The Extraordinary Parents of St. Thérèse of Lisieux. Helene Mongin

fervently. This preparation was unconnected to the action of grace that follows the receiving of every Eucharist, however: “I attended three Masses this morning. I went to the one at 6:00, I did my thanksgivings and said my prayers during the one at 7:00, and then I went back for the High Mass.”⁴⁸

      Mass was a priority, so all other activities were organized around it. It could require different arrangements, and we can admire the careful manner in which Zélie made provisions for it: “When you come home, dear Pauline, it will be more difficult; you like to sleep in the morning and to go to bed late…. I will figure out a way for both of you [Marie and Pauline] to go [to Mass] at different times. If at that time I am not still making Alençon lace, it will be very simple, but if not, I will have a dilemma. Well, we will just figure something out.”⁴⁹ Both Louis and Zélie maintained faithfulness to the Eucharist to a heroic degree when, in their final illnesses, they devoted their minimal capacity for movement to receiving it despite their suffering. They didn’t go to Mass as “consumers” but rather with the immense respect of those who know and love the ineffable mystery, the mystery of a God who abased himself to give himself to us.

      Recognizing the Eucharist as the most powerful prayer, they never ceased having recourse to it on behalf of the living as much as on behalf of the dead. Zélie, with a touch of humor, attributed the success of her brother’s exams to the Mass she offered for that intention. The Martins preferred to offer Masses for the dead instead of flower bouquets, and they placed every important intention on the Eucharistic table. With a group of friends in Alençon, Louis also participated every month in Nocturnal Eucharistic Adoration; it was so meaningful for him that he organized the Nocturnal Adoration in Lisieux.

      The Martins had great respect for every sacrament, in addition to the Eucharist. They preferred that an infant receive baptism almost immediately. They believed from the bottom of their hearts that baptism, by which a newborn passes through the death and resurrection of Christ, brings salvation to that soul, and that had more value in their eyes than the newborn’s life. God always came first. And they delighted in distributing more than four pounds of fine candies to all the children present, adding to the joy of the baptism.

      They each had a regular confessor and considered the Sacrament of Reconciliation the privileged instrument of divine mercy, not a burden.

      The Martins were bonded to their parish. The Catholic environment of Alençon together with the anticlerical political context resulted in the vivid intermingling of national and spiritual interests. In general, the liveliness of the Christian faith at that time was all on the surface, an outward rather than an inward reality. The Martins, however, while affirming their faith, didn’t engage in polemics and simply participated in the planned parish activities. They took part in liturgical feasts, processions, retreats, and the missions that took place no matter who the more-or-less appreciated preacher was: “For eight days now, we have had two missionaries who are giving three sermons a day. Neither one preaches better than the other, in my opinion. We go hear them anyway out of duty, and for me at least, it is an extra penance.”⁵⁰ Zélie still had a critical spirit, but she made the best of everything.

      Sunday the whole household went to High Mass, vespers, and sometimes the Divine Office evening prayers. Louis and Zélie appreciated beautiful liturgies. Zélie was disappointed about a particular ceremony in the month of May, commenting: “We hear unbearable songs that are like cooing that no one can understand; one would think we were at a café-concert and that annoys me! In earlier times, singing was more pious, so it seems that we are being more progressive now!”⁵¹—a reflection familiar to many people today!