Writing to Maurice on the day after Christmas, Thérèse endeavored to initiate him into the mystery and the meaning of suffering.
“Our Lord never asks us for sacrifices that are beyond our strength. … When he asks the sacrifice of all that is most dear in this world it is impossible … not to cry out as He did Himself in the Garden of His agony: ‘Father, let this chalice pass from me … nevertheless, not my will but Yours be done.’ It is most consoling to remember that Jesus, the Strong God, experienced our weakness. … Monsieur l’Abbé, your lot is truly beautiful, since Our Lord … first put His Own lips to the cup which He now holds up to yours.”
If he was to be a missionary, he had to be ready to suffer in union with Christ. But he should not worry that he was not yet a saint. Neither was she, she assured him.
“Monsieur l’Abbé, … pray for me, who am no angel as you seem to think, but a poor little Carmelite who is very imperfect—yet who in spite of her poverty wants, like yourself, to work for the glory of God.”
She still had a way to go on her journey, though she was close by now to its end. Maurice had a much longer road to travel on his, but she never doubted that he would reach the journey’s goal, nor that she would be able to help him along his way.