My Mother, I know you are my mother. Remember that I gave myself to you in your Immaculate Heart, keep me pure, a virgin. May it be my refuge, my hope, my consolation, my solitude. I place myself in your maternal arms, so you may put me in the arms of Jesus. I abandon myself to Him. May His holy will be done.
Thank you, my Mother, for having freed me from all dangers and for having made me spend my vacation well. Thanks, my Mother. My Mother, I would like tell you many things. But my language is so poor that it trembles in just telling you that I love you. My Mother, at your virginal feet I would love to sing praises, but my voice is so weak that I can only formulate a prayer. I have pain because, despite having asked and at the same time having mortified myself, I have not obtained my request that my father, Miguel and Luis make a retreat. But my God's will be done. ("God the Joy of My Life; Bl Teresa of the Andes" by Michael Griffin OCD)
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