The sky was over-cast, gray and menacing the day we visited Lisieux.

We had driven for about an hour from the cottage we were renting near Bayeux, in the Normandy region of France. There were 12 of us all together: mother, father, eight children and two grandparents. I was the group's leader, having organized this mini-pilgrimage during our family's holiday to France. By now my children were used to this idea of going on pilgrimage while on vacation, but I wondered if their non-Catholic grandparents would find it a waste of their time.

I had a personal desire to visit the home of St. Thérèse, who has been a favorite of mine ever since I read her autobiography, The Story of a Soul, shortly after my conversion in 1988. The Little Flower, as St. Thérèse is known, is loved by many the world over who seek to follow her “little way” of love. She was proclaimed a Doctor of the Church by Pope John Paul II in 1997, the centenary of her death. Pope St. Pius X called her “the greatest saint of modern times.” Her confidence in divine love, her abandonment to providence and her utter joy in life drew me to seek her out.

We began our pilgrimage at the lovely Carmelite convent where Thérèse lived and where her mortal remains are interred. In the chapel, we prayed near the wax model of Thérèse. It shows her as she appeared shortly after her death and now reposes above her tomb. The lovely white statue of Our Lady, who is credited with healing a deathly ill 10-year-old Thérèse with her smile, quietly looks down upon her resting place.

Next to the chapel is the Hall of Relics, where the Carmelites have a display of some of St. Thérèse's personal belongings, including her golden hair, cut when she entered the convent. They also have some examples of her paintings. One of these made a lasting impression on me. It is a chasuble she painted with an image of the Holy Face surrounded by a cascade of white flowers: five blooming lilies representing Thérèse and her four sisters who each professed religious vows, four unopened lily blossoms representing her brothers and sisters who did not survive childhood, and two white roses representing her mother and father, who are now declared Venerable by the Church.

A short walk up a hill and we arrived at Les Buissonnets. This was the Martin family home after St. Thérèse's mother died when she was only 4 years old. Inside the home we were treated to another audio presentation in English describing the home and Thérèse's young life there. We were able to see the rooms where Thérèse slept, played and ate her meals with her family. Her First Communion dress, along with her childhood toys and books, was also on display. Outside in the garden, I could almost imagine little Thérèse playing as my own children began a spirited game of hide-and-go-seek.

A Basilica Spared

The final leg of our pilgrimage that day took us up the avenue named for the saint herself, to the grand Basilica of St. Thérèse on the hill overlooking the quiet town of Lisieux. We were all amazed at the grandeur of this basilica after seeing the humble dwellings of her life. The non-Catholics in our party were perhaps even more amazed at this modern building, which displays crafts-manship worthy of a medieval cathedral.

The construction on this massive church was begun in 1929 under Pope Pius XI, who canonized Thérèse and considered her the star of his pontificate. He wished the basilica to be, “very big, very beautiful, and completed as quickly as possible!” His wishes were granted when the basilica was built and paid for in less than 10 years, thanks to the generosity of Christians around the world. In 1937 the future Pope Pius XII, Cardinal Pacelli, gave the basilica his solemn blessing. In June 1944, during the invasion of Normandy, the basilica suffered slight damage due to bombings. Thankfully, Lisieux was spared the brunt of the battle. After the war, stained-glass windows and mosaics were added. The basilica was consecrated in 1954 by Mgr. Martin, Archbishop of Rouen.

Inside is a plaque commemorating Pope John Paul II's visit in 1980 and another commemorating St. Thérèse being proclaimed a Doctor of the Church in 1997. The mosaics and stained-glass windows were made by Pierre Gaudin and were inspired by St. Thérèse's spiritual childhood and the beatitudes. They sing in harmony, telling us the story of this saint for whom they were created.

In the south transept, we marveled at the huge reliquary that holds two bones from the saint's right arm. A large black-and-white photograph of St. Thérèse in her habit of Carmel and another of Thérèse as a child flank the reliquary and seemed to smile mischievously at us when we stopped to pray. Around her shrine, hundreds of candles, offering up their myriad of prayers, flickered in the cool darkness of the basilica.

St. Thérèse, the Little Flower, bloomed in God's garden for a mere 24 years, most of which were spent in the small town of Lisieux. The convent she entered at age 15 is a short walk from the house where she grew up. She never went on a mission and never performed great works, yet she is a co-patron of the missions with St. Francis Xavier. She is an inspiration to millions of people trying to become holy leading ordinary lives. She shows us we don't need to be great on this earth to do great things for God's kingdom.

‘A Teacher for Our Time’

St. Thérèse's missionary work continues, as her relics have been on a worldwide tour since 1994. This year her relics will stop in Australia, French Polynesia and the Middle East. She will visit Scotland and Spain in 2003, then on to Africa in 2004.

Pope John Paul II, in proclaiming her a Doctor of the Church, said: “Thérèse is a teacher for our time, which thirsts for living and essential words, for heroic and credible acts of witness. For this reason she is also loved and accepted by brothers and sisters of other Christian communities and even by non-Christians.” St. Thérèse is not only the youngest and most recent saint to be made a Doctor of the Church, but she is also the third woman in a very unique, mostly male fraternity. She is truly a saint for our day and age.

As the day drew to a close, I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful the heavens had not rained down upon us that day. Perhaps St. Thérèse had worked her wonders and heaven had reigned down instead. We gathered up our rag-tag bunch of little pilgrims and headed back to our cottage. I don't know what sort of impression St. Thérèse made on my family that day, but I am confident the Little Flower planted her seeds and God will now tend the garden.

Debbie Nowak writes from North Yorkshire, England.