In January 2023, I received a call asking if I’d be interested in going on a pilgrimage to Lisieux, France — the hometown of St. Thérèse — the following summer.

Coincidentally, St. Thérèse had been showing up in my life beginning the previous year leading up to this opportunity. I wanted to learn more about her,  so I stocked my library with A Story of a Soul and The Context of Holiness. These were the gateways into the real “depth” of the Little Flower, bypassing the misconception that she lacked such deepness.

Through these sources, I learned that she struggled with intense psychological pain, depression and anxiety, making all that she accomplished through her “Little Way” vastly more admirable, especially as I experienced my own depressive episode. I began to feel drawn to and respect Thérèse because of her determination to fight for holiness despite the incredible psychological setback she experienced throughout her journey.  

About a year after signing up for the pilgrimage with my friend Katrina, I was notified that the trip was canceled. My heart sank with disappointment, especially since we had already made reservations, including booking flights separate from the tour group and housing. But this seemed to be a closed door, and I had to trust God, especially since so much prayer was put into this trip. When I called Katrina about the news, she responded in her encouraging way and said, “We can make it our own pilgrimage.” And so, we continued our planning, mapping out my first trip to Europe and making Lisieux one of the capstones of this adventure.

Destination Lisieux 

We needed to stop in Paris to reach Lisieux. I arrived with a romanticized vision of Paris. Ironically, that morning was rainy and cold, and we were surrounded by a massive crowd of humanity due to the 2024 Summer Olympics, completely changing my perspective of the City of Light. From Paris, we took a two-hour train ride to Lisieux, journeying into the quaint countryside of France.  

Once in the town, our first stop was the Basilica of St. Thérèse perched on top of a massive hill about a mile up, so we trudged along in the rain, carrying our massive suitcases up the hill — the inconveniences of stopping just for the day. I was laughing so hard at the reality of our current state that I almost lost my suitcases. Just about breathless, we reached the basilica, a beautiful tribute to the saint that opened in 1954, decades after her death.

The interior was ornate, with dark gold paint and murals of more modern icons depicting the life of Thérèse and other renowned saints, including her parents. (Her saintly parents were first buried on the basilica grounds but, since 2008, are enshrined in a joint reliquary that is exposed for veneration in the crypt of the basilica.) Neighboring the basilica is a beautiful shop filled with all things Thérèse.

Her Home and Convent

Our next stop was her childhood home, Les Buissonnets, which was across from the basilica about a mile out. The Martin home was like entering a time capsule. We entered through a circular front garden encased by a brick wall that was, of course, filled with roses. The tour began with the greeting of a French nun in the kitchen adjoined by the dining room containing the original furniture — and it was easy to envision Thérèse’s mother St. Zélie working on her lace surrounded by her daughters; at the centerpiece on the mantle stood a clock created by the Little Flower’s father, St. Louis.

Going up the small stairway to the second floor, we arrived at Thérèse’s bedroom overlooking the entryway garden: Painted a light blue, it was filled with elegant French furniture. What a blessing to see where the Little Flower bloomed, surrounded by love and faith in her domestic church. 

The final stop was the convent, Thérèse’s beloved Carmel. Headed back in the direction of the basilica, the convent stood humbly part and parcel with the town.  

The body of the Little Flower rests in the chapel of the Carmel, where it was transferred from the town cemetery in 1923, before she was beatified.

What moved me the most during our day trip was the time spent at the tomb of St. Thérèse, behind a metal gate beneath a beautifully waxed body of her sleeping decorated by a sculpted shower of roses lit up by stained-glass windows with the original statue of Our Lady of the Smile. Kneeling before the gate, I prayed for mental healing and in thanksgiving for the Little Flower’s presence in my life. 

We left Lisieux cold and wet but awestruck to have literally walked in the footsteps of this “little” saint. 

This post was updated on Oct. 2 to clarify the resting places of the earthly remains of the Little Flower and her parents.