I don’t have the courage to make a strict rule for myself to search in books for beautiful prayers. That gives me a headache, there are so many of them! . . . And then some are more beautiful than others. . . . I wouldn’t know how to recite them all. Not knowing which one to choose, I do as children do who don’t know how to read: I very simply tell God what I want to tell Him, without making beautiful phrases, and He always understands me. . . . For me, prayer is an upward rising of the heart, it’s a simple glance toward heaven, it’s a cry of gratitude and love in the midst of trials as much as in the midst of joys. In short, it’s something big, something great, something supernatural, that expands my heart and unites me to Jesus.

unchanging truth, that unless we become as little children in the doing of our Heavenly Father's Will, we cannot enter into our Eternal Home.

If I did not simply live from one moment to another, it would be impossible for me to be patient, but I only look at the present, I forget the past, and I take good care not to forestall the future.