|
Recently I posted that I was under the weather and reading a fascinating book comprised of the letters of our beloved Therese's mother and father from ST PAULS / Alba House. I wrote that I was disappointed that the book was coming to an end, because the stories of the Martin family were so amusing and heartfelt.
Let me be very clear: I rarely gush over books, but if you have a devotion to St. Therese or her holy parents, beatified in 2008, you must read this book. I adore Therese, but I also find her mother quite loveable and inspiring. The more I read her letters to her daughters Marie and Pauline at boarding school, her brother Isidore, and his wife Celine, the more I got to know this wonderful mother of the Little Flower. Her letters made me laugh, made me cry, and made me shake my head in awe at the disciplined, sorrowful, joyful, and holy life she led. I also found out, if I may be so bold, that we have a few things in common, Blessed Zelie and me. We share in the always awesome, sometimes challenging, and always holy apostolate of motherhood. We have the excitement of running our own businesses; she the owner of a successful business dedicated to Alencon lace, and me a Catholic publishing company We both felt divinely inspired to start these businesses, hearing a distinct Voice urging us on our paths. "See to the making of Alencon lace," God told Blessed Zelie. "You could do that, God told me inside a bookstore...
Everyone with a devotion to St. Therese should read these most intimate thoughts of her parents. We are so blessed to have these letters avaiable to welcome us into the home life of the Martin family. Blessed Zelie and Louis Martin have much wisdom to share. These are people who were entirely devoted to God, the Church, their family, and their community.
Even while dying, the selflessness and thoughts of others were on Blessed Zelie's heart: "The Poor Clares are also going to start a novena," she wrote on page 280, "but I don't like asking for prayers for myself because it would be better for me if it was for the intentions of others."
A Call to a Deeper Love is a call to all of us to accept whatever God brings in our lives with complete trust and confidence in Him. What greater role models could we have than these two extraordinary human beings, the parents of that great saint and Doctor of the Church, St. Therese? In this intimate book of letters, we see firsthand what Blessed Louis called "the intimate happiness of the family, and it is this beauty that brings us closer to Him." --Nancy Carabio Belanger, author of Olivia and the Little Way and Olivia's Gift
The two hundred and eighteen remarkable letters of Zelie Martin, 346 pages, form the bulk of this book. The 16 letters of Louis Martin would not cover 16 more pages except for the extensive footnotes therin of editor Dr. Frances Renda. Even when Renda in her introduction culled out and elaborated on the scattered references to Louis in his wife's letters, Louis is relatively absent in this treatise. Zelie's letters focused on their children, most written to her brother, to his wife, and to her daughter, Pauline, away at a boarding school. Renda laments that many other letters have been lost or destroyed.
Louis and Zelie had many friends among the clergy. They participated in different pious societies, and attended church events in surrounding towns near and far, many times bringing their older girls along. Louis' principal letters to the girls were written eight years after Zelie's death during a two-month pilgrimage to shrines in Germany, Austria and Italy. Unfortunately there are no letters depicting the relationship of Louis with the girls, as with Therese, so charmingly presented in her Story of a Soul. If Zelie's love was all encompassing, Louis' love was spiced with a lot of fun.
What a struggle it was to stay alive in the nineteenth century! Of the nine children of the Martin family, four died in infancy or childhood. The other five were survivors of days and nights of worry for their parents. Zelie and Louis feared that every cold, every fever was going to take yet another. The childhood diseases took so many for which there was no effective remedy in those days.
Zelie herself died of aggressive breast cancer a the age of 45 leaving their youngest, Therese, a child of four years. Until that time she and Louis had managed very successful enterprises to provide a very comfortable life and good education for the family. Ten years previously Louis sold his clock and watch making business to give more attention to the children and to support Zelie's very successful lace-making business that ran right out of their home.
Zelie had to work and write letters early in the morning before her daily Mass at the nearby parish, and late at night after the kids were in bed. She always made time to respond to the poor whether at her door or with Louis tracking them down in the town. Though their life style was middle class they shunned socializing with the well-to-do, showing an option for work, study, prayer, and family events.
To help with the household chores they hired a maid, as well as wet-nurses for the infants as they came along. Generally, the wet-nurses took the child they nursed to their own home. This required discernment by both parents about the choice of wet-nurses, and then frequent visits to stay informed of the condition of the infants. Imagine watching three infants in a row die, a girl and two boys! Then came Therese, the last of the nine, who in God's providence survived her childhood to write her story.
Louis and Zelie wre immersed in the 19th century Catholic piety, God's province in everything for weal or woe. No matter the troubles, the Martins believed in God as a provident, loving Father. Dr. Renda's introduction and section on the historical, social and religious background of nineteenth century France helps immensely one's appreciation of these letters. Great photos and footnotes also help. An appendix helps the reader order the dramatic story of these two remarkable parents and their nine equally remarkable children. --Father Peter C. Hinde, O.Carm. in Carmelite Review, Summer/Fall 2011.
Top of Page |
