The Saint Beside Me: Discovering St. Thérèse of Lisieux by Jeff Callaway
The Saint Beside Me: Discovering St. Thérèse of Lisieux
by Jeff Callaway
Texas Outlaw Poet
The Little Flower and a Tug on My Shirt
I want to share a testimony from my prayer life, because God has a way of reminding us, sometimes in the gentlest ways, that Heaven is not far away.
Over the last few months, I’ve been drawn more and more to St. Thérèse of Lisieux, the “Little Flower.” I can’t explain exactly why, but she has become a faithful companion in my prayers, especially when I pray the Rosary. I often ask a saint to join me in prayer before the Lord, lifting up my 33 prayer intentions one by one as I walk through the mysteries. And recently, almost every time, it has been Thérèse who prays with me.
The other night, I was praying the Luminous Mysteries, and as I meditated, my thoughts wandered. I found myself wondering: When I ask a saint to pray with me, are they really here with me? Or are they only interceding from Heaven? I tried to bring my mind back to the mystery—it was the Transfiguration—when suddenly, I felt something startling.
A very real tug on the back of my shirt.
In that moment, I knew. St. Thérèse was letting me know she was there, not only praying “from afar,” but truly present beside me in the room. She wanted me to understand that the saints are alive in Christ, that they can hear our thoughts, and that when we ask them to pray with us, they draw close in ways both hidden and tangible.
My heart was overwhelmed. And it made me want to share not just this moment, but the life of this saint who has been walking so closely with me.
The Life of St. Thérèse of Lisieux
St. Thérèse of Lisieux was born Marie Françoise-Thérèse Martin on January 2, 1873, in Alençon, France. She was the youngest of nine children, though four of her siblings died in infancy. Her parents, Louis and Zélie Martin—canonized together as saints—were people of profound faith who raised their children to love God deeply.
Tragedy marked her childhood early. Thérèse’s mother died of breast cancer when she was only four years old. Sensitive and tenderhearted, she clung to her father and older sisters. She was a bright, affectionate child, but also prone to tears and scruples.
At age ten, Thérèse fell gravely ill with a mysterious sickness. During this time, she had a vision of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who smiled upon her with radiant love. That smile healed her, body and soul. But an even deeper transformation came a few years later.
On Christmas Eve, 1886, Thérèse received what she called her “conversion.” In a moment of sudden grace, she overcame her childhood sensitivity and resolved to live not for herself but entirely for Jesus. She became steady, strong, and consumed with love for God.
From then on, she longed to give her whole life to Christ as a Carmelite nun. At just 15 years old, she boldly sought permission to enter the convent. When her bishop hesitated, she traveled with her father to Rome and begged Pope Leo XIII himself to allow her to enter. Within a year, her determination bore fruit, and she joined the Carmel of Lisieux in April 1888.
The Hidden Life and the Little Way
Life in the convent was quiet and ordinary: hours of prayer, silence, and humble tasks like sweeping floors, sewing clothes, and washing dishes. Yet Thérèse transformed these small acts into offerings of love.
It was here that she developed her “Little Way.” She realized she was too small to perform grand feats of holiness. Instead, she would seek holiness through small sacrifices, hidden acts of kindness, and total trust in God’s mercy.
“Holiness consists simply in doing God’s will, and being just what God wants us to be,” she wrote.
Her Little Way was childlike trust: offering up every smile, every word, every chore as an act of love. She compared herself to a small child who cannot climb the stairs to heaven, but who stretches out her arms so that Jesus may lift her up like an elevator.
This Little Way became her gift to the Church: the truth that sanctity is possible for everyone, not just for the strong or heroic.
Trials, Suffering, and Her Final Days
Though she lived a hidden life, Thérèse was not spared suffering. She endured spiritual darkness, wrestling with doubts and temptations against faith. She experienced what she called “a night of nothingness,” yet she clung to God’s mercy and continued to choose trust in the dark.
At 23, she was struck by tuberculosis, a slow and agonizing illness. Her final 18 months were filled with great physical pain, but she offered her suffering for souls. She died on September 30, 1897, at the age of 24, whispering her last words: “My God, I love You!”
She left behind her autobiography, The Story of a Soul, which revealed her Little Way with such simplicity and beauty that it has changed countless lives.
Thérèse promised before she died: “I will spend my Heaven doing good on Earth. After my death, I will let fall a shower of roses.” True to her word, people began reporting miracles and answered prayers almost immediately. Her “shower of roses” continues to this day.
Canonized in 1925, she was later declared a Doctor of the Church—one of only four women to bear that title.
Why She Matters to Me—And to Us
When St. Thérèse tugged at my shirt, it was more than a sign of her presence. It was a reminder of her entire message: that holiness is not far away, that Heaven is close, that the saints are not distant figures of history but companions who walk with us in Christ.
Her “Little Way” teaches us that sanctity doesn’t require extraordinary achievements. It requires only extraordinary love—love in the small things, in the hidden sacrifices, in trusting God like a child trusts a father.
That’s why I wanted to share both my personal experience and her story. Because someone else might need to hear what she showed me so clearly: you are not alone in prayer. Heaven is near. And even the smallest act done with love can become a pathway to God.
St. Thérèse of Lisieux, the Little Flower, pray for us.
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us run with endurance the race set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith.”
—Hebrews 12:1–2
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