day consecrated to the sufferings of her Beloved Bridegroom and to reparation. A Bridegroom whom she found so truly present everywhere “that it seems as if we were separated by a thin veil, and He were on the point of appearing” [128]. Can one wonder at her happiness: her ‘divine’ happiness [129]; in this “corner of Heaven” [130]. In a letter to Guite, she wrote “Don’t be afraid that my happiness will pass, for God is its sole object, and “He never changes”!” [131]; and in a letter to her lifelong trusted friend, “I do not regret these years of waiting, my happiness is so great it really had to be paid for” [132]. Three days after entry into Carmel, Sr Elizabeth posed for a group photograph with other sisters. Fr De Meester remarks that, “Her face betrays the suffering of the last few days but also her decision to go forward.” [133]. Her suffering had not ended, but its nature had changed: she was now in Carmel; and the emphasis, to begin with, was on compassion. One could be forgiven for thinking that the grille would keep her remote from the suffering in the outside world [134]. Parlour visits and letters effectively dispelled that idea, as did Sr Elizabeth’s forceful promotion of the ‘union of souls’ [135]. When writing about the union of souls, Sr Elizabeth frequently introduced the word ‘feel’. For example: “You do feel your little child very close” [136]; “Can’t you feel me there among you?” [137];”I’ll really feel it, for my soul is so close to yours” [138].

Initially, her overriding ‘personal’ suffering was the thought of the pain which her vocation had caused to her Mother and sister [139]: “Dear Mama, I’ve seen you weep so often” [140]. This was not at odds with her happiness [141]: she had offered her suffering to Jesus, to suffer in Him and with Him, and therein lay her happiness [142]. Sr Elizabeth was well aware of the religious persecution [143] and of how it might affect the Carmel; but while she found joy in this suffering [144], she was compassionate with her Mother’s worries about the worsening situation [145]. A year after entering Carmel she felt able to write, “I feel the sacrifice just as you do, but I’m divinely happy” [146]. The austerities of Carmel about which she had been warned were now a reality: for example, her cell was without heat or running water. In the previous winter the windows of her cell, and the cloister, had been frosted over [147]. Also a year after entering Carmel, now in the novitiate, she was enduring the trials of purgation and really suffering [148]: such was the effect on her that Fr Vallée was forced to ask, “What have you done to my Elizabeth?” [149]. This suffering was evident in a family photograph taken at the end of her novitiate. “It shows Sr Elizabeth with eyes swollen from a mixture of fatigue from her inner battles and the stress of the occasion. She posed, stiff and unsmiling, … “. [150].

Letters.
There are 69 letters (extant) from this period, written to 24 recipients: including 9 to her Mother and 15 to her sister. Taken overall, the letters give an idea of the social circle of the many friends and relations known both to Elizabeth and to her family; and to one-another. For this reason, Elizabeth was careful in her letters: not only in what she wrote, but also in how she expressed herself; that the suffering of her Mother was not exacerbated either from her own letters or as a result of ‘second-hand’ reports. The large number of letters to her sister is partly accounted for by the ‘errands’ that she had to run for Sr Elizabeth [151]. The permitted frequency for writing letters and receiving parlour visits was regulated [152]; but because of the state of Elizabeth’s health prior to Carmel, Mother Germaine encouraged more letters and visits for a few days after entry, and occasionally thereafter [153]. Acutely aware of her new daughter’s poor health, she sometimes added ‘encouraging postscripts’ when Elizabeth wrote to her Mother [154].

Sr Elizabeth took about a month to settle down [155], although a lot longer to participate fully in the horaria of the Carmel because of her fatigue [156]. Her letters were chatty and light, everything she experienced increased her happiness [157]. Clearly she was at pains to ameliorate her Mother’s trauma, but Sr Elizabeth’s happiness was genuine: everything that she did, saw her recollected in Christ; from eating her meals, to helping with the washing [158]. Truly her life was “Heaven in faith” [159]. Sr Elizabeth’s mention of the steady improvement in her health [160], that her appetite had returned [161], and that she was sleeping well [162] even to falling asleep in Matins [163]; was intended to reassure her Mother. Perversely, it did not! As a Mother, naturally she was glad that her daughter was getting well again; but this effectively killed any hope that her daughter would have to leave the Carmel through ill-health [164]. The letters from Carmel also confirmed that, in the last month’s before entry, Elizabeth was in poor health [165], that she was not sleeping well [166], and that she may have had digestive problems [167]. In rare departures from her usual style, past suffering was sometimes mentioned in Sr Elizabeth’s letters, noting: that she had “really suffered at times” [168]; and that she would never have been able to make the sacrifice which she did, without God’s help [169].

From time-to-time in letters to her Mother: she expressed concern at her Mother’s continuing ill-health [170]; she acknowledged the suffering caused by her entry into Carmel; and she reiterated her gratitude for her Mother’s ‘fiat’ [171]. At the end of 1901, there was genuine compassion over her Mother’s sadness when spending her first Christmas without her [172]. Guite kept Sr Elizabeth informed about their Mother’s health [173] and, as expected, had taken her sister’s place in looking after their Mother [174]. In one letter Sr Elizabeth reminded Guite, following her engagement, that their Mother was lonely [175]. It is apparent that Guite had shed many tears in the run-up to Carmel and was comforted by Elizabeth [176]. Even 6 months later she was still tearful [177]. In several letters to friends, with whom her Mother and sister were staying, Sr Elizabeth asked that an elder sister could take her place with Guite [178].

When expressing compassion, for death or illness, Sr Elizabeth had a flair for choosing an appropriate ‘prayer’. In a letter to a very close friend whose baby had died, Sr Elizabeth did not indulge in consolation, but advised her to seek comfort in the heart of Our Blessed Mother [179]. For a lady whose father was ill, and another whose husband was ill, she used Mary Magdalen’s prayer, “Lord, the one You love is sick” (Jn 11:3) [180]. While, for a Mother worried over finding a suitable husband for her daughter, she advised abandonment to the Will of God [181]. A final example illustrating her compassion was for those souls who did not know God. These she sought to bring to Him through her own deepening prayer life [182].

Nowhere in Sr Elizabeth’s letters was there any hint of the difficult time she experienced during her novitiate [183]. In fact, this would have gone largely unnoticed outside of Carmel, had it not been for Mother Germaine’s reference in ‘Souvenirs’ to the ‘humiliating’ and ‘painful’ suffering of the ‘poor child’ (1902) [184]. There were oblique references in 2 letters. Writing to her lifelong trusted friend, she referred to feeling “so little, so full of misery” [185]: by ‘so little’ is understood ‘how petty’, as given in the Stanbrook translation [186]. While, almost 3 years later, she advised a lady enduring long-term suffering,” We will never be purified by looking at this misery, but by gazing on Him Who is Purity and Holiness” [187].

Poems and Personal Notes.
During this period Sr Elizabeth wrote 14 poems [P73-P86] and 2 Personal Notes [PN12,13]. There is no mention of suffering in the poems until the middle of the year 1902, when she was enduring the trials of purgation in the novitiate. Then in a poem to mark the feast of St Martha [188], she wrote, “The Carmelite nun is a soul given, an immolate of God” [189]. Four days later she wrote [L131]: see refn [185] above. Again in a poem paraphrasing (Jn 15:13), she wrote, “Sister, let us forget the exile and the suffering”, and, “Oh! how beautiful is the martyrdom of virgins” [190]. On Christmas-Eve Sr Elizabeth was told that she would be professed early in January 1903, and in her Christmas poem, addressing the Infant Jesus, she wrote, “Look on me, It is in you that I hope, And to go to you, Prepare me” [191]. Once again, a few days later, the theme is repeated in a letter, “I feel my weakness, but He is in me to prepare me,” [192].

Personal Note 13 was written at about the same time as [P83] and [L131]. There is just one reference to sacrifice, “To be a Bride of Christ: … it is to be immolated like Him, by Him, for Him …” [193]. The note is in the form of a meditation on the theme, “To be a Bride of Christ”: written in the midst of suffering; and described by Fr De Meester as full of fervour [194]. He has exhaustively checked the content and has concluded that Sr Elizabeth did not copy any material from other sources, and that she originated the note. In other words, the note genuinely represents the outpouring of her heart and soul. Yes, it is a very ‘personal note’ and, for the privileged reader, a source of many hours of meditation.

Profession.
Sr Elizabeth made a 10 day retreat prior to being professed, during which her sufferings increased to the point of being almost unbearable [195]. After talking with a priest “of wide experience” she was able to proceed to her all-night vigil and to Profession [196]. Mother Germaine noted that Sr Elizabeth would have read in the vespers for the day of her Profession, “I beseech you therefore, … , that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, pleasing unto God, … “ (Rom.12:1) [197]. Six months after her Profession she was to write that during her vigil,

“I understood that my heaven was beginning on earth; Heaven in faith, with suffering and immolation for Him whom I love!” [198].

SISTER ELIZABETH OF THE TRINITY
- IN CARMEL (1903-1906)

Professed nun (January 1903 – March 1906).

Introduction.
At her wedding feast Sr Elizabeth offered her Bridegroom “the gold of a pure heart, the incense of a life of prayer, and the myrrh of the sacrifice of all things including herself” [199]. He responded by ending her long period of trial that she might “dwell in a light that would never again be eclipsed” [200]. In that light she longed for the joy of martyrdom; but would conform to His Will, spending herself for Him, and for Him alone [201]. One could be forgiven for thinking that with her Profession, Sr Elizabeth had at last found peace and could now “get on with being a nun”. There was a tranquil rhythm to her life, and she no longer suffered from an over-sensitive nature or scruples [202]. An ineffable peace reigned in her soul: as would reign in any soul actively seeking to love God [203]. This was God’s Love at work in the soul; and one should welcome it [204] rather than holding back. Sr Elizabeth referred to this ‘peace’ in 24 of her letters.

Three years later Sr Elizabeth was admitted to the infirmary in the Carmel suffering from an incurable illness: Jennifer Moorcroft notes that the illness was diagnosed in 1903 [205]; so for quite some time her strength of will and indomitable courage had enabled her to hide the real extent of her suffering, by doing her work in a spirit of penance according to the Rule [206]. This was not duplicity: she needed to protect her Mother; she disliked being ‘looked after’ [207]; and it challenged her mortification in regard to: her stillness in chapel and at prayer [208], and her forgetfulness of self [209]. God had granted her prayer made all those years ago at the shrine of Notre-Dame d’Etang for the grace to die young [210]. Sr Elizabeth had longed to suffer and she would have her wish, but God leads souls slowly, taking them to Calvary by way of Tabor [211]. Along the route, He tests the growth in the soul’s love for Him by means of trials [212], for love cannot live unless it grows [213]. Sr Elizabeth was to spend 3 years ‘on the way’ being tested: overjoyed that her destiny would have its Calvary; and that it was a blessing, not a punishment, from God [214].

Sr Elizabeth’s Illness.
Medical opinion of the time stated that Addison’s disease was extremely insidious and difficult of diagnosis. The patient experienced progressive debility and emaciation and, at that time, there was no satisfactory treatment. It was known to be a possible complication of TB, which was then rife in Europe [215]. In simple terms, Sr Elizabeth knew that she was dying. One of the tell-tale symptoms of her illness is that the sufferer always feels cold. Asked how she could endure the cold during one winter, she wrote that she used to suffer more at home from the cold [216]; also, “Please excuse the writing, we have no heat and I cannot hold the pen” [217], and “The temperature in the parlour is hardly good for colds.” [218]. On another occasion in the summer when it had been proposed to open a window in her cell; she did not think that it was all that warm [219].

The progress of the illness can be charted from the sourced information given below.

Reassurance for her Mother
1903	March	Health ‘wonderful’ [220] - confirmed by Mother Germaine
	August	Health ‘marvellous’ [221]
	September	“ask God to continue to give me this grace of health” [222]. hot weather made her tired [223]
Hints / unguarded comments (?)
1904	April	“What is there to say about myself, while I wait to go sing in heaven” [224]
	August	“In the long run …. the soul grows weary” [225] “An abyss of Love .. while waiting .. to sing .. in heaven” [226]
1905	January	“Every day He makes me experience more fully how sweet it is to be in His Love. .. and through everything we remain in His Love ” [227]
Adjustment in Carmel
1905	January	Permission to wear a warmer petticoat , health has changed [228]
	March	Unable to keep the full Lenten observance [229]
	August	Spending more time in fresh air [230] Relieved of duties at the turn for a month [231] Lassitude caused by failing health [232] Utter weariness [233] Using abbreviations in her letters because of fatigue [234]
	December ?	Not able to finish her work as expected, getting weaker [235] “As I went back ….. to get a little rest after Mass” [236]
1906	March	Infirmary [237]

Sr Elizabeth never referred directly to her illness [238], but some of the phrases in her letters for 1904 could have been taken as suggestive of it. Whatever interpretation one may adopt a century later; at the time of writing, her Mother was not alerted by any of them, although from her parlour visits she knew that her daughter was not in the best of health, despite reassurances to the contrary.

Letters from Carmel.
Sr Elizabeth wrote 114 letters (extant) over the 3 years. Superficially these are no different from her earlier letters from Carmel: loosely, the correspondents are the same, as are the topics written about. Her advice on suffering was being given to real people: people that she knew when in the world; but now she was writing against a background of her own illness: albeit carefully hidden from her correspondents so as to protect her Mother. She advised them not to draw back from their trials and suffering, because in every activity: joy or trial; the God of Love was entirely within them, and joyful or sorrowful with them [239]. What was their choice to be: was their soul to become impoverished and deadened; or was it live, to be purified through suffering, and strengthened in His Love?

Taken overall, the letters reflect the maturing of her spirituality and her growing interest in St Paul’s Epistles. There was an unmistakable confidence in the use and adaptation of Scriptural texts as her vocation as ‘a praise of His glory’ [240] was pursued. Her Scriptural quotations were chiefly from St Paul together with St John. She had begun referring to St Paul by name just prior to her Profession [241] Up to the time of writing her ‘Prayer to the Trinity’ (November 1904), when she felt it appropriate to quote scripture in her reply to a letter, she was sparing: using no more than 4 quotations [242]. Thereafter, her letters frequently contained up to 9 quotations [243]. These numbers can only be approximate [244].

Compassion.
In close contact with other nuns in the Carmel, Sr Elizabeth’s loving nature found many opportunities to express her compassion. For example: the nun in the adjacent cell was disturbed by noise, so Sr Elizabeth made a habit of always moving quietly about her own cell [245]; postulants found, that as an ‘angel’, she had “a comforting shoulder to cry on, when . . . they ended up in tears” [246]; and when Mother Germaine had recovered from Bronchitis, she was obviously delighted [247]. Naturally her compassion extended beyond the grille of Carmel. She was ‘up-to-date’ with the religious persecution [248]: aware not only of the anguish of seminarians at Dijon who were at odds with Bishop Nordez [249], and of other religious Orders [250] threatened with expulsion; but also with the effect on the local community of the Carmel Chapel having been closed by the Bishop [251] and of the possible loss of a Carmel in Dijon [252].

Sr Elizabeth often encouraged correspondents to use Mary Magdalen’s prayer, if a relative was dangerously ill [253] writing that it was a prayer that God did not resist. It is interesting that she never invoked this prayer for her own illness, nor did she use it in any letters after January 1906. Sometimes she was able to call on her pre-Carmel experience as, for example, when Guite’s father-in-law died she wrote how she could understand his wife’s grief better, because she remembered how their own Mother had suffered when their Father had died [254].

In quite a few letters [255] Sr Elizabeth suggested that the sufferer should “throw themselves into the arms of God” or allow God to “carry them in His arms”: the arms of Love. Jennifer Moorcroft quotes one of these letters in full “because of the superb advice it contains. ..it reveals so beautifully Elizabeth’s spiritual outlook. It is full of common sense ..” [256]. There are at least a dozen Scriptural references woven into the text, and it can provide many hours of meditation. A meditation on the theme of the letter follows, in outline.

“Life is a succession of sufferings [257] and sufferings are trials from God [258]. Perhaps this is not the way suffering is seen? Then, there can be no satisfactory explanation for pain, and one simply suffers: especially if modern medicine offers neither cure nor relief. The alternative is to “throw oneself into the arms of God” and seek to live life more deeply in Him, with Him, and through Him: a ‘union’ not merely of love and obedience, but a living organic unity [259]. Sr Elizabeth was keen on complete abandonment to Him: no matter how weak one was, how sinful, how guilty, how . . . ; He would take care of everything. But would He? Could He? She quoted from the Scriptures of Jesus Love, His Compassion, the Power He exercises from His Father in heaven, and of His agony for mankind in the garden. With every quotation she was answering: Yes, He will; Yes, He can; for God is Love.
Does the alternative give a satisfactory explanation for pain? For the Christian who, through Faith, is living ‘Heaven on earth’ (le ciel ici-bas) the answer is Yes! Sufferings are seen as something so great, and so divine [260]; yet this vision requires unequivocal abandonment to Him [261], for only in Him can one persevere in offering these trials to Him, thereby ‘wounding His Heart of Love’ [262]. Allegorically, the wound of love is caused by an arrow of perseverance shot with love, since this appears to question Jesus Love [263]. It is beyond the comprehension of natural reason how, in the midst of suffering, one is able to share in the Joy out-pouring from His wounded Heart; nevertheless it is a well attested fact [264]. It is also a well attested fact that no-one can appreciate this joy, who has not tasted it; and no-one can taste it, who has not experienced suffering something for Jesus. No created joy can give any idea of that joy out-pouring from His wounded heart. “ eye hath not seen, nor ear heard: neither hath it entered into the heart of man, what things God hath prepared for those that love him.” 1 Cor.2:9).”

One cross that Sr Elizabeth carried in Carmel, was the suffering caused to her Mother by the ‘fiat’; and she would carry it for the rest of her days. Her compassion comes across in 7 letters from this period: Mother (5); ‘Rolland Aunts’ (2) [265]. Some phrases typical of these letters are: “It is not without suffering that one says goodbye to a Mama forever” [266]; her heart had bled thinking about her Mother’s Calvary [267]; and, she “really made her (Mother’s) heart bleed by entering Carmel” [268].

The Myrrh of Sacrifice.
Phrases such as, “Thinking of all that I have left for Him” [269], and, “I seem to have made nothing but sacrifices” [270], in Sr Elizabeth’s Letters relating to sacrifice, may come as quite a shock; as they often appeared unqualified by any reason for making a sacrifice. Sr Elizabeth’s own reason lay in her offering to the Bridegroom at her wedding feast, but what about her ‘non-religious’ correspondents? Although, “We must part with all we possess in order to possess Him” [271], and “Leave everything and fly to Him” [272], remedied that deficiency; it required, “ Sacrifice is a sacrament that gives God to us” [273], to impart dignity to what Sr Elizabeth had tacitly assumed. She went on to suggest that the special sacrifice which God loves us to offer to Him, is one from the heart [274]: such as she made on leaving her Mother [275]; and the sacrifice that her Mother had made earlier with her ‘fiat’’.

It is a fact of life that joy and sacrifice go side by side [276], for Scripture says, “If we have received good things at the hand of God, why should we not receive evil?” (Job 2:10). Now one of her aunts had defective eyesight and Sr Elizabeth was praying for a cure. When this seemed unlikely, she wrote that God may ask much in the way of sacrifice [277]; but never more than can be borne, and He always does so, that He may give more fully of Himself [278]. Sr Elizabeth illustrated this maxim, again, by reference to her own difficulties in the past over the choice of a suitable confessor [279]. It is interesting that the word ‘sacrifice’ appeared more often in her letters after she had written the ‘Prayer to the Trinity’: in one letter to her Mother it was used 5 times [280], and in another 4 times. She concluded the second letter with, “I wont say anything more about sacrifice” [281]!

The final offering of Sr Elizabeth to her Bridegroom at the wedding feast was the sacrifice of herself. Soon after Profession she sent flowers to her Rolland aunts from the Altar on which she had immolated herself [282]. Her longing for immolation even before entry into Carmel, was confirmed by a close friend years later [283]. Immolation is referred to in 5 letters [284] prior to her ‘Prayer to the Trinity’, but then not again until after she had entered the infirmary. For her, immolation was not something that happened just once at her Profession; it was the active giving of herself [285] to God, unceasingly [286], for the rest of her life: this was the only way to realise the ‘activity’ implicit in her favourite Pauline phrase, “And I live, now not I: but Christ liveth in me.” (Gal.2:20) [287]. Equally for her, immolation was not a prerogative of religious: it was available to anyone actively prepared to stay close to Jesus: the Jesus who lives in the soul, for

“He will teach you to suffer, to immolate yourself, to pray, to love.” [288].

This web site is dedicated to Sabeth by the owner for favours received. The aim is to share information about her life and times; to be aware of her Centenary; and to pray in support of the Cause for her Canonization.

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