Treats of how good companionship played a part in the awakening once again of her good desires and how the Lord began to give her some light on the mistake she had been making.
BEGINNING, THEN, TO LIKE the good and holy conversation of this nun, I was glad to hear how well she spoke about God, for she was very discreet and saintly. There was no time it seems to me when I was not happy to hear about God. She began to tell me how she arrived at the decision to become a nun solely by reading what the Gospel says: many are the called and few the chosen,1 She told me about the reward the Lord grants those who give up all for Him. This good company began to help me get rid of the habits that the bad company had caused and to turn my mind to the desire for eternal things and for some freedom from the antagonism that I felt strongly within myself toward becoming a nun. And if I saw someone with the gift of tears when she prayed, or other virtues, I greatly envied her. For so hard was my heart that I could read the entire Passion without shedding a tear. This pained me.
2. After a year and a half in the convent school I was much better. I began to recite many vocal prayers and to seek that all commend me to God so that He might show me the state in which I was to serve Him. But still I had no desire to be a nun, and I asked God not to give me this vocation; although I also feared marriage.
By the end of this period of time in which I stayed there I was more favorable to the thought of being a nun, although not in that house, for there were things I was afterward to understand were most virtuous that seemed to me to be too extreme. And some of the youngest of the nuns contributed to my thinking this, for if all of them had been of one mind I would have greatly profited. Also, I had a good friend in another convent,2 and that was the reason why if I were to become a nun I would not have done so unless it were in the convent where she was. I looked more to pleasing my sensuality and vanity than to what was good for my soul. These good thoughts about being a nun sometimes came to me, and then would go away; and I could not be persuaded to be one.
3. During this time, although I did not neglect my spiritual improvement, the Lord was more determined to prepare me for the state that was better for me. He sent me a serious illness so that I had to return to my father’s house. When I got better, they brought me to visit my sister, who lived in a nearby hamlet,3 for she loved me so deeply that if they had followed her wish I would have lived permanently with her. And her husband also liked me very much—at least he was very solicitous for my comfort. But even this I owe to the Lord, for everywhere I was always loved; and yet, I always served Him very poorly.
4. There lived along the way one of my father’s brothers,4 a widower, very prudent and virtuous whom the Lord was also preparing for Himself. For in his old age he left all that he had and became a friar and died, with the result, I believe, that he enjoys God. He desired that I stay with him for a few days. He spent his time reading good books in the vernacular, and his talk was—most often—about God and the vanity of the world. He asked me to read these books to him; and, although I did not like them, I pretended to. For in this matter of pleasing others I went to extremes, even when it was a burden to me; so much so that what in others would be considered virtuous, in me was a great fault, for I very often acted without discretion.
Oh, God help me! What means His Majesty was employing to prepare me for the state in which He desired to make use of me! For without my desiring it, He forced me to overcome my repugnance. May He be blessed forever. Amen.
5. Although the days I remained there were few, because of the good company and the strength the words of God—both heard and read—gave my heart, I began to understand the truth I knew in childhood (the nothingness of all things, the vanity of the world, and how it would soon come to an end)5 and to fear that if I were to die I would go to hell. And although my will did not completely incline to being a nun, I saw that the religious life was the best and safest state, and so little by little I decided to force myself to accept it.
6. I was engaged in this battle within myself for three months, forcing myself with this reasoning: that the trials and hardships of being a nun could not be greater than those of purgatory and that I had really merited hell; that it would not be so great a thing while alive to live as though in purgatory; and that afterward I would go directly to heaven, for that was my desire.
And in this business of choosing a state, it seems to me I was moved more by servile fear than by love. The devil was suggesting that I would not be able to suffer the trials of religious life because I was too pampered. I resisted this with the thought of the trials Christ suffered and that it would be no great thing if I suffered some for Him; and that He would help me to bear them—I ought to have had this last thought, I don’t remember if I did. I suffered very many temptations those days.
7. At that time I had, together with a high fever, great fainting spells; for I always had poor health. My fondness for good books was my salvation. Reading the Letters of St. Jerome 6 so encouraged me that I decided to tell my father about my decision to take the habit, for I was so persistent in points of honor that I don’t think I would have turned back for anything once I told him. So great was his love for me that in no way was I able to obtain his permission or achieve anything through persons I asked to intercede for me. The most we could get from him was that after his death I could do whatever I wanted. I was afraid of myself and my frailty and of backing down; and since I could not wait so long, I tried to do it by another way, as I shall now tell.