Saint Thérèse of Lisieux Homepage
Therese 

This page is dedicated to Saint Thérèse of Lisieux.
Original name: Thérèse Martin

Birth: January 2, 1873
Place of Birth: Alençon, France
Family: eight siblings, four lived to maturity and all became nuns
Languages: French, Latin
Traveled: to Rome to meet the Pope
Miracles: many!

AKA: Saint Thérèse of the Infant Jesus and the Holy Face, Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus; the Little Flower; the Little Flower of Jesus
Died: September 30, 1897
Place of Death: Lisieux, France
Canonization: May 17, 1925
Proclaimed by Pope Pius XI: "the greatest saint of modern times"

Declared Doctor of the Church: October 19, 1997
Feast Day: October 1
Patron Saint of: Missionaries, France, Russia, Florists

I have been praying to Saint Th
érèse of Lisieux for intercession and so decided to dedicate a web page to her veneration and also to those who want to learn about her for prayer petitions, id est, asking her intercession to the Blessed Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ for miracles in our daily lives. I have in my posession a prayer card to her, a wall plaque, and a Most Holy Rosary with dirt from her tomb. This is a relic, a third class relic. Third class relics are an object which has touched the Saint's body or tomb. They are used to pray. If you want to obtain a relic from Saint Thérèse of Lisieux please check with a nun or priest. Sometimes they are available from the Vatican. They are not sold. My Saint Thérèse of Lisieux relic has healing properties and has helped me through many Rosaries. Thank you Saint Thérèse! All glory to Christ the King and his Saints!

My prayer to Saint Thérèse for the visitors to this website:
Saint Thérèse, Little Flower of Jesus who died young, hear my prayer, most beautiful virgin and friend of our Lord and Savior Jesus. Your family is devoted to the Holy Rosary, offer then the sufferings of your holy family to the Blessed Mother and her son Jesus, whose innocence never ceases to inspire us and whose love is self-evident. Saint Thérèse, you spent your religious life in holiness defending the innocence of Jesus. Hear our pleas to intercede on our behalf and answer our prayers!

Prayerful Poem by Saint T
hérèse to the Sacred Heart
Beside the tomb wept Magdalen at dawn, -
She sought to find the dead and buried Christ;
Nothing could fill the void now He was gone,
No one to soothe her burning grief sufficed.

Not even you, Archangels heaven-assigned!
To her could bring content that dreary day.
Your buried King, alone, she longed to find,
And bear His lifeless body far away.

Beside His tomb she there the last remained,
And there again was she before the sun;
There, too, to come to her the Saviour deigned, -
He would not be, by her, in love outdone.

Gently He showed her then His blessed Face,
And one word sprang from His deep Heart's recess:
Mary! His voice she knew, she knew its grace;
It came with perfect peace her heart to bless.

One day, my God! I, too, like Magdalen,
Desired to find Thee, to draw near to Thee;
So, over earth's immense, wide-stretching plain,
I sought its Master and its King to see.

Then cried I, though I saw the flowers bloom
In beauty 'neath green trees and azure skies:
O brilliant Naturel thou art one vast tomb,
Unless God's Face shall greet my longing eyes."

A heart I need, to soothe me and to bless, -
A strong support that can not pass away, -
To love me wholly, e'en my feebleness,
And never leave me through the night or day.

There is not one created thing below,
Can love me truly, and can never die.
God become man - none else' my needs can know;
He, He alone, can understand my cry.

Thou comprehendest all I need, dear Lord!
To win my heart, from heaven Thou didst come;
For me Thy blood didst shed, O King adored!
And on our altars makest Thy home.

So, if I may not here behold Thy Face,
Or catch the heaenly music of Thy Voice,
I still can live, each moment, by Thy grace,
And in Thy Sacred Heart I can rejoice.

O Heart of Jesus, wealth of tenderness!
My joy Thou art, in Thee I safely hide.
Thou, Who my earliest youth didst charm and bless,
Till my last evening, oh! with me abide,

All that I had, to Thee I wholly gave,
To Thee each deep desire of mine is known.
Whoso his life shall lose, that life shall save; -
Let mine be ever lost in Thine alone!

I know it well, no righteousness of mine
Hath any value in Thy searching eyes;
Its every breath my heart must draw from Thine,
To make of worth my life's long sacrifice.

Thou hast not found Thine angels without taint;
Thy Law amid the thunderbolts was given;
And yet, my Jesus! I nor fear nor faint.
For me, on Calvary, Thy Heart was riven.

To see Thee in Thy glory face to face, -
I know it well, - the soul must pass through fires.
Choose I on earth/i> my purgatorial place, -
The flaming love of Thy great Heart's desires!

So shall my exiled soul, to death's command,
Make answer with one cry of perfect love;
Then flying straight to heaven its Fatherland,
Shall reach with no delay that home above



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