All my life it has pleased God to surround me with love. My first memories are of loving smiles and loving embraces; but if He made others love me so much, He made me love them too, for I was of an affectionate nature. You can hardly imagine how much I loved my Father and Mother. I showed my love in a thousand little ways. I loved to spend time with my mother, I followed her everywhere, and my favorite place was to be with her in the garden. My mother said one day to my older sister Pauline that I was a child who delighted the whole family. The moment I did anything mischievous, I confessed it right away, like the time I pushed my sister Celine, I told my mother what I had done and I promised her not to do it again.
Papa’s name fills me with many happy memories. Mamma laughingly one day said that he always did whatever I wanted, but he answered: “Well, why not? She is the Queen!” Then he lifted me on to his shoulder, and hugged me. Yet, I cannot say that he spoiled me. I remember one day, while I was on the swing, he called out as he passed: “Come and kiss me, little Queen.” Contrary to my usual custom, I would not stir, and answered openly: “You must come for it, Papa.” He refused quite rightly, and went away. Marie was there and scolded me, saying: “How naughty to answer Papa like that!” Her reproof took effect; I got off the swing at once, and the whole house resounded with my cries. I hurried upstairs, my one thought was to find Papa and make my peace with him. I need not tell you that I did this right away. I could not bear to think I had grieved my beloved parents, and so I acknowledged my faults instantly, as this little story, related by my Mother, will show: “One morning before going downstairs I wanted to kiss Therese; she seemed to be fast asleep, and I did not like to wake her, but Marie said: ‘Mamma, I am sure she is only pretending.’ So I bent down to kiss her forehead, and immediately she hid herself under the clothes, saying in the tone of a spoilt child: ‘I don’t want anyone to look at me.’ I was not pleased with her, and I told her so. A minute or two afterwards I heard her crying, and was surprised to see her by my side. She had got out of her bed by herself, and had come downstairs with bare feet, stumbling over her long nightdress. Her little face was wet with tears: “Mamma,” she said, throwing herself on my knee, “I am sorry for being naughty—forgive me!” Pardon was quickly granted; I took the little angel in my arms and pressed her to my heart, smothering her with kisses.~Extracted from the I am Therese Book.
Papa’s name fills me with many happy memories. Mamma laughingly one day said that he always did whatever I wanted, but he answered: “Well, why not? She is the Queen!” Then he lifted me on to his shoulder, and hugged me. Yet, I cannot say that he spoiled me. I remember one day, while I was on the swing, he called out as he passed: “Come and kiss me, little Queen.” Contrary to my usual custom, I would not stir, and answered openly: “You must come for it, Papa.” He refused quite rightly, and went away. Marie was there and scolded me, saying: “How naughty to answer Papa like that!” Her reproof took effect; I got off the swing at once, and the whole house resounded with my cries. I hurried upstairs, my one thought was to find Papa and make my peace with him. I need not tell you that I did this right away. I could not bear to think I had grieved my beloved parents, and so I acknowledged my faults instantly, as this little story, related by my Mother, will show: “One morning before going downstairs I wanted to kiss Therese; she seemed to be fast asleep, and I did not like to wake her, but Marie said: ‘Mamma, I am sure she is only pretending.’ So I bent down to kiss her forehead, and immediately she hid herself under the clothes, saying in the tone of a spoilt child: ‘I don’t want anyone to look at me.’ I was not pleased with her, and I told her so. A minute or two afterwards I heard her crying, and was surprised to see her by my side. She had got out of her bed by herself, and had come downstairs with bare feet, stumbling over her long nightdress. Her little face was wet with tears: “Mamma,” she said, throwing herself on my knee, “I am sorry for being naughty—forgive me!” Pardon was quickly granted; I took the little angel in my arms and pressed her to my heart, smothering her with kisses.~Extracted from the I am Therese Book.
