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R A B B O N I

Heart to Heart

Before

The Tabernacle

BY J. S. E.

TWENTY-THIRD THOUSAND





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Die 15. Aprilis 1920.

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Archiepiscopus Cincinnatensis

Die 17. Aprilis 1920.

Copyright, 1920

URSUL1NE NUNS
East McMillan St.

Cincinnati. O.



{$\orefaorb.

H
ERE, dear reader, is another charming

devotional work from the heart and

the pen of the author of the “Spiritual

Pastels.” I am sure it will appeal to you and

to many a soul, hungry and athirst after jus-

tice, as much, if not more, than did the “Pas-

tels.”

The little book has been christened “Rab-

boni. Heart to Heart Before the Tabernacle,”

because its every page speaks heart to heart

with Him, Who from His Altar is forever
pleading: “Come to Me, and I will refresh

you.”

There are many souls, who yearn for more

fervor in their visits to the Blessed Sacrament

and in their Communions. This “fire of an

ardent desire,” as a holy writer calls fervor,

needs constant kindling. “Rabboni,” dear

reader, will set the smoldering flame aglow

and keep it burning. You will find in it some-

thing for every mood of your mind and every

feeling of your heart. It will inspire you and

aid you to plead more humbly, to beg more

confidently, to be more grateful and patient

and resigned and charitable, like your Divine

Master, and you will arise and go forth from

1 lis Presence, saying, while your heart burns

with you, “Be glad. O my soul, and give
thanks to God for so noble a gift and so singular

a solace left to me in this vale of tears.”

JOSEPH M. WOODS, S.J.

Woodstock College,

St. Joseph's Dav,

March 19
, 1920.





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M
Y cherished Rabboni, it is sweet

to kneel here in Thy presence.

It is a joy to know that Thy

dear Eyes are resting upon me,—that
no part of my soul is hidden from

Thee,—that every aspiration, every
longing, every desire is known to Thee.

What dost Thou think of my soul,

my darling Lord?

Does it reflect a little of Thy beauty?

Does it seem to be ridding itself of

the marks of sin?

Is there anything to which I cling

that prevents Thy grace from working

freely therein?

There are times when I think I am

rather free from scar and stain, that

my battles have left but glory in their

train; and then again as I kneel at

Thy dear Feet, sweet Lord, a conscious-

ness of Thy great purity pours in upon

me and my poor bedraggled soul looks
* as though no ray of light had ever

broken in upon it, as though my cher-

9



ished Rabboni had never taken shelter

within its gloomy depths.

How long it takes, beloved Lord, to

polish and refine this dwelling place

of my beloved King!

But even this, sweet Lord, cannot

make me sad, for I know that Thou

art working daily in my souk— I know
that each time Thou comest to my

soul. Thou takest away some defect

and doth purify me of some stain.—

I

know too the day will come when I

shall be pure and pleasing in Thy sight.

I long so to be a storehouse from

which others may draw the strength

and encouragement to reach Thee.

I yearn to be filled with peace so full,

that it may overflow into the hearts

of others.

I pray that every one who comes

near me may be attracted to Thee, my

cherished Rabboni.

I know there is much to be given

away, my darling Lord, before Peace

takes up her abode in the soul,— I know
10



that I must not reach out in desire for

those things which destroy peace,—

I

know that I must not seek honor,

praise, consideration, preference, but

that I must bend all my energy to give

honor, praise, consideration, and prefer-

ence to others.

My dear King, I am willing to give
up every thing,— I am willing to sacri-
fice every satisfaction to win Peace.

—

I am willing to give up my will in every

circumstance to purchase Peace.—

I

want to empty my heart of every self-

seeking in order that peace and love

and strength may enter.

0 my cherished Rabboni, let me be
Thy little servant giving out these

precious gifts to all whom Thou sendest

along my pathway. Let me overflow

with Peace,—overflow into the troubled
hearts of others. Let me pour love

into the sad and lonely hearts in the

world. Let me strengthen the weak

wills and steady the steps of Thy way-

ward children.

O dearest King, take me and use me
as Thou wilt. Give me nothing that

11



this world treasures. Pay no heed to

the dryness of my poor timid nature,
but let me be Thy tool,—Thy lowly,
humble tool,—happy to be used by my
cherished Rabboni in His fashioning of

souls for His Mansion of eternal joy

and peace unending.

12



timber anh Jijorgi&mg

(Cmtfesstotu)

Tender Lord, art Thou willing that

I should kneel before Thee ere I make

my way to beg absolution of Thy Priest?

I want to thank Thee, sweet for-

giving Lord, for Thy powerful grace

that has shone so brightly upon my

soul, revealing to me stains long since

forgotten,—wounds of years gone by,
which, though confessed and forgiven,

have left their mark behind.

I scarce know what words to utter

to my darling, tender Lord, for while

I grieve for having caused Thee pain,

I long to fly to Thee in love and con-

fidence.

It may be, sweet Lord, that my soul

is not scarred with crime and vice,

great shame if it were, but are not my

infidelities, my coldness and my re-

sistance to grace as painful in Thy

sight on a soul so steeped in grace, as

are the mortal wounds on the soul of

an ignorant, pitiful sinner?

My soul, darling Lord, my soul,
flooded with light and inundated with

13



grace, is weighed down and heavy with

the vapors of the world, nauseated

and bewildered with its incessant whirl.

Insensible to Thy sweet influence,

deaf to the pleadings of Thy Voice,

heedless of Thy constant knocking at

my heart, indifferent to Thy appeal,

I turn from Thee day after day, my

tender Christ, nor do I hasten to re-

turn; but Thou, in Thy exquisite

mercy, comest to me and I hear Thee

whisper to my soul:
—
“Come to me,

all ye, who are weary and heavily

laden and I will refresh you.“

Beloved Lord, forgive me. I grieve

for having pained Thee, because I love

Thee who art so good, so true, so

patient.

Thou hast waited for me time and

time again, on the roadside of life and

I have passed Thee by. Thou hast

whispered to me in the midst of the

pleasures of the world. Thou hast called

to me through the din of merry voices

and I have not listened,

—

I have not

heeded, but rushed on madly, bowing

and paying court to the votaries of

fashion and of mirth.

14



I cast myself into Thy dear sacred

Arms and beg Thee to take from me

my load of infidelities. Cleanse me

from my sins, beloved Lord, and heal

me of my wounds.

Let Thy tender Hand rest upon my

breast, sweet Saviour, and quiet the

passions that surge therein. Place Thy

Finger as a seal upon my lips that I

may utter naught that may offend

Thee, my beloved King.

Oh! Why have I ever pained Thee?

Why have. I not loved Thee always and

served Thee with all the strength and

nobility of my heart?

I love Thee now, my dearest Lord.

Take my heart. It is Thine. May it

never pain Thee more. May it never

stray from Thee. May it never seek

repose outside of Thee.

Were it to happen, dearest King,

that I should think to find rest and

peace away from Thee,—were I to
look for contentment outside of Thee,

let me drink of bitterness and sorrow

until driven back to Thee, my King,

my Lord, my tender and forgiving

Friend.

15



(Suarittmt nf (Jltg JinuL

Lord Jesus, divine Guardian of my

soul, teach me to pray every hour of

my life. Teach me to keep myself

united to Thee at every step I take.

My days are full of social duties and
my nights are passed amid the lights

of fashion and the glare of worldly

glory.

It seems an empty life, sweet Lord.

It weighs heavily upon my heart at

times. It wearies me with its inces-

sant call, and its empty laughter sick-

ens me and I would wish to bury

myself in some secluded corner where

blooms the flower of peace, and where

truth and sincerity sweeten the air

with their precious fragrance.

But, my King, my Lord, this cannot

be. I cannot run away. I must stay

at my post and listen to the monoton-

ous jingle of empty words, and smile

and laugh at the tinseled pageantry

as it passes and repasses before my

weary eyes.

16



Dearest Lord, is there not some way,

while steeped in the sea of the world,

that I can weave into my life an eternal

value that will be to Thee a token of

my love, a proof of my desire to live

closely bound to Thee while threading

my way through this maze of unsteady

lights, my lips pressed to the empty

cups of pleasure?

Divine Lord, there must be some

way by which I can love Thee with all

my heart,—by which I can exult in
the presence of my Master in my soul

and still stand at my post amid all the

light and dazzle of the world.

Dear Lord, it must be so, else how

could I have this ever eager longing

to possess Thee, to serve Thee, to live

for Thee while forming a part of the

great procession of seekers after pleas-

ure.

Since it must be that I tarry yet a

while amid this froth and bubble,

teach me, my cherished Lord, how to

bring to this whirl of social gayeties,

the fragrance of Heaven and the in-

fluence of the King of Heaven.

17



I wish to play well my part. I wish

so to move in the circle of society, as to

gain, at every moment. Thy approval,

my divine and loving Lord.

While seated at the bountiful tables

of the Rich, help me to keep my heart

lifted above the natural satisfaction of

the moment.

While striving that my dress should

be in keeping with my station, grant

that it may never offend Thee in the

slightest degree, dearest Lord, and that

I may sacrifice anything that might

wound modesty.

While mingling with the everyday

chatter of the card table and the inces-

sant rush to the theatre, help me never

to let fall a word to mar charity nor

the exquisite beauty of Purity.

As I go my rounds from one dis-

traction to another, let me whisper,

from time to time, my Lord, a word of

love to Thee, so that my life, dressed

as it is in the garb of worldliness, may

prove to be a life lived in the super-

natural, full of power for good and

strong in its purpose of sanctity.

18



Teach me, beloved Lord, to be good

gracefully. Let my striving after Thee

be so well-tempered that my efforts

may not jar on others.

May my life be so pure and so up-

right that Thou wilt take up Thy

abode within me, beautifying my ac-

tions, sweetening my words, ennobling

my thoughts so that I may attract

many souls to Thee,—so that I may
help others, weary of the emptiness of

worldly fame and shallow glory, to

seek Thee as their strength and com-

fort and, while burning incense at these

tawdry shrines, to murmur unceas-

ingly Thy name, divinest Lord, and

to become daily more and more. Thy

true disciples, Thy ardent admirers.

Thy loyal slaves.

19



of JicmL

Divine Healer of my soul, dear

Physician, tender Father, look upon

my wounds, my scars, my seared and

ulcered soul.

Lord Jesus, wilt Thou heal me?

I am troubled with many ills,—my
miseries are great,—my weakness sad
to look upon.

I wonder, dearest Lord, that I ven-

ture to come so close to Thee! Even

nearer would I draw, lower would I

bend beside Thee, for, dearest Lord,

it is only the touch of Thy dear Hand

that can soothe my open wounds,

—

only the sound of Thy dear Voice that

can fill my soul with courage,—only
the love of Thy dear Heart that can

reassure and make my life abound in

joy and peace and eager striving after

good.

Tender Healer of my soul. Thou

knowest how weak I am. Thou hast

seen my many falls. Thou knowest,

too, that when with certain persons I

20



fear to acknowledge Thee, lest they

think me prudish and unworldly. Thou

knowest well, dear Guardian of my

soul, how often Thy sweet and gentle

voice has called to me and I have paid

no heed; Thy kind face has chided

me and I have turned away my eyes;

Thou hast asked for shelter, stood ex-

pectant at the door of my heart, but I

have been busy with other quests and

there was no room for Thee, my Lord.

Lord Jesus, I am weary of it all

—

weary of the struggle to keep in touch

with Thee and yet not displease the

world;—weary striving to silence the
longing of my heart for the stable

things of life;—weary of the endless
demands of the world and the empti-

ness of its promise.

Beloved Healer of my soul, give me

strength to battle with this never-

ceasing, all-enduring array of difficul-

ties that meet me at every step. Give

me light to see that all that glitters is

not gold, the grace to understand that

there is but one thing necessary,

—

my salvation; and that every sacrifice

no matter how painful, is as dross com-

21



pared with the reward in store for

me and that nothing on earth can

satisfy my heart.

Grant me to realize that no joy here

can be complete, no pleasure give full

contentment, no honor quench the

thirst- of my soul for the imperishable

glory of Heaven.

Let me turn my steps towards Thee,

sweet Lord, before age has crept upon

me. Let me not wait until the vase

is shattered, the flower withered and

its fragrance spent upon the desert air.

No, beloved Lord,—no. Accept now
the offering of my life, surrounded by

its pleasures and cares, its joys and

sorrows, its hopes and disappointments.

Let nothing prevent me from keep-

ing my heart lifted to Thee, so that, in

the midst of all the distractions of life,

I may move on towards Thee, my divine

Healer, my loved Physician, my tender

Father. May I also draw others to

the feet of Him who is the Way, the

Truth, the Life and Joy Eternal.

22



Jjfroub, Counsellor,

A P«S*
My divine Lord, I adore Thee here

before me in the Tabernacle, I love

Thee and know that Thou lovest me

and art pleased that I have come to

speak to Thee.

I love to come and kneel at Thy

Sacred Feet. I love to tell Thee how

much I long to resemble Thee in Thy

kindness and goodness and truth.

Dearest Lord, grant that I may love

Thee with a love that will keep me

ever mindful of the higher things of

life,—with a love that will make me
go about my duties with a cheerfulness

and graciousness that will bring joy

to the hearts of others,—with a love
that will help me to carry my cross with

nobility and dignity, as one would

carry some precious treasure.

Grant, my dearest Friend, that I may

find comfort in drawing near to Thee,

—that each time my heart rests near
Thine, it may become more tender,

more patient, more generous.

23



Sweet King, grant that some of

Thy beautiful spirit may penetrate

into the very marrow of my bones,

—

that my thoughts may become broad

and noble,—my words pure and gentle,
—my actions, dignified and gracious,
—my aspirations, Godward,—my will
strong and determined.

Dear Counsellor of my soul, make

known to me just what Thou wouldst

have me do and say and think,, so that

each day I may become better,—each

day less selfish,—each day jnore like
to the Heart of my Friend,- my Coun-

sellor, and my King.

0 my own sweet Lord; change me;

work in me; take from me all that

pains Thee,—all that is a disappoint-
ment to Thee,;—all that keeps me from
becoming the strong and noble woman

that I long to be. : I

Take my heart, my King, my gra-

cious Lord, and give me Thine that I,

like Thee, may go about doing good and

making others happy. Work so freely

in me, divine Master, that Thy Pres-

ence in me may attract others to follow

after Thee and may they find virtue

24



the most engrossing interest in life, and

the practice of goodness a source of

joy and satisfaction.

Good-bye, my divine and cherished

King, I am going out into the world

now. I wonder will anyone feel that I

come from Thee? That I have been

close, quite close to Sanctity? That

I have been speaking to the greatest

and tenderest of Friends? That I

have been listening to the kindest and

wisest of Counsellors?

I do hope some one will feel it, dear-

est Lord. I should be disappointed

did 1 know that I had none of the

fragrance of the Tabernacle about me,

—for Thou knowest, divinest Lord,
that I want people to know that I am

Thy little slave. Thy willing tool. Thy

servant, and Thy child. But, sweet

Master, how can they know this unless

there be some mark upon me, unless

something in me makes them think of

Thee?

I shall begin by being kind to every

one, so kind that those who see me

will wonder where I learned it and will

watch and find that I come daily to

25



1visit Thee, my King, and they will

guess the secret, and will come to Thee

themselves. Then I shall be Thy little

conquerer too, conquering souls and

leading them gently to Thy Feet.

Good-bye once more, my tender,

loving Lord, I shall come to Thee again

tomorrow. Now I am going out to

work for Thee by thinking of Thee,

loving Thee, and smiling for Thee, my

tender Friend, my patient Counsellor,

my great and wondrous King.

26



,J$lg ^tiabtb (§>mb£ anh Monster.

(Retreat—Jfftrsi ^ag.)

‘‘Come and rest awhile, my child,

—

away from the noise and tumult of the
world.—Come and rest with Me. Alone
together let us talk over the needs of

your dear soul, the aspirations of your

heart.”

Tis thus I hear Thee speak, my
dearest Guide and Master, from out the

depths of Thy much-loved Tabernacle.

Prostrate before Thee, my cherished
Guide, I humbly beg the grace to pass
these few days of prayer, in all rever-

ence, recollection and love.

Divine Master, throw upon my heart
the search-light of Thy all-seeing Eye
that 1 may know the weaknesses that
have made my life imperfect in Thy
sight, that I may see the spots of
leprosy that so disfigure me and the
ravages of the worm of pride that have
gnawed into the fabric of my soul.

What has been the influence of
others upon me? What has been my
influence upon them?

27



As I look back over my life, I see it

full of pleasures,
sprinkled here and

there, with gayeties and frivolities
of

every kind;—or perhaps laden with
disappointments, worries, sorrows,

and

annoyances. A full life indeed!

In Thine Eyes has it been full,
be-

loved Master ? This is the
point.

This is the only point worthy
of con-

sideration.

Have these pleasures, these social

duties, with which my days are well-

nigh full,—have they so weighed down
my heart as to make it difficult for

me to lift it to higher things? Have

they so dulled my mind as to make me

blind to my greater duties? Have

they so vitiated my taste as to leave

me no relish for Holy Communion?

Or if my life has felt the pressure of

the Cross, if trials have beset my path,

have these burdens embittered me ?

Have they weakened me? Have they

led me to seek comfort in more dis-

traction, in the pleasures of the
world?

The world can never sweeten the

bitterness of the Cross. .The world

'28



can never smooth the edge of trial.

I know all this, dearest Master, yet

when the sorrow weighs on me I turn

for help to the paltry things of life.

What will it matter, a few years

hence, whether or no I have been

popular,—whether or no I have eked
out of life all the pleasure it could

give? But it will matter if through the

pleasure and through the pain, I have

kept my soul untouched by sin and

pleasing in Thy sight, my cherished

Lord.

Lay Thy Hand upon my head, dear-

est Master, and bless my Retreat.

Give me the grace to drive from my

mind all thought of the world. Let

me spend these days retired, alone with

Thee. Silent, too, that I may hear

Thy Voice and listen to Thy dear Will

in my regard.

Beloved Guide and cherished Master,

help me to realize the responsibilities

of life
,

—my responsibilities. Make me
understand that I have a great work to

do and that it is not by chance that 1

am here in this world. I am here for

the sole purpose of becoming good,

—

29



good as Thou dost understand goodness,

not as the votaries of the world would

have it.

It is not by chance that I am here

for this Retreat. It is a time of tre-

mendous obligation as well as of tre-

mendous grace, of deep-searching light,

and of strength to do the right, no

matter what the cost.

Let it then be to me, divinest Guide,

a lifelong good, the opening to a life of

holiness and of familiar knowledge of

the Master of light and love and un-

ending peace.

30



<4% pfe, flight, ittg j^trtmglb-

(Jtetrart

—

^Bcntth JagJ

Beloved Lord, this is the second day

of my Retreat, If the first has not

been so well spent as I should have

wished, nor so silent as I had promised

it should be, I shall strive that today

may be better.

I beg of Thee, true Life of my soul,

to penetrate my heart with Thy light.

Let me feel Thy Presence. Let me

feel the need I have of Thee.

Grant that things of the world may

not have so great a hold on me,—that
they may not blind me to the real

value of life.

Although I am not worldly to any

great extent,—although I receive Thee,
sweet Lord, quite frequently in Holy

Communion and am faithful to the re-

quirements of the Church,—although
I see nothing in my heart that startles
or affrights me—still I know for all
that, my life, my inner life, my true life,
the life that counts in Thy sight, may

31



be very shallow, very shabby, empty

of the things of real worth.

I realize, divine Master, that no

matter how crowded with human affairs

my days may be,—no matter how
many social wheels I turn, unless I

live a life cf prayer, earnestly striving

to grow daily better, more kind and

more thoughtful of others; unless I

accept the difficulties of every day life

with patience and carry my cross with

a cheerful and loving heart; unless I

do this, my life is of very little worth.

Teach me, beloved Strength of my

soul, to have recourse to prayer in

every event of life. Let me feel the

need of the Blessed Sacrament. When

my heart is sad, or wounded,—or I am
worried, disappointed, or perhaps chaf-

ing under some unkindness, draw me

to Thee, tender Master. Make me

realize that at such times Thy strength

alone can be of any help to me.

If my lips cannot utter a syllable, let

me at least kneel in silence before Thee.

What need hast Thou, kind Light of

my soul, what need hast Thou, that I

should tell Thee that I suffer? Thou

32



knowest the pains hidden from all the

world, the annoyances that I must bear

alone, heartaches that checker my

entire life, the endless chafing that robs

life of its glow, and weighs heavily upon

my untempered heart.

Teach me, beloved Lord, to profit

by the suffering that comes across my

path. Let me so use it that it may

mellow me, not harden and embitter

me,—that it may make me patient, not
irritable,—broad in my forgiveness,
not narrow, haughty, and overbearing.

Bless then this second day, dearest

Master. Grant that I may better

understand myself and what Thou

expectest of me.

Let my day be one of more serious

thought and reflection,—an opening
out of a broader, more unselfish life,

a life more in touch with Thine,

sweet Lord, so that from now on

every thought, word, and act may be

rich in good to my own soul, may over-

flow into the souls of others and may

give pleasure to my beloved King who

is my Life, my Light, my Strength,

and my everlasting Joy.
33



©either JS’fyejrfyerh of 4H0 JiouL

(^Retreat
—

’Qlljtrit ^pag.)

The time is drawing to a close,

tender Shepherd of my soul, when I no

longer may pass the day with Thee.

I must go out into the world and take

up the same duties. I shall meet the

same people and I shall perhaps be

thrown in the same occasions wherein

before I fell.

Now what am I going to do, dear

Shepherd? Will I battle for awhile

and then fall exhausted by the way-

side?

Through these days of quiet, peace-

ful thought, have I not learned to

know Thee better, dearest Shepherd,

to understand the true meaning of

Life?

Do I not realize that it is an effort

to be good,—that it is a struggle, a
constant struggle to prevent myself

from being drawn into the mighty

world-current surging about me?

When the ideals of my associates fall

below those Thou hast given me, divine

34



Lord, shall I hold back and tremble

to face their sneer, their cold and

piercing gaze? Or will the thought of

Thee, sweet Shepherd, be my strength

and steady me to be true to my King?

It is very hard, divine Lord, but I

can hear Thy reassuring Voice with its

promise of victory.

Divine Shepherd of my soul, I have

a deep longing to be good, but a great

fear of the pressure of external things

and at times I lose sight of Thy beauti-

ful Face which today is a charm to me.

Today I have an ardent desire to lead

an entirely new life, a high super-

natural life. I feel today as though

no cloud, no hardship, no suffering

could deter me from being good.

“If the skies are dark and low.

And the waves run fast and free.

Oh! what to me are the clouds?

What are the waves to me?

Out on the offing there

A form in light I see.”

Grant, beloved Lord, that all through

the coming years Thy beautiful' Form

may stand out before me, no matter

how great be the storms that rage in

35



my bosom,—no matter how thick and
dense be the fogs that close in about

me.

“Stand, my beautiful Lord,

So that Thy Face I see.

That its smile and Thine outstretched Arms

My beacon light may be.
And what to me shall be foaming wave

But foothold to come to Thee.

“All through the coming years.

Call, keep calling to me

And clamp the trust in my heart

That shall steady my steps to Thee,

Then catch me up in Thine Arms at last

And bear me where I would be.”

Bless then, tender Shepherd of my

soul, this last day of my Retreat. Let

me pass it in close union with Thee.

Let it be a day of preparation for Thy

coming tomorrow in Holy Communion.

I want my heart to be swept and gar-

nished for the coming of my Lord.

Touch then my heart with Thy

never-failing grace that every passion

may be silenced that others may behold

Thee in me and may there be nothing

of myself remaining.

36



JM? Communion



I WISH TO GIVE MYSELF TO YOU IN

THE HOLY EUCHARIST.



'ffivBpnratxan fnr Cammummu

My dearly beloved Lord, behold me
in Thy presence, my heart yearning

to be worthy to receive Thee tomor-

row.

Some time ago I came to Thee poor

and weak and sickly, blind of soul, with

spots of leprosy upon me. What am I

today? Have I changed any since

I last clasped Thee to my heart? Have

I begun to show the influence of Thy

Presence, my beloved Lord? Am I
stronger since I last feasted on the

Bread of Angels?

Have 1 been kinder in my words,

more forbearing in my dealings with

others? Can I kneel here before Thee,

my beloved Lord,—before Thee who
knowest every emotion of my heart,

who knowest how hard I am in my

judgments, how full of bitterness and

sarcasm? Can I kneel before Thee,

my dearest Lord, and feel that I am

worthy to receive Thee?

Art Thou willing to come to my heart,

—Thou who art so pure, so good, so
39



true,—to me who am so weak, so
scarred, so besmirched and marred?

Oh, change me, my beloved Lord!

—

Change my heart, dearest Saviour,

and make it a power for good.

Take away from me all that is a

cause of pain to Thee,—all that keeps
Thy grace from working freely in my

soul.

I am ready to conquer myself. I

long to do much for Thee, but I give

way so easily and then become dis-

couraged.

But, dearest Lord, stay by me.

When Thou seest me weak and tot-

tering, remember what I say tonight.

I offer myself to Thee that Thou

mayest mould me, that Thou mayest

impress upon me the greatness there

is in virtue, the joy of self-conquest and

the happiness of being all in all to

others.

Receive me then, my Jesus, as Thy

child. I love Thee and wish to learn

to know Thee better, day by day, that

I may resemble Thee ever more and

more.

40



©fjanksgt&tng ^fter Jllnlg

(Communion^

Dearest Saviour, beloved of my soul.

Thou art clasped within my poor but

loving heart.

I adore Thee my King, my Friend,

my Lord.

I love Thee with all the ardor of my

soul and I thank Thee for accepting

the shelter of my wayward heart.

My Saviour, I do not realize the
greatness of Thy Gift to me but I love

Thee oh! so deeply and wish that I

did love Thee more, that I might be

transformed in Thee and Thou in me;

that I might catch Thy sweet and

gentle ways and imitate Thy beautiful

treatment of others.

Would that my life in the midst of

the world showed that I had come in

contact with Thee, my Jesus; that,

like the woman in the Gospel, I had

been cured of all my miseries by the

touch of Thy garment.

Oh! my sweet Lord, I have done

more than this poor woman. I have

41



held Thee in my arms in Holy Com-

munion. Nay more. Thou hast come

into my heart and made of my poor

weak body a shelter for Thine own.

Why then am I not more like the

Guest who rests within my bosom?

Why do I not borrow His ways and

throw aside all that savors of myself?

Why do I not fling aside my sharp and

cutting manners and clothe myself

with Thy sweet and gentle ways?

I know that with Thy grace I can

so change myself as to make this heart

of mine a power for good, a force to

urge to higher thoughts, to nobler

words, to stronger actions, those who

come under my influence. I not only

know that I may do this, but that I

must do it if I wish to fulfill my mission

in the world.

If I thought frequently of this, how

different would I be? If I realized

the times unnumbered that Thou

dost stand at my heart-door knocking

for admittance,—begging for permis-
sion to make me worthy to join Thee,

my beloved Lord, in Thy quest for

souls,—if I realized this, how different
42



I would be! My actions then would be
full of gentleness, of kindness, of sym-

pathy, and of unselfishness. They

would be a living, visible proof that

Thy yoke is sweet and Thy burden

light.

Oh ! then take my heart, my Jesus.
Transform it into Thine, prune and

cut as Thou seest fit. Hold me near to

Thee, Lord, that I may not wander

back into my selfish ways.

O my own dear Lord, lay Thy hand

in blessing upon me that I may be

strong and valiant and firm in my re-

solve to be good.

Grant that -amid all the pleasures

that await me, one Voice may whisper

in my ear, one Hand guide me on my

way, one Face be ever before my eyes,

—Thy Face, my own dear Lord, Thy
sweet, kind Face, a Beacon Light in

all my doubts, ? solace in my pains, a

joy forever.

48



preparation for Polg fflnmmumatt.

Tonight I bring my heart to Thee,

my dearest Jesus, to Thee I dedicate it.

Unformed and weak and timid I place

it at Thy feet. Oh! lift it up, my

dearest Lord; take it to Thyself and

form it. Make it strong to do the

good Thou askest of me. Make it

bold to resist the wrong, courageous to

ignore the criticism of those about me.

0 my own dear Lord, let this year

be full of progress, full of merit, full

of good. Let me be faithful to the

inspirations that come to me at every

moment. Let me listen to Thy sweet

Voice that bids me keep back the im-

patient word, the unkind look, the

selfish act.

1 beg of Thee to grant that I may

cause no pain to any one. Let my

days be one long chaplet of cheerful,

loving kindness. Let no word of mine,

no act, however small, wound the

heart of any one.

Teach me, my dearest Lord, to

know Thee, to understand Thee. Let

44



me, each day, sacrifice something of

my ways, so that Thy beautiful char-

acteristics may be gradually stamped

upon me. - May Thy charming ways

become my ways; Thy sweet and

gentle words my words; Thy pure and

noble thoughts, my thoughts; Thy

kind and tender acts, my acts, so that

all in me may bear, little by little, a

stronger likeness to the One who in

my heart will rest tomorrow morn,

my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

Let all in me bring joy and peace

and happiness to others. May no one

be less good for having come within

my influence. May no one be less

pure, less true, less kind, less noble

for having been a fellow-traveler in

our journey towards Eternal life.

Good-night, my dearest Jesus. Bless

me before I go. Lay Thy tender hand

upon me. Thy child, who longs to be

like unto her Lord. Come to my heart

tomorrow and fill it with Thy grace.

Take away all that looks like sin, that

I may never pain Thee more, my own

sweet Lord.

45



I love Thee now, but oh ! do Thou

increase my love so that all I do, or

think, or say, may bear the mark of

my Lord, my Friend, my All.

tiring ^fter

Commummu

Dearest Jesus, once again I find

myself alone with Thee,—heart to
heart with my God, my Saviour, and

my King.

What can I say to Thee that Thou

mayest know that I am happy in Thy

presence, happy in the love Thou bear-

est me, longing to make some return

for all Thy goodness to me who am

so cowardly and so ungenerous towards

Thee, my dearest Lord?

What can I do to show Thee that I

love Thee? What sacrifice can I make

to prove to Thee that I wish to re-

semble Thee? I hear Thy dear sweet

Voice reply:
—

“Be perfect.

“

This is much to ask of one so weak

as I, my Lord, and yet I know that if

Thou dost ask. Thou dost also give

46



Thy grace. Thy love, Thy never-

failing light that shines forever upon

the Model I have chosen to imitate

in all its beauty and strength.

Let my life be one long study of this

Face so pure and good,—one con-
tinuous effort to reproduce in my soul

the likeness of Him who loves me with

a tender, merciful love.

Grant that I may keep my eyes so

fixed upon Thee, my dearest Lord, that

Thy sweet expression may become

mine,—Thy beautiful sentiments may
creep into my soul,—Thy tenderness.
Thy charity may shine in all my

actions so, like Thee, I may “go around

doing good.“

This is my resolve,—to grow like
to Thee, my Lord. And when the

days seem hard and trials difficult to

bear, I shall remember, sweet Lord,

that I pledged my word to Thee, that

my life should be one constant, loving

effort to become like Thee in thought

and word and deed.

47



^Irsparattim for ^Solg (Eommmtintu

My dearest Lord, truly present be-
fore me in the Tabernacle, I adore Thee

and I offer to Thee my heart poor

and miserable as it is, that Thou

mayest guide it and watch over it.

How many times in the past I have

knelt here before Thee, speaking words

of love, of gratitude, of amendment.

Have I really loved Thee, my dear-

est Lord, or have my actions belied

my heart?

Have words merely trembled on my

lips speaking of love, and adoration

when my heart was filled with passions

of every kind?

Have I shown by word and deed

that my Confidant and Guide was a

Prince, a King,—nay, the Prince of
princes, the King of kings, my Lord

and Saviour Jesus Christ?

Or has my life been a striking con-

trast with that of my Model?

Could I take this heart of mine and

lay it near to the Lonely Watcher in

48



the Tabernacle and find in it a reflex

of His Sacred Heart?

Have I been generous, thoughtful of

others ?

Has my heart nourished bitter feel-

ings?

Have I given vent to cutting re-

marks, unkind insinuations, unjust cri-

ticisms, while each remark, each in-

sinuation and every criticism brought

me a degree lower in beauty of soul,

goodness of heart and resemblance to

Thee, my Lord?

Have I been faithful to the whisper-

ings of grace bidding me show no re-

sentment for an unkindness?

Have I been ungrateful and haughty

when corrected ?

Do I find myself after my Confes-

sions and Communions, better, nobler,

truer ?

How much I might do, did I fix my

eyes on Thee, my dearest Lord

!

Will the future be a reflex of the

past or an era in my life of renewed
strength and of greater sacrifice of self?

49



It is sad to think that I, who have

come in contact,—in such intimate
contact, with the Noblest, the Truest,

the Best, should find myself so below

the mark.

Would that I might be generous

enough to follow Thee, my dearest

Lord.

Is my life to be spent in vain wishes?

Shall I, on my death-bed, find

myself so distant from the goal of my

desires? Or shall I let Thee work now

in my heart, so that when Thou comest

to meet me. Thou mayest find me wait-

ing, my lamp trimmed, and on my

brow the victor’s crown, and in my

heart the peace and happiness which

this world cannot give, but which

Thou alone canst bestow on those who

follow Thee?

Oh ! my own sweet Lord, bless Thy

child. Bless me that I may not

wander from Thee, that I may be

strong and valiant, firm in my resolve

to do good.

Good night, my Lord, I thank Thee

for Thy goodness to me, who, though

50



so anxious to please Thee, am yet so

weak.

May I love Thee ever more and more.

Through all life’s troubles may my

heart be ever faithful to Thine.

©hanksgifrittg £dizx

(Hammummu

Yes, my dear and loving Saviour, I

adore Thee here within my breast.

In this poor weak heart of mine, I

hold the Friend, the best and dearest.

Here beneath my folded hands is He,

who by His touch and by His word

cured all diseases of soul and body.

I thank Thee, O my loving Lord,

for visiting me.

I would ask that Thou shouldst rest

with me forever, that Thou shouldst

make of my heart a dwelling place, a

shelter from the coldness and indiffer-

ence of the world.

Do Thou prepare it for Thy coming.

Take from it all that can mar the

happiness of Thy dwelling. Give me

51



the Peace of which the Angels sang

to those of good-will.

Give me light to see Thee that I may

study Thee in every detail of Thy

beautiful life,—patience with all about
me,—the sick, the irritable, the fault-
finding, the exacting, the rude and

vulgar.

Let me be sweet and gentle in the

events of life, — in disappointments,
thoughtlessness of others, insincerity

of those I trusted, unfaithfulness of

those on whom I relied.

Give me Thy fidelity to duty, no

matter what the cost.

Teach me, my dearest Lord, to put

myself aside, to think of the happiness

of others, to hide my little pains and

heartaches, so that I may be the only

one to suffer from them.

Make me strong, my own dear Lord,

that I may be a solace and a comfort

to those around me, that I may bring

help to those in need, sympathy to the

suffering heart, happiness to those in

sorrow, peace in trouble, and strength

and comfort to the weak.

52



How happy should I be, my dearest

Lord, could I bring souls to know Thee

more intimately, to serve Thee more

faithfully, and to love Thee more

ardently.

Give me this favor, my own dear

Lord, that I may grow to be more like

Thee, that my heart may resemble

Thine in its beautiful kindness; that

each day may bring me closer to Thee,

my dearest Friend, my King, my

Lord,—to Thee, whom I love with all
my heart and whom I wish to serve

cheerfully and lovingly and faithfully

forever.

53



Preparation far ^ialg (Eammumatu

My Jesus, I love Thee. I feel that
Thou art here present, looking at me,

—knowing just how much my soul

needs Thee, how weak it is, how often it

purposes to do well, how it longs to

resemble Thee in all,—in its sweetness
to every one, in its thoughtfulness of

others, its forgetfulness of self.

But, O my sweet Jesus, all this is

so very hard.

If Thou dost not take me by the

hand and make me do it, I fear I shall

be imperfect all my life. Still Thou

knowest, dearest Lord, how strong

is my desire to please Thee, how sin-

cerely I wish to be good, charitable,

constant, unremitting in my thought

of others, so as to give Thee pleasure,

my King, at every moment of my life.

While Thou wert on earth. Thou

wert always helping others,—helping
the sick, comforting those in sorrow,

speaking tenderly to those in pain,

noticing those who were unnoticed by

others.

54



Why do I not do this? Why do I

not give myself to all? Why do I so

dislike to be disturbed, when I am doing

something to my taste?

0 dearest Lord, dost Thou ever be-

come discouraged with me? Shall I

ever be of any use to others?

When Thou comest to me tomorrow,

do please change me. Show me what

I most need. Thou knowest that I

love Thee and that I am willing to do

anything for Thee. Do not fear to ask

what costs. I may hesitate, I may

draw back, I may even refuse, but in

the end I will do it, I will submit.

Accept then my poor, weak heart.

Transform it, cut it, burn it, shape it

as Thou wiliest. It is Thine and it

shall be Thine for all Eternity.

®tjanks^i£ntrg JVfter £HoIu

Communion*

My dearest Lord, I adore Thee
resting here within my poor, weak

heart. What can I say to Thee, my

Jesus? How can 1 ever tell Thee of the

(ft



longing that I have to love Thee and

to give my heart to Thee? What have

I done that Thou shouldst be so good

to me, so generous, so merciful?

My Jesus, let me linger near Thee.
Let me hear Thy gentle Voice. Let me

feel Thy Presence in my soul, for I

need Thy influence to make me true

to Thee. I need Thy grace to keep my

heart in touch with Thine,—to keep
it lifted up above the earthly charms

that might allure and tarnish it.

0 my divine Master, give me strength

to resist the evil, power to do the good

that Thou wouldst have me do. Teach

me to realize that my great aim in life

must be to become better, to grow

daily more unselfish, more kind, more

patient, more noble, more upright,

and more just.

Help me to see things in their true

light, to judge of things as Thou dost

judge them,—justly, kindly, merci-

fully.

Grant me the grace, my dearest

Lord, to seek Thee in my pains and

troubles; in doubts and perplexities

to turn my heart to Thee. Let me feel

56



the strength hidden in the Tabernacle,

the peace and quiet of the soul that

draws near to Thee. Draw me to Thee

to pour out my soul’s secrets at Thy

Feet, to seek comfort in my sorrows,

solace in my pains, sympathy in dis-

appointments, light in doubts, and

strength to do my duty, no matter

what be the obstacles.

O my sweetest Lord, take this heart

of mine and change it, transform it

into a heart worthy of Thee, filled with

the desire to resemble Thee, to live

a truly noble life, a supernatural life—

a

heart determined to bring sunshine

into other lives, to live for others, to

bear much for the sake of others.

Thou seest how much I need Thee,

my dearest Lord. Away from Thee

I can do nothing, for life is hard at

times and there is much that Thou

alone canst smooth and soften.

Bless me, my Lord, before I go and

give me strength to show Thee that I

love Thee, and let my heart, for at

least today, resemble Thine.

57



Preparation for ^olg (Kommunton.

Dearest Jesus, behold me once again

prostrate at Thy Feet,—loving Thee
as I did before, wishing to love Thee

more each day, longing to come in

contact with Thy Sacred Heart, beg-

ging that I may become so familiar

with Thy dear Voice that I may be

ever faithful to Thy loved Will.

Yes, my dearest Lord, I truly wish

to learn to love Thee, to imitate Thee

in Thy greatness, to pass over the

many little things that are better left

unnoticed. May I learn to imitate

Thee in Thy gentleness and sweetness,

that nothing in my conduct may jar

on others, nothing may hurt them,

nothing may cause them pain.

May my life, like Thine, dear Lord,

tend to sweeten the lives of others,

to spread sunshine everywhere, that

no word nor action of mine may cast

a shadow on their pathway.

Did I but think of this more often,

how many sharp words would be si-

lenced, how much more kindness in

58



my actions, how much sweeter the ex-

pression of my countenance, how much

kinder every thought.

0 dearest Jesus, tomorrow I shall

receive Thee into my heart. I shall

hold Thee for whom I am longing, for

whom I am willing to make any sacri-

fice that shall make me pleasing to

the King of my heart, my soul’s supreme

Delight.

Tell me, dear Lord, the secret of

Thy goodness. Help me to see my

many faults and the way to correct

them.

1 love Thee, yes, I love Thee, my

divine Lord, with all the ardor of my

soul. May my whole life be one long

act of love and gratitude to Thee, who

art of all friends the Best and Dearest,

my King, my God, my All.

©Ijaitksgt&tttg JVfter

(ftcmtmumoru

Prostrate at Thy sacred Feet, my
King, my Lord, I offer Thee my heart
with all the love of which it is capable,

—

with deepest gratitude for all the great

69



favors of the Retreat, with all the

good resolves Thou hast prompted

me to make.

I thank Thee, my own dear Lord,

for coming to me this morning. My
heart seems too full to speak,—too
full of the real true joy of the Saints.

Why this joy,—this happiness? Be-
cause I have come close to Thee, my

dearest Lord,—to Thee the Fountain
of all real, true joy,—the Source of all
good.

How sweet Thou must be, my dearest

Lord, if here on earth Thou fillest with

delight those who strive to please Thee.

What can I do, my Saviour, to prove

to Thee my love?

Could I take my heart and hide it

in the Tabernacle, away from all that

tempts it,—could I lay it at Thy sacred
Feet, apart from the clamor and din

of the world, how sweet ’twould be!

how easy to serve Thee!

But I must go out again into the

midst of much that lures me, where

even strong hearts may sometimes

waver, but where this frail, weak heart

of mine is sure to go astray, unless

60



Thou, my Lord, doth hold me. fast in

Thy strong Arms. i

How sad it seems, that while telling

Thee that I love Thee, I should fear

all the while to be unfaithful to Thee.

Surely this is not love, but flattery.

O Jesus, my Lord, listen while I tell

Thee what my heart yearns after.

One only desire have I,—to serve Thee
perfectly, to prove to Thee my love by

fidelity in just those things in which I

have been so weak,—in those things
against which Thy kind Voice has

warned me during my Retreat.

O my Jesus, when again the moment

comes and I feel weak and wavering,

do Thou speak to me,—speak loud,
dear Lord,—let me hear Thy warning
call. Oh! surely then I will come

back to Thee,— I will turn my face from
the things that charm, to look at Thee

my Lord, my Friend, my All-in-all,

Surely with Thy sweet Face again in

sight, 1 cannot waver. My heart is
cold and hard betimes, but not so cold

that Thy sweet Presence cannot warm

it, nor so hard as to be unconscious of

the pressure of Thy dear Hand upon it

61



I tarry long, my own dear Lord, but

I needs must say still one more word

to thee . . . Bless me Lord! Press

Thy lips upon my brow, that I may

ever think of Thee .... Put Thy Arms

about me, that I may stand firm against

all shocks . . . Let me look once more

upon Thy beautiful Face, that I may

recall it when the days are dark and

gloomy .... Then, oh! then, let me

hear Thy tender Voice as it whispers

to my heart,
—

“Canst Thou not bear

it just a few years more? Canst thou

not watch with Me a little longer?

Canst thou not resist for a life’s short

span, in order that I may give thee the

happiness without alloy, which I have

prepared for those who fight and con-

quer?”

O my Jesus, may I never refuse Thee

anything Thou askest. May I ever

give all and may my heart be ever

ready to receive Thee, so that on the

grand Reckoning Day when I shall

stand face to face with my Lord and

God and Judge, He may not be a

stranger to me, but my Friend for Life

Eternal.

62



preparation for £0olg Communion.

Let me kneel quite close to Thee, my

dearest Lord,—look up into Thy sacred
Face, and read therein the secret of

Thy loveliness.

Let me realize within my heart that

Thou art truly present here before me.

... I can hear Thee say,
—“My Child,

fear not! It is I."

Who art Thou, dear Lord? My
Friend? Ah! yes, dear Lord, I need

a word from Thy kind Heart,—a word
of love that I may know that, in spite

of all my faults. Thou lovest me with

a very tender love;—that though I
should become not one whit better.

Thou dost still love me.

Why art Thou here, my Lord? To

strengthen me? Ah! yes, I know. I

am so weak,—so changeable, so frail.
I mean so well, sweet Lord ... I mean

to be strong, and firm when lo! an-

other’s look, another’s vexing word,

some ill-success, some tiny cut is great

enough to shatter all my strength.

63



Why art Thou here, sweet Lord?

To enlighten me? Ah! well I know

that I am blind,— I do not see what
keeps me back from Thee,— I do not
see that I seek myself, not Thee in all

I do,—that I am cold and hard and
oftentimes I judge unkindly of those

about me, and am narrow in my

thoughts of them.

And Thou, my dear and loving Lord,

wert always kind,—wert ever pure and
true.

Ah! come to me tomorrow morn . . .

Touch my heart with Thy dear Hand

and make it true and good like Thine.

. . . Make me eager to grow better

every day. Give me an earnest long-

ing to be helpful to all with whom I

come in contact.

0 Jesus, dearest Lord! make Thy

child good, and sweet, and noble, that

she may bring others to Thy sacred

Feet.

Good night, my own dear Lord,

—

Lay Thy tender Hand upon my head

and bless me. Touch my heart with

Thy never-failing Grace, that every

passion may be silenced, every evil

64



inclination weakened . . . Come to me

tomorrow morn that I may be lost in

Thee,—that others may see Thee in me,
and nothing of myself remaining.

Ah! dearest Lord, help me each day

to grow like Thee, so that when my

heart is all transformed in Thine,

Thou wilt bid me lay aside my work

and wilt take me to Thy Home for

all Eternity.

^hanfesgt&ittg (After JHolg

QJommmtiatu

This is indeed, my beautiful Lord,

one of the happiest days of my life.

My heart is emptied of so much
which heretofore prevented me from

knowing how sweet it is to love Thee,

to hold Thee in my heart, to be, as it

were, the Tabernacle of the Living

God.

No words of mine can half express

the joy that wells up in my heart, nor

the love and gratitude with which it is

filled for Thee, my Lord, my God, my

All.

65



May I be ever faithful to the graces

of today. I ardently wish to become

truly holy.

I long to be of some lasting good to

those round about me. I realize today,

better than ever before, the need I

have of Thee, my Lord and Saviour,

Jesus Christ.

I know that unless I come in touch

with Thee, through Holy Communion,

kneel at Thy Feet and become filled

with Thy Spirit, I can do nothing for

Eternity.

Unless my words come from a heart

that “from time to time, goes out from

the haunts of men" and mounts to

Thy Throne, they will not be warm

with the ardor of Thy love and there-

fore will fail to burn into men’s lives

and hearts.

Unless I come from “the Audience

Chamber” of my King, I cannot give

His message to the world.

Unless I banish idle and frivolous

thoughts and purposes in order to

listen to the Voice of my King, I shall

66



never speak words of weight that are

to move the wills of others.

How easy it has been for me during

these days to kneel before Thee, here,

my dearest Lord, listening to Thy

Voice, receiving Thy sweet message.

Oh! Grant that I may carry Thee

out into the world, that I may bring

to the hearts of others. Thy beautiful

message of Love.

How sad to think there may be

sad hearts I can console, weak spirits

I can strengthen, timid souls I can

make brave, heavy burdens I can lift

from the hearts of others, yet, in this

labor of love for the Master, 1 may be

found wanting, because 1 will not

conquer myself, will not move aside

from the crowd to pass some mo-

ments with Thee, my Lord, in the

Tabernacle of Thy Love.

Give me strength to be faithful to

Thy Will . . . Lay Thy Hand in blessing

on Thy child who leaves Thee now for

a little space to carry to the world

the joy and happiness she feels today.

07



preparation for polo (Eommunton.

(CCIjrtsfntaa-)

Sweet Jesus, come to me tomorrow

morn,—come to me to prepare my
heart for Thy Birth on Christmas Day.

To Whom better can I go for pre-
paration than to Thee? Who better

knows, than Thou, what is necessary

for Thy coming?

I can see Thee, dearest Lord, begging

shelter from heart to heart, that Thou

mayest be born therein. Over the

still, silent air come the oft-repeated

words “There is no room for Thee.”

No room for Thee, sweet Lord! Why,

my loving Saviour? Because blinded

by pride, they cannot recognize the

Guest who begs admittance? Ah! yes,

I understand, my Lord.

Again to other hearts Thou goest.

I hear Thee lift the latch and beg a

corner for the night . . . But, no; they

are over-crowded and bid Thee take

refuge upon the hillside within some

desolate, forsaken stable/lately aband-

oned by the beasts.

68



Ah! dear Saviour, did they but

know what they have lost, did they but

recognize the gentle King who humbly

pleads for help, would they not empty

their hearts of the crowd of guests that

leave no room for Thee?

My neart yearns to offer Thee some
compensation but I have not anything

worth presenting to my King. How

could I venture to offer Thee my

poor and dingy hut? As thus I stand

urged on by love and yet withheld I

see Thee turning down the lane that

leads to my poor dwelling-place.

Sweet Saviour, dost Thou really

mean to enter in? 1 have nothing to

offer Thee, my divinest Guest. There

is but one poor room with some old,

faded tapestry upon the walls, with

here and there, a remnant of old-time

splendor,—splendor that was wont to
charm Thee ere the breath of the World

tarnished it and the worm of Pleasure

had destroyed its brightness and its

glow.

But see! Thy Hand is upon the

latch! . . . Thou liftest it! Lo! it

resisteth not! . . .

69



Come, my own sweet Guest, and

enter in ... . Would that I had a place

more worthy of my Lord, a resting

place for my great King, some solace

for the weary, aching Heart of the

sorrowful Traveler who has no place

whereon to rest His care-worn Head.

Beloved King, sweet Saviour, what

can I do for Thee? Dear Lord, I

shall love Thee forever more.

Behold my little hut, sweet Lord,

—

my poor unfurnished heart seems all

aglow! . . . What transformation this!

. . . Its poverty and wretchedness are

lost to view and in their place is my

great and loving Guest, my Lord and

Saviour, Jesus Christ.

Ah! never leave me more, my Lord.

Surely Heaven must be very near.

Stand forever at my hut-door, sweet

Presence of my Saviour, to bid the

weary, wayward, footsore traveler en-

ter, that through my heart many may

be led to Thee, the dearest, truest,

kindest Friend in all the world..



'(Etjanksgifrittg JVfier

Commtmtart.

(OlfyrtBinraB.)

O Heart of Jesus, truly present in

my poor heart, I thank Thee for coming

to me this morning and while my heart

seems so cold, my Faith tells me that

Thou art resting here as Thou didst rest

near the Well of Samaria long years

ago, and I hear the same sweet whisper

to my soul,
—
“My Child, give me to

drink.

“

Give Thee to drink, my dearest

Lord! . . What shall I give to Thee 9 . .

*Tis nearly Christmas time and so

busy am I with the thought of friends

who expect from me that I scarce have

taken note of the Lonely Watcher who

rests by my heart-well and whispers

to my soul,—“My Child, give Me to
drink.

“

How can I look upon Thy pure,

sweet Face and not feel grieved that,

amidst all the hurry and bustle of this

gay, unheeding world, 1 am wont to

71



pass Thee by unrecognized and seem

to care so little what gift Thou dost

receive.

Ah! dearest Lord, how loud soever

be the din of voices, the clatter to and

fro of hurrying steps, the mad elation

of worldly pleasure or the deadening

weight of luxury and ease,—Thy sweet
and gentle Voice still whispers,

—
“My

Child, give Me thy heart.”

And so I pause a moment on the

roadside of my busy life, to turn my

eyes to gaze upon the Face of Him, who

asks me for my heart and in a moment

of fervor and joy, I say,
—

“Yes, Lord,

take it, it is Thine.” When lo! it

resisteth me! What chains are these

that prevent my heart from lying pros-

trate at Thy Feet? I, who find it so

easy to do my will at all times,—to
gratify myself in every way,—who have
but to wish for something and, be it

ever so difficult to obtain, devise some

plan by which it comes within my grasp.

How this heart to which I have given

everything it craved, refuses me in this

one request I make,—it will not obey
and give itself to Thee, my Lord!

72



Oh! I beg Thee, my God, to break

away the ties that bind it. Tear up

the roots that cling to earthly things.

Lift my heart above the mire and scum

of this world’s fascinations and give it

a yearning after Thee, sweet Lord,—so
strong a yearning that nothing of this

world may lure it from Thee.

Bless me, dearest Lord . . . Take my

heart ragged and torn and bleeding

and place it close to Thee, that it may

be transformed,—that its every beat
may be an act of adoration and of love.

73



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