but I am not accustomed to going back on anything I have professed. So I shall strive until I conquer in myself the spirit of rebellion, even if it costs me dearly — and may God come to my aid with help from Him.
January 21 –
Today I learned from one of the nuns that we must give up even the most trifling things and possessions we own, so that every tie between our old life and the new may be cut off. What I heard troubled me, for no reason but that I cherish two things: the first, my literary books; the second, the watch my mother gave me before her death as a precious keepsake from her. I think it more fitting to give the watch to my father to keep, for it is the dearest relic of the dearest of women.
February 2 –
The Superior called me this morning and asked me to give up composing poetry. I could not utter a word; I only closed my lids over two tears that swam in my eyes. Ah, if only this Mother could understand me, and understand my soul's need for a pen to express the stirrings within me. In the Mother's request — or rather, more exactly, in her command — there is cruelty, and what cruelty; but there is no use in argument, for the Superior's orders are above discussion.
Farewell, then, daughters of my thoughts; and farewell, my dear pen.
February 27 –
All through the past week I devoted myself to reading the Holy Book and to searching out the lofty meanings that lie behind the parables which the good Teacher of mankind gave us. A few passages proved too hard for me to understand, and it occurred to me to seek help from the priest who lives in a monastery near our convent; but at first I hesitated, out of shyness and awe. Then I took pity on myself, lest I remain in my error. I also refrained from putting
the question to one of the nuns, because they are usually given to interpreting the Gospel in a rigid way that does not accord with the spirit of simplicity and ease which God intended for us — they understand religion as a cutting-off from the simplest of desires.
At last I overcame my shyness and went to the priest, who received me with a cheerfulness and a kindliness that encouraged me to lay the matter before him. He listened to me calmly, then rose and brought his black-covered Holy Book and went on reading and explaining in a gracious manner, from which I came away with this wisdom: love God with all your heart, and do what you see to be right and true. Nor do I deny that I left him feeling a peace of soul I had missed in the days before.
March 15 –
I confess that I am tired; this struggle between flesh and spirit is violent and deadly. I need someone to take my hand and encourage me to endure. The confirmation ceremony has drawn near, and the few days to come must decide my fate... and the fate of this struggle...
Mercy, my Lord — I am frightened. This life
which I have imposed upon myself demands of me a great sacrifice, of which I would not be sparing, were it not for this human nature that binds it to the world of matter with the ties of passions and inclinations and instincts. I look into the faces of the nuns and see a mask of calm — yes, a mask beneath which lie hidden lines and traces drawn by the hand of long deprivation and
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