God oriented their desire for holiness toward the state in life in which they would blossom the most: marriage, and in particular parenthood. Louis and Zélie recognized God’s call to have many children and—in their lovely phrase—“to raise them for heaven.”13 Contrary to their initial ideas, it was not in spite of marriage but in and through marriage that they were to become holy.
The couple they became was based on a solid friendship full of tenderness and cooperation that the years only served to deepen. After five years of marriage, Zélie wrote: “I am still very happy with him; he makes life very pleasant. My husband is a holy man, and I wish that all women could have such husbands.”14 Whenever Zélie talked to someone about her husband, she couldn’t help always adding the same adjective, “my good Louis.” It’s a small word, but it sheds a lot of light on their relationship. More than friendship, however, one can see the enormous place they had in each other’s hearts through the feeling of loss they experienced when they were occasionally separated. The letters they wrote to each other at those times demonstrated all the vibrancy of a love full of tenderness. Away on a trip with the children to visit her brother and his wife, Zélie wrote:
The children are delighted, and if the weather were good they would be at the height of happiness. But as for me, I find relaxation difficult! None of all that interests me! I am absolutely like a fish out of water that is not in its element and must perish! If my trip were to be prolonged, it would have that same effect for me. I’m uncomfortable and out of sorts, which affects my body and I’m almost sick because of it. Meanwhile, I try to reason with myself and rally from the sickness. I follow you in spirit all day long; I say to myself, “He is doing this or that right now.” I am longing to be near you, my dear Louis. I love you with all my heart, and my affection for you is increasing because I am deprived of your presence; it would be impossible for me to live apart from you…. I embrace you and I love you.”15
Does this sound like the excitement of a young married woman in love? Not in this case. This letter was written after fifteen years of marriage. Louis had become Zélie’s “element.” And when Louis in turn had to leave home for business, he wrote with his characteristic thoughtfulness:
My dear Friend, I cannot come back to Alençon until Monday. The time seems long to me, and I’m eager to be near you. I don’t need to tell you that your letter brought me great pleasure, except that I see you’re tiring yourself out too much. So I recommend calm and moderation, especially in your work. I have a few orders from the Lyons Company. Once again, don’t worry so much; we will end up, with God’s help, at having a nice little business. I was happy to receive communion at Notre-Dame des Victoires, which is like a little earthly paradise. I also lit a candle there for the whole family. I embrace you with all my heart while I await the joy of being reunited to you. I hope that Marie and Pauline are being very good! Your husband and true friend, who loves you for life.16
These rare letters reveal a cooperation that withstood the years and the minor difficulties that we can sometimes read between the lines. “When you receive this letter, I will be busy rearranging your work bench, so don’t get mad,” Zélie once wrote. “I will lose nothing, not an old square piece, not the end of a spring, nothing. And then it will be clean all over! You will not be able to say, ‘You only shifted the dust around’ because there will not be any…. I embrace you with all my heart; I am so happy today at the thought of seeing you again that I cannot work. Your wife, who loves you more than her own life.”17 The last words Zélie ever wrote to Louis were, “I am all yours.”18
Her letters and the testimony of her daughters let us see the kind of wife she was: joyful, lively, tender, open to everyone, confident of her husband, and full of humor, with a special gift for making fun of herself. The contrast is striking in terms of how she perceived herself as anguished, depressed, and far from holy. Anguish was present throughout her whole life, and she affirmed at times it was a veritable torment for her. When trials became too heavy, she let herself be overcome by what she called “dark thoughts,” but more and more her faith and the supportive presence of Louis helped her to overcome her suffering.
Zélie was a strong and holy woman not because she was without fears and weaknesses, but because despite them she gave of herself generously to others and to God, with a trust that was always wholehearted. Her great sensitivity gave her an exquisite discernment about others. Moreover, she was a woman of action. She worked for her family and in her business without letup and without taking time to coddle herself. Sensing within the need to give herself permanently, she responded with so much generosity that she died with her needle in her hand, so to speak, without ever having the least bit of rest.
Céline described her mother during the process of beatification of Thérèse as being gifted with a superior intelligence and extraordinary energy. Zélie described herself, without realizing it, when she wanted to instruct her brother on a choice for a good wife: “The main thing is to look for a good woman who is domestic, who is not afraid to get her hands dirty when she works, who does not spend time on her appearance except for what is necessary, and who knows how to raise children to work and to be holy.”19 Of course, all this advice lacks any romanticism. Louis and Zélie didn’t lack a romantic side, but at a time when marriages of love were the exception, Zélie’s advice demonstrates the common sense of a woman from Normandy. Zélie was a good wife for Louis, and he was very complimentary of her.
Calm and thoughtful, he assumed the responsibility for the family and supported his wife with great tenderness. People often said that he was a gentle man, at times implying that he was a bit soft, but he was far from being soft, and he was just as hardworking as his wife. His extreme gentleness at the end of his life—so striking to those around him—was acquired more by a faithful practice of charity than by any innate characteristic of his. Thérèse would say that, following the example of St. Francis de Sales, he had managed to master his natural vivacity to the point that he seemed to have the sweetest nature in the world.
Louis took concern for others no less than Zélie did. He was above all a man of great uprightness, tolerating neither injustice nor hypocrisy. His determined temperament was fully in play when it was a question of fighting for spiritual causes or against inequities. Despite not liking to write, he pestered officials with his letters to help a needy man be admitted into a home for the elderly. Zélie’s goodness softened his sharp angles, inspiring him by her example to have more mercy toward an undeserving worker or stopping him from getting too wrapped up in solitude. In addition to sharing the same native milieu, similar social ideas, generous hearts, and energy put to good use, Louis and Zélie had in common a preference for work that required finesse and patience, and, above all, they both had a thirst for God.
According to the unanimous testimony of their daughters and their family letters, the communication