The Ordinary Garden: Approaching Easter with St. Thérèse of Lisieux

St. Thérèse of Lisieux, known as the Little Flower, was a French Carmelite nun. She died in 1897 at the age of 24, leaving behind a wealth of writings and an influential spirituality of the everyday, which she called the Little Way. She was declared a Doctor of the Church in 1997, and her parents were canonized in 2015. Through her abiding love for Christ, St. Thérèse inspires us to adopt a childlike surrender of ourselves and our anxieties to Him in every moment.

During these final weeks of Lent, the promise of springtime is buoyant on the air. A trumpeting daffodil, a hazy glow on a redbud, a forgotten birdsong–they all remind us of the ultimate renewal found on Easter Sunday. The Little Flower invites us into a garden of thoughtful gratitude this spring, brimming with the simple, the steady, the quiet, and the ordinary.

The garden is not a place for performance, grandiosity, or immediate satisfaction. We wait months to see its fruits. It is cultivated not with bravado but with a spirit of patience, hope, and attention to its needs. The seed of a decadent fruit or a lush flower is humble, carrying in its core the potential of beauty and nourishment. We do not know what will come of each seed, but by giving it the proper conditions to thrive, we sow a trusting gratitude towards God. Likewise, each small moment of practicing goodness, kindness, and honesty–though it may not produce immediately visible results–helps to reflect God’s love onto the world. Even ordinary habits have the power to reorient our lives, and those of others, towards Him.

Miss no single opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word; always doing the smallest right and doing it all for love.

– St. Thérèse of Lisieux

If God is always with us, then no moment is insignificant, for we are constantly in His presence. Thérèse’s Little Way emphasizes that our spiritualities are not solely crafted by the large trials, accomplishments, and dramas that understandably draw us to God. The transitional movements in choreography, the background details of a scenic painting, and the bridge of a song all emphasize and bolster the grand lift, the snow-capped mountain, and the resounding chorus. We live the majority of our lives in these background details, particularly in prayer, and the Holy Spirit is as present there as at the grand junctions by which we often measure our lives. St. Thérèse reminds us to measure everything according to His standard rather than our own, encouraging us to not withhold gratitude or love for any situation or person that we may deem small or unworthy. 

I have no other means of proving my love for Jesus other than that of strewing flowers; that is, not allowing one little sacrifice to escape, not one look, one word—profiting by all the smallest things, and doing them through love.

– St. Thérèse of Lisieux

Our Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are fertile ground for transforming self-centered tendencies. Natural anxieties in controlling how others see us, how we see ourselves, and the outcomes of what we do and what is done unto us are blinders against the light of Christ. How might we meet the Paschal Mystery—or any Mystery—if we are intent on control? Without adopting the open trust of a well-loved child, we may miss opportunities to truly encounter the ineffable. The self-flagellation that can accompany our anxiety can also distance us from the pure joy of embracing this Mystery’s ultimate meaning. By releasing this anxiety, we offer Christ the chance to pull us up from the ground and into a renewed life. A quiet trust, built steadily day by day, can allow us to endure darkness with grace until we can meet that renewal—a tulip closes gently on itself during the night, reopening to the warmth of the sun. 

I hold full sweet your memory.
My childhood days, so glad, so free.
To keep my innocence, dear Lord, for Thee,\

Thy Love came to me night and day,

Always.

– “Memories,” St. Thérèse of Lisieux

At Christ’s feet, we plant ordinary gestures of gratitude as well as prayers for ourselves and those we love. The garden is tended in different ways over the course of the year. We wait, we water, we prune, we nourish, and we wait a bit longer. We move from plot to plot, tending to that which needs us most at any given moment. Some plants may grow deep roots without our witness, while some weeds seem to bounce back as soon as we rip them up. The process is rhythmic, cyclical, and slow-moving. The Little Flower shows us that our participation in these caring processes, when done with a graceful heart, both honors and reflects God’s love and care for us. As we cultivate our gardens, we can ask her to help us make small shifts in our understanding of the virtues we aspire to. Patience—won through tolerance of setbacks, fears, and suffering—not passivity. Hope—won through trust and embrace of God’s character and will—over wishful, detached longing for different circumstances. These small shifts, practiced over time, can curb anxiety and pave the Little Way toward our personal theosis. 

To paraphrase the women of the Abiding Together podcast, we have a tendency to want to avoid all the “Good Fridays” of our lives, but there is no Resurrection without Good Friday. There is no Good Friday without the Resurrection. As Easter draws close, tending our ordinary gardens can help us reflect more clearly on Christ’s sacrifice. Acknowledging His constant presence in that garden, we seek to abandon loneliness and desperation. May we instead focus on embodying the love that He freely gives us there—love amidst our ordinary flaws, habits, and stillnesses. After all, this love, devoid of fear, is the pinnacle we seek in our lives of journeying.

Novena Rose Prayer to St. Thérèse

O Little Thérèse of the Child Jesus, please pick for me a rose
from the heavenly gardens and send it to me as a message of love.

O Little Flower of Jesus, ask God to grant the favors
I now place with confidence in your hands . . .

(mention in silence here)

St. Thérèse, help me to always believe as you did in
God’s great love for me, so that I might imitate your “Little Way” each day.

Amen

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Writer and editor Franci Revel Eckensberger holds a Master of Fine Arts in Poetry from Cornell University. With years of experience as a copyeditor for academics, fellow writers, and various small businesses, she takes pride in maintaining clarity, consistency, and beauty in each client’s voice. 

Franci finds grace and insight in the Catholic Church’s rich relationship to language and invites that relationship to influence both her literary and editorial work. Saint Cecilia and Catherine of Siena continue to play a vital role in her journey to the faith as an artist. She lives in coastal Delaware with her husband.