Sufferings, adversities, humiliations, failures and suspicions that have come my way are splinters that keep alive the fire of my love for You, O Jesus.

O You Who are hidden, body, soul and divinity, Under the fragile form of bread, You are my life from Whom springs an abundance of graces; And, for me, You surpass the delights of Heaven.

To give worthy praise to the Lord's mercy, we unite ourselves with Your Immaculate Mother, for then our hymn will be more pleasing to You, because She is chosen from among men and angels. Through Her, as through a pure crystal, Your mercy was passed on to us. Through Her, man became pleasing to God; Through Her, streams of grace flowed down upon us.

O, my Jesus, I understand well that, just as illness is measured with a thermometer and a high fever tells us of the seriousness of the illness; so also, in the spiritual life, suffering is the thermometer which measures the love of God in a soul.

I saw the abyss of my misery; whatever there is of good in me is Yours, O Lord. But because I am so small and wretched, I have a right to count on Your boundless mercy.

Help me, O Lord, that my hands may be merciful and filled with good deeds, so that I may do only good to my neighbors.

My likeness to Jesus must be through suffering and humility.