St. Joseph au Labeur,
overlooking the great kitchen of the Convent, had often been deaf to
the prayers of "my aunts," who prepared the food of the community.
The meagre tables of the refectory had not seldom been the despair
of the old depositaire, Mere St. Louis, who devoutly said her
longest graces over her scantiest meals.
"I thank St. Joseph for what he gives, and for what he withholds;
yea, for what he takes away!" observed Mere St. Louis to her special
friend and gossip, Mere St. Antoine, as they retired from the
chapel. "Our years of famine are nearly over. The day of the
consecration of Amelie de Repentigny will be to us the marriage at
Cana. Our water will be turned into wine. I shall no longer need
to save the crumbs, except for the poor at our gate."
The advent of Amelie de Repentigny was a circumstance of absorbing
interest to the nuns, who regarded it as a reward for their long
devotions and prayers for the restoration of their house to its old
prosperity. We usually count Providence upon our side when we have
consciously done aught to merit the good fortune that befalls us.
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