Celine had become the most intimate sharer of my thoughts, especially since Christmas.  Our Lord, Who wished to make us advance in virtue together, drew us to one another by ties stronger than blood.  He made us sisters in spirit as well as in the flesh.  The words of our Holy Father, St. John of the Cross, were realised in us: 

        Treading within Thy Footsteps
        Young maidens lightly run upon the way. 
        From the spark’s contact,
        And the spiced wine,
        They give forth aspirations of a balm divine.

It was lightly indeed that we followed in the footsteps of Our Saviour.  The burning sparks which He cast into our souls, the strong wine which He gave us to drink, made us lose sight of all earthly things, and we breathed forth sighs of love.

Very sweet is the memory of our intercourse.  Every evening we went up to our attic window together and gazed at the starry depths of the sky, and I think very precious graces were bestowed on us then.  As the Imitation says:  “God communicates Himself sometimes amid great light, at other times sweetly in signs and figures."[6]

In this way He deigned to manifest Himself to our hearts; but how slight and transparent was the veil!  Doubt was no longer possible; already Faith and Hope had given place to Love, which made us find Him whom we sought, even on this earth.  When He found us alone—­“He gave us His kiss, and now no one may despise us."[7]

These divine impressions could not but bear fruit.  The practice of virtue gradually became sweet and natural to me.  At first my looks betrayed the effort, but, little by little, self-sacrifice seemed to come more easily and without hesitation.  Our Lord has said:  “To everyone that hath shall be given, and he shall abound."[8]

Each grace faithfully received brought many others.  He gave Himself to me in Holy Communion oftener than I should have dared to hope.  I had made it my practice to go to Communion as often as my confessor allowed me, but never to ask for leave to go more frequently.  Now, however, I should act differently, for I am convinced that a soul ought to disclose to her director the longing she has to receive her God.  He does not come down from Heaven each day in order to remain in a golden ciborium, but to find another Heaven—­the Heaven of our souls in which He takes such delight.

Our Lord, Who knew my desire, inspired my confessor to allow me to go to Communion several times a week, and this permission, coming as it did straight from Him, filled me with joy.

In those days I did not dare to speak of my inner feelings; the road which I trod was so direct, so clear, that I did not feel the need of any guide but Jesus.  I compared directors to mirrors who faithfully reflect Our Saviour to the souls under their care, and I thought that in my case He did not use an intermediary but acted directly.