St. Therese: Formative relationships

Spiritual Life, Fall 1998 by Hogan, Miriam

A YOUNG FRENCH WOMAN WHO DIED IN 1897 before she reached the age of twenty-five might easily be forgotten today. This is not what is happening, however, as Therese Martin continues to make good on her promise to spend her heaven doing good on earth. Her life and her spirit tap into something so universal in our human experience that people are able to relate to St. Therese because in her own life she was able to accept the common relationships she was given and to grow through these relationships in love for God and other persons. She was in every sense a true daughter of her biological parents, Louis and Zelie Martin, and of her spiritual parents in Carmel, Saints Teresa of Jesus and John of the Cross.

Looking at her life now, in a time of increased awareness of the dignity of women and of the many dysfunctional relationships that women have experienced with men, we can ask what has Therese to offer us today? How can we learn from a Saint who lived a seemingly sheltered protected life? In this article I shall attempt to show that Therese has a lot to teach us about relationships. Her relationship with her father, in particular, helps us to understand more about the role of father images in our own lives.

Therese, at a very early age, integrated material that some people struggle with all of their lives. When we look at what she had to encounter and overcome in her own life experience, we are drawn naturally to admire her. Most people, however, still have to get past the "sweet" or sentimental details of her cultural milieu. We are all given a particular time in history to grow and develop spiritually. The appeal in Therese's life story is that while she entered into the limitations of her culture and family situation, her spirit was not bound by these limitations. Rather, God's grace was able to build upon the ordinary material and details of her life in an extraordinary manner.

The Martin Family

The Martins had nine children but they lost two girls and two boys.' One girl, Helene, had reached the age of five before she died. Her death was especially difficult for Th6r*se's mother, Zelie. By the time Therese was born on January 2, 1873, Zelie was in poor health. Thus, when shortly after her birth Therese became sick, she was entrusted for a year to the care of an excellent nurse named Rose who helped her return to health. Later, when Zelie knew that she had breast cancer and probably only a short time to live, she encouraged Pauline, an older daughter, to take over most of the day to day tasks of mothering Therese.

"The little one," as her mother called Therese, had a nature that was gentle and affectionate. She won the hearts of all that surrounded her, not only with her beauty but also with her natural goodness. The heart that held first place in her own heart, however, was that of her father.

From the day of her birth, Louis Martin had a special fondness for his daughter Therese, the last of their five surviving children. She was not only the baby of the family, but she was the queen and he was the king. Early in her autobiography, there is a letter from Zelie to Pauline. In it There se's mother told the story that when Louis would arrive home, Therese would sit on one of his boots and he would ride her around the house. Let us pause a moment to consider this-an interesting image of an extremely popular saint-clinging to her father's boot and riding around the house! One thinks that perhaps this will never be depicted in a statue.

Yet, it was the mature woman that remembered and saved us the story, giving us an insight into a simple act of play that revealed the trust and joy of a child and the gentleness of a father. She was a pretty child and their affection for one another was warm, loving, and tender. A watchmaker by trade, Louis was usually of a serious nature, but he seemed to be drawn out of his more reclusive ways by this special child. It was clear to everyone that the baby was happy and brought him joy.

At a very young age, Therese realized that she had a talent for getting people to do what she wanted, and this included her father. This ability to get her own way could have made her spoiled and self-centered. This probably would have eventually happened if it had not been for the teaching of her family and her strong desire to please God. Indeed, she made the statement that from the age of three she "began to refuse nothing of what God asked of me." Such an attitude would have to enter into her relationship with others in the family.

Thus, before Zelie died, her main concern was not for Therese, the youngest, whom she instinctively knew would be able to grow to be a good and successful adult, but for her daughter Leonie. With all the instincts of a loving mother, Zelie's thoughts turned to the child that was difficult and troublesome. Unlike the other Martin girls, Leonie required special care and discipline, and Zelie worried how she would grow up without her.

The point here is that Therese did not only live with pious saintly companions but also with a very difficult personality. The family's piety was made manifest not only in their religious devotions but also in their constant kindness. They all took care of and supported Leonie all her life.