Gabrielle Lefebvre

IN the vast plains of northern France, and marking its boundary, stand out the powerful built-up areas of Lille, Roubaix and Tourcoing. To the traveller who lingers there, they offer many contrasts—poor cottages and wealthy residences.

Lille has the look of a capital, whilst Roubaix and Tourcoing keep the features of modest towns and are joined one to the other in such a way that at first glance it is difficult to distinguish between them. Roubaix, however, is marked by its open character. Tourcoing is more closed in on itself. In this region were two families engaged in industry, both hardworking and Christian in outlook, with a realistic optimism and lively faith as their outstanding characteristics—one was that of the Lorthiois of Tourcoing, and the other, the family of Watine of Roubaix.

On 27 June 1874, Gabrielle Lorthiois of Tourcoing married Louis Watine of Roubaix. Gabrielle was of a robust and dynamic temperament, and lived her life to the full. She was President of the Third Order of St. Francis and supported numerous convents of Roubaix. With her energetic step she travelled through every street of the town to get help and work for her communities. Her husband, Louis, was the best of husbands, a solid support, a sure guide. His all-embracing goodness tempered the austerity of his wife. A wise, just, and good man he devoted himself fully to the duties of his position.

After his death in 1919, his wife lived a life of austerity. She did without heating in winter; her table, always plain, became frugal. Getting up at 4:30 a.m. to go to Mass and Holy Communion, she only went to bed at 11:00 p.m., sometimes at midnight. It was only at the age of 80, after a heart attack, that she agreed to get up at 5:30 a.m.

These, then, were the parents of a chosen soul.

Infancy and Youth

This chosen soul was Gabrielle Watine, born at Roubaix on the 4th of July 1880; three children had preceded her, three were born after her. Providence so placed her as the middle one of her brothers and sisters to be their bond and joy.

At that time the Daughters of La Sagesse ran a prosperous boarding school not far from the church of Saint Martin at Roubaix. Gabrielle attended this school as a day pupil. Her mistress, Mother Mary Louise, was able to say of her "she took to piety in an unmistakable manner, joining in the Acts of Prayer and bringing along her companions when opportunity offered—she was a dutiful child."

Of a lively intelligence, with definite aptitudes for music, design and poetry, she was among the first in the class. A balanced character, a heart open to affection, she was by nature optimistic.

The education she received in the family encouraged her efforts. Each morning her mother, Madame Watine, before going to the 7:00 a.m. Mass with her husband, went to each of the children's bedrooms to say the Morning Offering. Grace before and after meals was said, and night prayers recited together. In this way God presided over every action of the parents whose constant and fundamental concern was to give the children a Christian way of life. Letters from two aunts who were religious sisters, and who dedicated their lives to the suffering and the care of the aged, were read to the children, so that they were made aware of the spirit of self-denial and sacrifice. Gabrielle, with her good temper and fresh gaiety, was the one who encouraged her brothers and sisters in the various extra duties which had to be done. She also added acts of charity. To alleviate those suffering from tuberculosis, it had become fashionable to make nettle wine. Gabrielle went with her mother to collect the nettles, help to pound them with hammer blows and to press them in their bare hands. She also visited the families of workers of cloth mills, and she knew, early in life, the wretched hovels and pale faces of anemic children. At Christmas time she would crochet woolen goods which she placed around the crib, to be given later to poor children. On the spiritual side, she got together groups of boys and girls from school to learn their catechism .

During the hours of family relaxation, Gabrielle accompanied her brother Leon at the piano as he sang—he was her constant companion. She also played duets with her mother.

When she was 16 years of age, Gabrielle went as a boarder to the Dames Bernardines d'Esquermes at Lille. It was not without emotion that she moved away from her dear Saint Martin at Roubaix, expressing her feelings in a poem:

As Esquermes her companions praised her without reticence; in her report she was described as being "of even temper with smiling energy, agreeable to everyone." Gabrielle stayed at this boarding school for three years and made solid friendships there. Later on, with these friends, she did serious work, like making and repairing ornaments for poor churches. She remembered these reunions with great feeling for she was a sweet person, forgetful of herself in order to encourage others to assert themselves. But in her presence her friends would never speak ill of someone nor spread malicious gossip, for she withdrew herself, and her deliberate reserve made them change the conversation. Her personality asserted itself again in the discussion of ideas which she led with vivacity, never giving in through weakness.

Gabrielle loved nature and outings in the open air. She liked to stride out, and as a young girl, walked with her mother, fasting and saying the Rosary, along the eight kilometers which separated Roubaix from Marliere, where she went to make a novena of Communions during the month of May. She loved to point out the stars to her young sister, and waves dashing against the rocks enthralled her.

Early Married Life

As Gabrielle neared the age of eighteen she began to consider in which direction her vocation lay. She had spiritual aspirations which began to disturb her father, who, in spite of a lively faith, was opposed to her entering a convent.

Her studies finished when she reached the age of twenty, and it was time to decide her future. The Sisters at her school had thought for a long time that she was called to the religious life and she herself reflected on it. Prayers were said, conferences were held, the will of God was sought. She visited Monseigneur Fichaux who was her spiritual director, and his response was clear. She ought to stay in the world and have a family. In this way only could she do the will of God. In submitting to his direction which she considered to be binding, Gabrielle kept, for a time at least, a certain nostalgia for the religious life. From then on, her prayers were to ask God for a husband who would be a devout Catholic.

A friend of the family, M. L'Abbe Depont, a priest at Notre Dame at Tourcoing, introduced one of his parishioners, Rene Lefebvre, to the Watine family. Born on 23 February 1879, the young man was then aged 23. He was a former student of the Jesuit College, Boulogne sur Mer, with a knowledge of German technology which he had studied there. Rene belonged to an honorable and Christian family.

On his father's side he was a Tourquennois, an old, established family; his mother came from Lille. His mother and grandmother were women of great spiritual worth. They were both of the Third Order of Saint Francis, and gave themselves to the apostolate; one at Lille in the District of Saints Peter and Paul, the other at Tourcoing, in the parish of Notre Dame de Lourdes, and everyone called her "the good Madame Lefebvre."

Rene must have inherited this deep faith, this solid piety; the only son, of delicate and sensitive temperament, somewhat shy and retiring, he preferred to be alone rather than lead a worldly life. From that, no doubt, sprang his aspirations towards a priestly life, in particular, towards a Benedictine life. In his family they recalled and often spoke of their forebears with rich carriages, of receptions characterized by refined behavior and excellent food, where the mistress of the house showed her qualities as queen of the home. The young man appreciated all that recalled these characters of grandeur, and the nobility of past centuries in the Church and in the State, as well as in the family. This made him hesitant about his vocation. Rene's mother asked the help of the Abbe Depont in arranging a marriage for her son.

In this way Gabrielle and Rene met and became engaged. The engagement, however, did not bring the hoped-for peace to Gabrielle, who felt her heart divided and feared lest she was robbing something from Our Lord. Theologians had not then, as now, popularized the spiritual doctrine of human love, which, when lawful, ought to be a means, rather than an obstacle to uniting oneself to God. The young woman saw in it a barrier to her desire for perfection. Nevertheless, on the 16th of April 1902, Gabrielle Watine married Rene Lefebvre. It is said that on this day Gabrielle cried. Lourdes, Monaco, Rome, Switzerland and the Black Forest were the principal stops on their honeymoon.

The young couple went to live at 17 Le Verrier Street in Tourcoing, and stayed there six years. The young wife looked after her duties at home whilst her husband went to work in his spinning mill. In the evening there was relaxation—Rene played the violin with real talent, and his wife accompanied him on the piano.

With the birth of their first child, Madame Lefebvre felt her responsibilities as a mother. To form the soul of the infant that God had given to her, to give it the right direction and to sanctify it, seemed to her beyond her strength; she turned for spiritual help to the Third Order of St. Francis.

This Order can be defined as the religious life brought within reach of Catholics in the world; a religious life without vows but filled with the spirit of the founder, and offering to generous souls the precious means of reaching perfection.

Monsieur Lefebvre

Her novitiate ended in 1903, and she became a full member on the 10th of February 1905, under the patronage of Saint John of the Cross. She was then twenty-five years old, wanting to fulfill all her duties well. She put herself under the direction of Father Hure, who had just arrived at Tourcoing, and was the Spiritual Director of the Third Order. He was a specialist in spiritual direction; he asked much of those under his direction, he demanded total obedience, and set before them an ideal of the spiritual life which he presented in such evocative and engaging language that they were eager to attain it. His imprint was left indelibly on some souls. The young mother was in good hands; she was able to receive the advice of Father Hure for more than twenty years. Under his direction the fraternity of Tourcoing made great strides, with spiritual guidance, an annual retreat, the keeping of feasts, and reading good books. The result was that a spiritual atmosphere was created in the society of Tourcoing, where the souls nourished by the Franciscan spirit became so many apostles.

Madame Lefebvre, by her spiritual life, gave Father Hure a great deal of help. She was appointed to take part in the assembly of the Sisters who led the fraternity, and became responsible for monthly meetings, the celebration of feasts, recruitment, in fact, all that contributed to the progress of the Third Order. Later, in 1912, she was nominated president, although only thirty-two years old, which was unusual since the fraternity kept a rule of seniority, and she was very young for this position. Moreover, she admitted to Father Hure that she had little aptitude for public speaking. However, the decision to elect her was maintained and thanks to her pleasing simplicity, she was soon accepted.

Meanwhile the family of Monsieur and Madame Lefebvre was growing; four more children were born. The parents felt a great responsibility and understood more fully the greatness of their mission: they turned more resolutely to God, developing their piety by praying together, Mass and Communion daily, and assistance at Vespers on Sundays.

There is no life of togetherness without trials, and this marriage, apparently so perfect, was no exception. It was for both husband and wife an opportunity to practice the greatest perfection. In spite of differences of temperament, these two souls, united in Christ, loved each other deeply. One of the children later described her parents as "two choice jewels, very distinct one from the other, made to perfect each other." If there was some misunderstanding in the intimacy of the home, a mutual love, a great Christian spirit, always safeguarded the union of the hearts. "What does it matter," Madame Lefebvre used to say, "if the passengers of a ship knock against the oars? Is it not a sign that they are moving? And what joy would they not have when, having reached the bank, they find themselves together in peace." She rejoiced to see in the conduct of her husband this character of piety which she so earnestly desired.

The education of the children was taken seriously by Madame Lefebvre. She wrote to her Aunt Bernardine: "I continue to ask for prayers for guidance in this very important matter of education, because it is by sanctifying myself that I will obtain above all, the graces to sanctify my children, and I swear to you, dear Aunt, that I prefer the readings which nourish me to those which explain how to give the food of piety to children. Education, above all, maternal education, is in fact much more of an outpouring of the soul than a syllabus for a teacher." Monsieur Lefebvre also had a high ideal for his children, and made them carry out works needed to attain it. "This severity," his wife used to say, "is providential to balance my softness." Soft, she was not, having too much sense of her responsibilities. Her moral perfection established a rule of conscience which she preferred above all else. Never would she have wanted to crush under the weight of her authority the spontaneity of a child whom she was seeking, on the contrary, to encourage by her optimism. She would correct a stubbornness, ask a service, reproach, but she never humiliated. The punishment was always exemplary. One of the children will always remember a vigorous slap he received after a lie uttered in front of his mother; respect for the truth was engraved on her soul.

Idleness being the mother of all vices, Madame Lefebvre did all she could, above all during the holidays to make the children play, joining in their recreation when necessary, or finding them interesting things to do. She described in a letter written from Knocke, a Belgian seaside resort where the family spent their holidays, "I have chosen this little holiday because of the ease with which my children can be constantly in the fresh air; a little dune separates us from the breakwater, and I can see the sea and watch the games."

During school terms little mental exercises were organized to encourage the children in their interest for study; they also recited their lessons while their mother listened.

This education was stimulated by kindness and a Christian atmosphere. Daily Mass and Communion were regarded as a duty, so important that Madame Lefebvre herself went to waken the children by tracing the Sign of the Cross on their foreheads. Every evening they prayed together and received her blessing.

At Christmas time, in front of the crib, set up in the children's room, each one had a lamb and a candle which they moved backward or forward according to how good their behavior had been during the day; this little ceremony finished with the saying of a prayer and a hymn. Each day she recited this prayer "That my children may be victorious in all temptations."

Contemplating her untiring devotion in her role as educator, it is easy to guess the depth of her maternal love. However, her exterior reserve in the show of affection, as well as her unseemly insensibility at the time of separations, could make any onlooker think otherwise. Her children were not misled by it, in each of her action, in her matchless smiles, her kiss on the forehead each evening, they felt the sweetness of an affection beyond words. Madame Lefebvre devoted herself to all of them, she showed no preferences; each child could think himself the best loved.

The years 1908 and thereafter seem to be particularly significant in the spiritual life of Madame Lefebvre. In August, 1908, she heard a talk on the life of St. Teresa of Avila which greatly impressed her. From then on, she meditated on her life and writings. Subsequently, she broached the subject of the interior life with Father Hure. Because of her natural diffidence, it was difficult for her at first to reveal her innermost thoughts, but with the encouragement of the priest, she began to accept his direction. At the beginning of 1909, she had only one petition for the year—the love of God. After a long preparation, dominated by a desire for sincerity and humility, she made a general confession. She was inundated with consolations and spent the following night in prayer. She described herself as "transplanted, taken from her surroundings, alone under the eye of the Master," and compared herself to a little bird carried from its nest into a palace, "by the whim of the Master Who amused Himself because of its fragility and awkwardness." She wrote during a retreat: 'There was a time, my Jesus, when I only knew You as a Good Being to Whom one rendered homage willingly, to Whom one addressed oneself in all difficulties, and Whose main purpose was to protect us. But did I know that God, in a whisper of love, His heart ceaselessly concerned with mine, works unceasingly to evoke a greater response to this love in me? I find myself like a closed dwelling place, without worrying about what goes on inside. I promise to live better, to give something of myself." 

Madame and Monsieur Lefebvre with their first five children, Marcel, Bernadette, Jeanne, Christiane, René

During Lent of the same year, 1908, she penetrated deeply into the Mystery of the Cross, and the desire to unite herself to the Crucified One by mortification and the gift of herself. In May she offered herself to Our Lady, and in 1911, she renewed her total consecration to Mary on March 24th, the vigil of the Annunciation, which coincided with the feast of the Seven Sorrows of the Blessed Virgin Mary, following the formula of total consecration of St. Louis Marie de Mont-fort. This act responded to the sentiments of generosity which animated her; she understood that her Mother in heaven would help her to love Jesus better. An undertaking to do all by Mary, with Mary, in Mary, for Mary, she would do all more perfectly by Jesus, with Jesus, in Jesus, for Jesus—the perfect means of uniting oneself to Jesus. It was in this way that Madame Lefebvre understood it: "I put myself, O my Jesus, I, my husband, and my children, under the protection of Your Holy Mother, with happiness, I renew my consecration, my desire and my will to belong to her always ... that she may give me all her guidance, that she may make me understand clearly what Jesus requires of me; that I may be for her the most faithful, most loving of spouses ... I lay at Your feet, O Jesus, and those of Your Holy Mother, the hearts of all my little children, that they may develop as the trees grow—in the exact direction You wish."

In December 1909, she finalized the vow of obedience to her spiritual director, Father Hure, in all that concerned the sanctification of her soul by a definite formula addressed in a letter to him. "In the Name of the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost. In the presence of God, my Creator, of Jesus, my adorable Spouse, of the Holy Ghost, my Light and my Strength, under the protection of Mary, Queen of my heart, of my Guardian Angel and of Saint Gabriel, with the blessing of the priest whom God has given me for my soul, quite freely and with good heart, I make a vow cf obedience, complete and entire to my director in all that concerns my sanctification, until it pleases him to relieve me of it; blessing and thanking, in advance, Jesus and Mary for all the good and merit which this vow will bring about."

More and more she delivered herself to Jesus "not only to do His will but to anticipate His desires." Father Hure encouraged her in a letter, "... you should respond by sacrifices and generosities without number. But already what He has done for you is admirable; and how much we feel the pressing need to bless Him and to be blessed."

By this vow of obedience she offered her liberty to God.

Her devotion to the Passion, her union with the sufferings of her Redeemer, her attraction to the Wounds of the Crucified, were a preparation for an extraordinary favor—the Stigmata. There are, however, no witnesses to describe the peculiarities of this supernatural phenomena in the case of Madame Lefebvre, but the letters of Father Hure seem to suggest its existence. "Does not this 'inconvenient' Spouse multiply by design the occasions for sacrifice? ... with the insistence which one uses to ask a favor. You sigh after the Fifth Wound, destined to perfect in you the Sacred Effigy. Like St. Francis you want to be able to say 'I carry in my flesh the wounds of Jesus Christ!' Let us thank God together for that which you have done, and for that which has been given to me to do; it is a great grace for us both."

Certain phrases remain obscure and the meanings can only be conjectured. If Madame Lefebvre received the spiritual favor of the Stigmata, she carefully hid it. Some of her children only suspected it.

It was in the month of July 1909 that she may have felt the first impression of the Stigmata. At the remembrance of a meditation in the church at Bruges, she wrote, "Knoeke—picture of Bruges—p. of the n.". This can be completed to "point of the nail." She saw herself "as a sponge drinking in the Divine Blood."

"When Jesus possesses a soul," she meditated in 1912, "He marks it too with the Cross; one cannot approach Him without also approaching the Cross ... There are certainly superior degrees to which my soul is too feeble still to aspire, which it might never be possible for it to aspire to, so small and incapable does it feel. Divine flower of suffering which only develops on earth, the well beloved flower of the Divine Gardener, have You not seduced me before I knew You. Is it not Your sight that has charmed me before showing me that which represents You? If it pleases You that I suffer, O my Jesus, I accept it if it is going to make me love You more ... Is it not to abandon oneself while alive into the hands of the Living God?" In reply to this her Spiritual Director said: "Have confidence in Him ... Your Spouse knows quite well what to do ... Has He not led you until now, formed you, espoused you with a really exquisite goodness?"

Meanwhile, family life carried on as with other families. Family reunions were frequent and of great importance. One Sunday each month three venerated relatives were invited—Madame Lefebvre's mother, her Aunt Jeanne, and her eldest sister, Marguerite Marie, a widow left alone after having given three children to God. Madame Lefebvre did not spare herself to anyone; when this sister became incapacitated with Parkinson's disease, she helped her with great affection. She guided an aunt who became blind, and her uncle by marriage, who was also blind and who stayed with them for his holidays. Of these two blind people she remarked, "I can make comparisons, which, transposed to the spiritual, are very interesting. Aunt lets herself be led, abandons herself completely to whoever leads her. Uncle is more an obstacle to the extent that he almost makes me stumble myself or makes me drag him to make him come along." She concluded that there was an advantage in imitating her aunt, that is, in abandoning oneself into the hands of God.

They also had friends outside the family circle. They visited old people whatever other duties they had, as well as friends who were ill or in pain; with tact and consideration Madame Lefebvre found the right words of encouragement. Her apostolate of the sick spread further afield. In 1908, a dispensary was organized at Tourcoing. The Daughters of LaSagesse ran it, but asked for assistance from the people. Madame Lefebvre quickly responded to this appeal, followed the Red Cross course, became a nurse in 1910, and agreed to attend one morning and one afternoon each week.

What she did habitually at Tourcoing, she carried out temporarily at Lourdes, consecrating her annual pilgrimage to the care of the sick.

The most infirm, the most abandoned were her special choice. If she found a soul sunk in the depths by affliction, her friendship never faltered. Many people, victims of ingratitude or of neglect, in moral or financial difficulties, had reason to be grateful to her. By her modest bearing and friendly conversation, she radiated Jesus; everywhere her presence edified. A parishioner of Notre Dame, at Tourcoing, wrote: "I have frequently had the occasion to assist at Mass not far from Madame Lefebvre and I have been edified by her piety and meditation, above all after Communion. She was so absorbed in God that it was not a distraction to look at her, it was an appeal to sanctity which she spread unconsciously around her."

She was always the same; she had no wish to rise above her station in life although her husband could make influential contacts in the society he met. She was born in fashionable society where the ground, too impervious, did not allow her to pour out the supernatural feelings of her heart. She regarded most of the conversation in these circles as a waste of time.

Concluded in next month's issue