ššš¢š§š šš”šš«šš¬š’š¬ š«šØšØš¦ š¢š§ šš²šØš§ š°š”šš«š š¬š”š šš¢šš šØš§ šš ššš©ššš¦ššš« šššš
ššš¢š§š šš”šš«šš¬š’š¬ š«šØšØš¦ š¢š§ šš²šØš§ š°š”šš«š š¬š”š šš¢šš šØš§ šš ššš©ššš¦ššš« šššš šš”šš šš¦ š š„š¢šÆš¢š§š ššØš«? šš”šš ššØ š š„šØšÆš šššš©š„š² šš§šØš®š š” ššØ š š¢šÆš š¦š² š°š”šØš„š š„š¢šš ššØš« ššÆšš§ š®š§ššØ ššššš”? Little by little, infirmities stemming from old age assail her: she becomes deaf, walks with difficulty, and suffers from rheumatism. Nevertheless, one prayer accompanies her always: “May I live for love of you, may I die for love of you, let my last heartbeat be an act of perfect love. “Has Therese Couderc left a message? She makes no claim to have done so. She does not even seek to repeat the great evangelical lessons of the seed which must die to bear fruit, the vine which must allow itself to be pruned in order to yield more. She does not have to repeat them; she has lived them with a rare intensity and a marvelous happiness!” – (Therese Couderc: Woman and Saint by Paule de Lassus, rc)









