In a small, far east German (now Poland) town surrounded by woods and creek, Mother Mary Teresa of St. Joseph entered the world. She was the first of eight children of Herman and Pauline Taushcer and was baptized Anna Maria. Maria was baptized by her grandfather, a Lutheran minister, and grew up attending the church services where her father, also a Lutheran minister, was pastor. Maria spent the first six years of her life in the quiet village of Sandow. With her father, who Maria described as "more of an artist than a pastor," she would go into the woods and play while he painted. Even in her earliest years, Maria's mother, who acted as mother to the poor and sick wherever the family lived, allowed Maria to accompany her on her visits. This made a lasting impression on the little girl. "The misery and poverty of the poor aroused in me a deep compassion, so much so that after so many years, I still remember the names of those families, their homes, their poor beds, and their unsanitary conditions." Maria also described herself as a "quiet, deep child" with a "remarkable endurance at play" and a painful shyness that would follow her throughout her life.
In her autobiography, Mother relates what she considers the greatest grace of her childhood:
I was sleeping, but it was unforgettable for me. In the drawing room I saw our Divine Savior surrounded by many children. His countenance, expressing love and kindness, enkindled in me the fire of Divine Love. From that time on I was more serious, for the picture of our Savior was always before my eyes and filled me with the desire that all children should love Him as I did. That there could be grownups who did not love Him, I did not even surmise.
Another of Mother's fondest memories was sitting at the feet of her mother as she told Maria and her sisters bible stories and other stories of faith which nurtured her love and trust in God.
When Maria was seven, the family moved to the small city of Arnswalde, as her father had been promoted a superintendent in the Lutheran Church. Here Maria first realized her desire that all children should love Jesus as she did. Though just seven years old , Maria asked her mother if she could invite other children to come to their house and hear her stories of the Divine Savior on Sunday afternoons. That week Maria went everyday to the marketplace and the Church square telling every child she met, "Come to us next Sunday afternoon and my Mother will tell us of the Savior and the heathen children." The next Sunday brought only two children to the Tauscher household, but Maria remained undaunted and repeated her invitation. The following Sunday Maria entertained over thirty children while they waited for her mother and between sixty and one hundred children in the following weeks. This became the start of the "Children's Divine Service" at the Lutheran Church of that town.
Sometime when she was five or six, Maria had made the resolution never to sin. Thoughts concerning her inner life often absorbed Maria as she earnestly desired not to offend God. In her perplexity, she one day interrupted her father and mother to ask , "Is this a sin?"
Her father only answered her, "Go away with your sins and leave mother alone!"
From that time on, Maria relied only on God for guidance in her desires to please Him.
Despite her shyness, Maria loved to please others. Near their home lived a poor, feeble-minded child who attracted the pity of Maria. With the help of an older friend, Maria took the child her favorite doll as a gift.
Just before Maria turned ten, her father was again transferred, this time to Berlin. In Berlin, Maria became an avid ice skater and chess player as well as lead actress in the tableaus she put on with her friends. She also accompanied her mother on her visits to the poor and enjoyed attending the church services.
After the death of her mother in Maria's twentieth year, 1874, Maria assumed her mother's responsibilities of running the family household, the parsonage, and several church societies.
Since Maria's youth, secularism had begun its sweep through Europe. Thus began the Kultur Kampf, a series of laws by which the Imperial Government of Germany attempted to restrict the activity and influence of the Catholic Church. Priests, religious, and bishops became outlaws and were forced out of the country. Churches were closed. In later years, Maria was to witness first hand the effects of the Kultur Kampf in Berlin where so many Churches had been closed that many people had to walk over an hour to the nearest Church.
This forced secularization did not leave the Lutheran Church untouched either, neither theologically nor legally. Many Lutheran ministers had begun to question even the fundamental truth of the Christian faith, belief in the Holy Trinity, and the Imperial Government enacted laws requiring the introduction of new rites and prayers which reflected a watered down theology. Maria followed all this with great interest, for her family was in the thick of the controversy as they held fast to belief in the Trinity and the old Lutheran rituals. Maria's mother had strongly supported her husband in his resistance to secularism and had helped to organize the meeting of prominent Lutheran pastors and politicians to encourage one another. Following her mother's death, Maria's father encouraged her to read the talks of the various political parties. Maria herself became hostess to prominent Lutherans from all fields and parts of Germany who came to visit her father.
In the midst of this, Maria's spirituality deepened. At her mother's death, she had experienced the closeness to God that resulted from suffering united with the Redeemer, Jesus. Now an ardent search for truth and a growing desire to prove her love for God by work and sacrifice took hold of Maria. She began to pray for humility, to read the Scriptures and The Imitation of Christ everyday, and to wait patiently for the time when she might prove her love for God by a "big sacrifice."
Four years after her mother's death, Maria's father remarried. Free from her household duties, Maria could devote all her time to the founding and organizing of a ladies' home mission organization. Within a short time Maria had gathered over forty young ladies who made and sold needlework to pay the salary of a missionary for there home city of Berlin. More than ever, Maria devoted her time to visiting the sick and poor. She also began a kind of youth group as she would gather together on Sundays the young girls near where she lived in order to keep them from demoralizing recreations.
However her search for truth and her desire to give God a "big sacrifice" in order to prove her love for Him remained unquenched. Under the urging of her father, she continued to read the speeches of the various members of the German parliament, but soon found herself interested only the speeches of the members of the Center Party, the Catholic political party in Germany. Through the speeches of the Center Party and her reading of Holy Scripture, Maria became imperceptibly "imbued with a truly Catholic spirit." To the chagrin of her father, this catholicity began to reveal itself.
Maria once asked her father if all Christians believed in the Perpetual Virginity of the Virgin Mary. Pastor Tauscher explained that one could "believe it if you want, but it is not necessary, and many do not believe it."
From her deepest conviction Maria replied, "Even if no one believed it, I, for one, would believe that the mother of God always remained a Virgin."
One evening several prominent Luthran Ministers were invited as guests to the Tauscher home. Discussing the Catholic belief in the infallibility of the Pope one minister said, "How can it be possible for a human being to declare himself infallible!"
Maria interjected quite simply, "It is not meant that way, but ex cathedra means the same as when the high priest of the Jews was prophesying only in his capacity as high priest."
The conversation quickly turned to another subject.
In 1877, Maria discovered that a man in Berlin who was revered for his piety and devotion was actually leading a very sinful life. This so shook Maria that she decided 
she would try a life without faith, practicing virtue as did the ancient Greek philosophers. After six weeks of her new way of life, a deep desire for God and prayer overcame Maria. With renewed zeal and energy, Maria now "worked to please God alone."
Maria's Sacrifice
In a quiet village not far from Berlin, the Tauscher family enjoyed a pleasant, quiet life as Maria approached her thirtieth year. Maria still spent her time in works of charity and prayer, yet her desire to make a "big sacrifice" continued to grow. As her thirtieth birthday approached, Maria felt an inner conviction that it would be the year God would call her into his service.
Not long before her thirtieth birthday, Maria received an invitation from Lady von C. to visit Bonn, a city in the far western part of Germany. Maria's father was glad to have her accept this invitation in order that she would have the opportunity to experience the beauty of the Rhineland.
Besides the wealth of her hostess and the scenery of the Rhine, Maria experienced something she had only dimly glanced at thus far -- Catholic life and faith. The piety expressed in the simple outdoor shrines in honor of the crucifix and the Blessed Mother, which Maria found scattered throughout the countryside, refreshed and renewed her spirit. When Maria entered for the first time the magnificent medieval Cathedral of Cologne, a city near Bonn, she immediately felt "at home." Yet she could not have imagined that just three years later she would kneel in this same monument of the Catholic faith to thank Our Lady for the grace of being received into the one, true Church.
Maria also had her first encounter with a priest while at the home of the Lady von C. Though Protestant, Maria's friends had invited the pastor of the local parish to dinner one evening. Taking a great interest in this first man of the Roman collar she had ever met, Maria turned the conversation to religion. As the conversation ended, the priest said to Maria, "But you are Catholic, are you not?"
"No, I have my own religion," she replied.
"But after all, what you believe is Catholic," said the priest.
Six months later, while visiting a family in Berlin, Maria read the following in a Cologne newspaper: Wanted: head nurse for a mental institution.
It seemed the answer to Maria's prayers. She immediately wrote to the institution and a few days later received a letter of acceptance. In the letter, the director informed her that "the whole institution, with few exceptions, are Catholic, except for me and my family. We are Lutheran." To her surprise, Maria received her father's consent immediately. On March 6, 1886, Maria boarded a train for Cologne to take up her new position at the Lindenburg mental institution.
Eager and enthusiastic, Maria boarded a train for Cologne, Germany, on the morning of March 6, 1886. Maria's desire for sacrifice to prove her love for God was finally becoming a reality. However, as the train sped farther from home and closer to Cologne and the Lindenburg mental institution, shy Maria's high spirits fell at the thought of the mentally ill with whom she had no experience, of living alone far from her family, and of having to meet so many new people. At the next stop, Maria ordered a good dinner with wine and having recovered her confidence, she prayed to God for help. The train arrived at Cologne in the midst of a terrible thunderstorm. Maria then took the twenty-minute streetcar ride to Lindenburg.
That evening the head nurse of the institution, whom Maria had come to replace, led her through the hospital and introduced her to some of the patients. Without warning, Maria found herself at the bedside of a dying woman. Never before had Maria seen the agony-distorted face or heard the death rattle in the throat of a person in her last moments. With some effort, Maria managed to maintain her composure. As she lay in her bed that first night, the storm that had greeted her arrival in Cologne continuing to howl, the memory of the dying woman prevented Maria from sleeping at all. But had she not asked for a big sacrifice? Despite the horrible impressions of her first days, never did it cross Maria's mind to return to Berlin.
To bring cheer and happiness to the over one hundred mentally ill women and girls under her care at Lindenburg, became Maria's mission. To each of them, Maria became a true mother. So great a change did her love make at the institution that visiting doctors began to remark that life at Lindenburg was not institutional, but real family life. Maria used her salary to provide small feasts for the patients and to pay for the funerals of those who had no relatives.
As she ministered to the needs of the patients, the truly Catholic atmosphere in which she now lived also fed Maria's soul. Nearly everyone at Lindenburg, nurses, employees, and patients, were Catholic. Maria delighted in the observation of the May devotions in honor of Our Lady. She looked forward to the month of June when she would be able to purchase candles for the chapel in honor of the Sacred Heart. Two priests, Fr. Wiskirchen and Rector Bong, who visited the manager and patients at Lindenburg, became acquainted with Maria and gave her a catechism. As she read it, she found what until then Maria took pity on the poor woman and obtained permission from the director to accompany the woman to the chapel before she returned home for a few weeks vacation. On June 17, 1887, Maria and the woman entered the beautifully decorated chapel. As they knelt down in the front pew, High Mass for the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus began.
At the end of Mass, Maria asked her patient to wait a few minutes, as she wanted to speak with the chaplain. In the sacristy, Maria found Fr. Wiskirchen. "Father, I want to become Catholic," she told the priest.
"You cannot do this so easily. First, on account of your father; and, second, you are going home anyway," Father replied.
For five months after her vacation, darkness filled Maria's soul as all will power and energy to overcome the obstacles to her entrance into the Church seemed to have left her. However, in January the clouds lifted and Maria began to secretly take instructions from Fr. Wiskirchen to enter the Catholic Church.
As winter turned into spring and Maria's entrance in to the Catholic Church drew near, she also prepared to leave Lindenburg, for she knew that the anti-Catholic sentiments of the director would make it impossible for her to remain at the institution after she had become Catholic. The officials of Lindenburg made every offer they could to convince Maria to stay, but to no avail, nor did she explain her reason for leaving. Secretly, Maria continued her instructions with Fr. Wiskirchen. In order not to disclose her whereabouts, Maria usually took a circuitous route to reach the priest's house. One day in May, during a heavy rainstorm, not caring if anyone discovered her, since she was leaving Lindenburg anyway, Maria took a short cut.
A few days later, Maria's father stood before her in the garden as she was walking with a lady. Maria knew why he had come. "Have you become Catholic already?" he asked as soon as they were alone. Maria assured her father she was not and tried to calm him. The next day, Pastor Tauscher took Maria back to Gusow.
It was not long before the director of Lindenburg wrote Maria's father promising to do everything he could to prevent Maria from entering the Catholic Church if her father would allow her to return to Lindenburg. Pastor Tauscher gave his consent, but before Maria boarded the train for Cologne, he demanded that Maria promise she would not become Catholic. "No, I cannot promise that," Maria said as she trembled with fear before her father and her weeping mother and sisters. She could only promise that it would not be that day or the next. With that, Maria boarded the train and left home forever.
In Cologne, Maria first called on her friends, Dr. and Mrs. Lohmer, who advised her that, since the director had called her back, to demand absolute religious independence. As soon as she arrived at Lindenburg, Maria went to see the director keeping the advice of her friends in mind. As soon as Maria mentioned "Catholic", the director declared, "Either you promise not to attend any Catholic Church and to stay away from priests, or you leave Lindenburg."
Maria remained silent as she considered her position. She could not return to Berlin, yet where else could she go? "I will not go to a Catholic Church, but if I cannot keep the promise anymore, I will let you know," she answered the director.
That Sunday, as Maria sat in her room and heard the church bells announce the start of Mass, she sank to her knees and wept. Never before had she felt so alone and forsaken. How to fulfill her desire of becoming Catholic? "Only God can do it," Maria told herself.
Several weeks later, Maria quietly slipped into the caretaker room to meet with Fr.. Wiskirchen and Fr. Bong during one of their visits to Lindenburg. After telling them of her desire to enter the Church and the prohibition of the director, the priests assured Maria that she could still be received into the Church. "Very well, then, please receive me tomorrow," Maria begged. Unable to do it himself on account of the director of Lindenburg, Fr. Bong arranged everything with the pastor of Holy Apostles Church, Fr. Esser. All was carried our in the greatest secrecy.
Now that Maria had officially become a member of the Catholic Church, she had to inform the director of Lindenburg that she could no longer keep her promise that she would not attend Mass. This Maria did on November 14, the Feast of All Saints of
Carmel, the day Carmelites throughout the world remember all those who have gone before them in holiness of life, a fact Maria did not know at that time.
"If you are a Catholic, I no longer have any confidence in you," came the director's angry reply. "I'll consult the superintendent at Cologne and then you will receive an answer."
Six days later, the director called Maria to his office. She was to leave Lindenburg on January 1, 1889 as there was "an excellent and experienced lady to replace" her.
In less than six weeks, Maria would be without both a home and means to support herself. She had already spent the last of her wages to buy coffins for several of her poorest patients. With the help of her friends, Maria began to look for a new home and work. Maria applied for several positions similar to her current one. Everywhere she was refused, due to the terrible references of the director of Lindenburg. Maria, however, knew she had asked God to lead her by "steep and stony way" and thus she could only thank God and trust in His continued guidance. Just before Christmas, Maria's confidence was rewarded. Through one of her friends, Maria was invited to live at a convent until she had found another position.
On January 7, 1889, Maria, "now the homeless one," arrived at the convent where she was greeted warmly by the superior. The superior first took Maria to the chapel where a sister was scrubbing the floor. Seeing the sister, a desire to do such menial tasks took hold of Maria and she asked the superior if she could help the sister. "Wait," the superior told her, "you will soon receive work."
The next day, Maria was given her duties. She was to clean the corridors and stairways of the annex and wash dishes for the sixteen elderly ladies in the nursing home attached to the convent. In her first days at the convent, the Forty Hours Devotion was also observed, a devotion which consists of forty continuous hours of adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. This was Maria's first experience of nocturnal Eucharistic Adoration. So filled was Maria with joy, that without realizing the time, she remained in prayer from nine o'clock in the evening until two o'clock in the morning.
Going about her daily routine of work, prayer, and solitude, Maria meditated on the Holy Family of Nazareth. When her body ached so badly from the unusual work that it interrupted her sleep, Maria thought of her Savior and His bleeding, weary body on the road to Calvary. Maria had never before known happiness such as this. Her happiest hours came, when in the evening, she could remain in the chapel, in prayer before her "Divine Lover." At the end of February, Maria became severely ill with an inflamed throat, so much that she could neither talk nor eat and had to remain in bed for many weeks. Maria regarded this too as the will of God. Instructed by God, Maria learned to embrace suffering with love and gratitude and found it transformed into joy.
"Is there really no work for me in this wide world?" Maria complained to the Blessed Mother as the weeks of searching for employment turned into months. As she recovered from her illness, Maria attended daily Mass at the nearby parish Church and made the Way of the Cross. Kneeling before the large crucifix, Maria concluded here prayer, "O, Lord, send me wherever You will to work for the salvation of souls. Fulfill the ardent longing of my soul, O God, to prove my love and gratitude to You. But, if it is possible, do not send me to Berlin. However, Your will be done, not mine."
Maria's real desire was to enter an Order. During this same time, Maria received an offer of marriage. But she "preferred to endure poverty and humiliations a thousand times over, rather than sacrifice her virginity. Once it is lost, the treasure is lost forever." And so with the help of her friends, Maria's search for employment continued.
Through Miss Kamper, Maria was introduced to Fr. Augustine Keller, a Dominican priest. Touched by Maria's story, Fr. Augustine said he would write to the Countess von Savigny in Berlin who might be willing to take Maria in as her traveling companion. Maria shivered at the thought of Berlin, yet a firm, "Not my will, but Yours be done," arose from her heart. A few days later Maria received an invitation from the Countess to come to Berlin.
Kneeling in the chapel the evening before he departure, Maria reminisced. She thought of Cologne where she had become a daughter of Holy Mother Church and where she had so many dear friends and acquaintances. She thought of the graces she had received in the silence and solitude of the convent. Above all, she thought of the many evenings spent in the darkness of the chapel in conversation with her Divine Lover in the Blessed Sacrament. The possibility of a long separation from Him "Who loves my soul" overwhelmed her.
On November 8, Maria arrived in Berlin and the home of the Van Savigny family. Though Maria was quickly acceted into the family circle, homesickness for Cologne and all it had meant to her left her in tears nearly every night. The nearness of her family, less than an hour´s train from Berlin, only intensified the pain of rejection. In this depravation of even legimate joys, Maria understood that God wanted to become her ALL. After a few months, Maria had one consolation-visiting the poor. Priests with whom Maria became aquainted provided her with money and addresses of the destitute in Berlin. Though these sporadic visits lent her some outlet, they did not satisfy her longing to give her life completely to the service of God in the poor. The plight of the poor, especailly the children gripped Maria´s heart. She longed to gather together these young ones who roamed the streets of Berlin, lest they become lost to the Sacred Heart, for there was no Catholic instutuion for children in Berlin.
One night Maria had dream. She saw a human body strechted out as though crucifcied with thorns covering it from it shoulders down to its feet and another crown of thorns on its heart. Maria understood that the body represented the Mystical Body of Christ on the earth, the Church with its Head, Jesus, in heaven no longer tormented by the powers of evil. The thorns around the body were the lasped and disloyal memebers of the Church and the of the world. The thorns around the heart stood for the sins of lukewarm and unfaithful religious and priests. When Maria awoke, she hurried to the early Mass with one desire- to make reparation, reparation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and beg God for the freedom of His Church Militant.
A week before the Ascension Maria and Countess Van Savigny returned to Berlin. The very next day, Maria went to visit Monsignor Jahnel, the Provost of Berlin.
“I was happy to see you at the communion rail this morning!” the Monsignor greeted Maria. Encouraged by this happy greeting, Maria explained to him her plan for a Catholic home for children. Msgr. Jahnel, too, had been contemplating such an idea. “First,” he ordered her, “you must look for a house.”
Maria had five-hundred marks the Countess had given her in gratitude and no experience in real estate. St. Joseph would provide. With the money Maria began to purchase the necessary things and daily wandered through the poor sections of Berlin in search of a suitable house. June, the month of the Sacred Heart passed with no success.
During the night of July 2, Maria had a dream.
I saw the Divine Majesty, God the Father in the clouds, in wondrous brilliance, directly above me. The right hand of God rested on the corner of a large, golden frame which enclosed a large cross on a background of silver. The cross was large, very large, and wrought most artistically in silver and gold. Lowering my eyes from the cross, I saw a great throng of Sisters spread over the entire hill on the top of which I was standing. The Sisters wore our habit, such as I had seen in the vision in Cologne, and they sang the Te Deum after I had become their superior.
Filled with amazement, I looked up to God, and then noticed that He was raising His left arm with the index finger pointing straight out. Following the direction indicated, I saw in the cloud the partly visible figure of the Divine Savior, just as God the Father also appeared, looking down upon me with an expression of heavenly kindness and love.
I was all on fire with an indescribable, rapturous ecstasy and filled with amazement. The wordless question arose within me: What does this mean? Without a word, in a moment, the meaning was revealed to me, “If you found this Order for me, if you take these sufferings upon yourself as signified by this large cross, then my Son will be your everlasting reward.
The next morning, Maria hurried to the Church of St. Hedwig, went to visit her poor, and then returned home. On her arrival the Countess told Maria that Monsignor Jahnel had come to see her and that she should go to his office the next day.
On July 3 Maria went again to visit the Monsignor. He had found a house for her and gave her the address. Maria went immediately to 112 Pappel Allee where she now stood in front of small, old house. Going inside she found that all the rooms, except for two and kitchen, were occupied by rough looking tenets with long leases. No one intended to move.
Nevertheless, Maria began to prepare the house to receive children.
Two days after her meeting with Fr. Dasbach, Maria sat in the office of Msgr. Jahnel awaiting his arrival for their eleven o'clock appointment. The Monsignor entered the room, and after a brief greeting, Maria told her happy news that she had everything necessary for a Chapel. Msgr. Jahnel, however, remained sceptical and refused to grant Maria permission until all the tenants had moved out of the house in the Papel Allee. Maria returned to the Van Savigny home and explained the whole affair to Miss Anne. The last tenants would not move until they had been paid 100 marks and Msgr. Jahnel would not grant permission until the little house was free of tenants. Miss Anne then placed 100 marks in Maria's hand.
Maria returned the next day to Msgr. Jahnel. By now it was the beginning of November. The tenants had agreed to leave the Papel Allee in two weeks and Maria hoped to open the chapel on December 8 in honor of the Immaculate Conception. Once again she was forced to wait, as Monsignor would not write the bishop for the altar stone until the people had actually moved out of the Papel Allee.
Two weeks later, Maria watched the last two men and women vacate the St. Joseph's home, paid them their 100 marks, and hurried once more to the office of Msgr. Jahnel.
This time he told Maria, "Now you may get the chapel ready, and I will write for the altar stone, which should be here in eight to ten days."
Maria now had the chapel, but she did not dare ask permission to have the Blessed Sacrament reserved.
With the help of the young ladies which made up the newly formed Sacred Heart Society to assist St. Joseph's home, Maria was busily preparing everything for December 8. One of them suddenly asked, "Could we all receive Holy Communion on this great day? Oh, Miss Tauscher, couldn't you please go to Monsignor and ask him?
Once again Maria stood in the office of the prelate of Berlin and presented her request. A few moments of silence followed before Monsignor answered, "I had planned to reserve the Blessed Sacrament."
Stunned, astounded, overcome with joy, Maria could only reply, "Yes, praised be Jesus Christ!"
Late in the evening on December 7, the last of the items for the chapel arrived. A wagon waited in front of the house to take Maria and her few possessions across Berlin to the St. Joseph's Home where Maria would take up her position as the sole guardian of the Blessed Sacrament. At nine-thirty, Maria went to Miss Anne's room to say good-bye. Suddenly frozen by terror and fear, Maria stood motionless. "My God," she exclaimed, "have you forgotten that I am only human?" Forcing herself past her horror, Maria gaveAnne a last embrace and
aced down to the wagon.
Half an hour later, Maria arrived in her new home. Working through the night to prepare the chapel for the morning's feast, Maria's sorrow turned into joyful anticipation. Msgr. Jahnel began the Mass at the stroke of eight o'clock and a few minutes later the great God took up His residence in the Papel Allee. That evening, after all the guests had returned home, Maria knelt in the darkness of the chapel before her Love. She was no longer alone.
In May of 1892 Maria had a dream. As she slept, she saw herself standing towards the top of a high cliff. Suddenly a wild rush of water flowed down over the cliff. Maria thought she would be caught up in the torrent, but turning her head to the left, she saw in the clouds a little crucifix. She stretched out her arms and felt her soul unite with the Suffering Jesus. Her soul was filled with an immense confidence in God and joy in suffering. Then from the right came another flood of water, greater and more furious than the first. It
joined with the first torrent creating a gigantic, roaring mass of water rushing around Maria. The next day, so overcome with a desire to prove her love for God by suffering, that she began a novena to ask God for suffering. The house in the Papel Allee was often cold and damp, so that the children became ill and, to Maria's great grief, several of the little ones died. At the advice of the doctor and with the permission of Msgr. Jahnel, Maria rented a house in the suburb of Orienburg and in June, went there with the children.
Maria left the St. Joseph's Home in the care of one of her sisters.
The children revived wonderfully in the new climate and on July 2, they returned to Berlin. There, Maria found a letter from Msgr. Jahnel waiting for her. Taking the letter, she went to the Chapel. After, greeting our Lord, she opened the letter:
Berlin July 1, 1892
Esteemed Miss:
Heretofore I have observed your effort and your wok with favorable interest. But gradually, I have become convinced that your foundation will not survive. I withdraw my approval and, I ask, therefore, that collection books, which no doubt have not created much revenue be taken back and submitted to me when convenient. I regret, that this institution,in which I had placed such great hopes, does not show itself able to survive.
With respectful Greetings,
Jahnel
Maria's nature felt the blow, but as in her dream she felt her soul plunged into union with her Divine, Suffering Savior.
A few days later, as Maria was leaving the St. Matthias Church after confession, a few of the ladies from the Sacred Heart Society came to her in great excitement, Miss Tauscher, they asked her, "Have you heard that the Msgr. Jahnel announced in the Catholic Societies that he has withdrawn his approval from you, and no one may give you assistance? Soon, a notice to the same effect was also published in the Catholic newspapers. Next, Maria received official notice from Monsignor Jahnel that she must vacate the Papel Allee by October 1, 1892, to which was added, *By no means go to the pastor Fr. Alesch, he is so angry with you, he will throw you down the steps. Fr. Alesch was the pastor of the nearest Church where Maria took the children to Mass when they had no priest. It was now August when finally, one morning before Mass, the resident chaplain, a priest studying in Berlin, informed Maria, The Monsignor, ordered me to consume the Blessed Sacrament this morning.
The summer passed into autumn and Maria persevered in prayer and work. Since no other home could be found for the ninety children in the St. Joseph*s Home, Monsignor Jahnel extended the lease until April of 1893. As the Feast of the Immaculate Conception drew near, Maria began a novena with the children that The Blessed Sacrament would return to the Papel Allee. In the middle of the novena Maria went once more to the office of the Delegature. To Maria*s great surprise, Monsignor Jahnel l received her.
"I had intended to visit you and see how things were going," he said in a friendly manner, "God permitted these things to try your faith."
Though the gossip surrounding Maria slowly quieted down, no retraction of the condemnations against her, either in print or from the pulpit, were made. And so, Maria continued to encounter both clergy and lay people who were in opposition to her and the St. Joseph's Home. Inspired by the humility and love for contempt of St. Francis of Assisi and St. John of the Cross, as long as God's work did not suffer, Maria was content to be treated like a rag. But for Maria, the hardest trial of these months remained the absence of her Friend. Monsignor Jahnel would not grant permission for the Blessed Sacrament to be reserved until a house chaplain once again resided in the Papel Allee. Through December, January, February, March, Maria continued to work and pray, but her soul felt as dormant and cold as winter. In the midst of this darkness, however, God deigned to visit Maria once again. In March 1893 Maria found a chaplain in Fr. Feldman and on April 1, the very day they should have evacuated the Papel Allee, the Blessed Sacrament was again reserved in the Chapel.
Since 1892, Maria had been sending out this call in the German Catholic publications throughout Europe: Who will save the white pagan child? She went on to described the spiritual and material misery of the poor and working class of Berlin and the need of others to join in the work she had begun. Maria called this band- 'Servants of the Divine Heart,' and in this way she gained both benefactors and volunteers. Many of the benefactors came personally to visit the Papel-Allee and wondered at the joyful and healthy appearance of the children, despite their poverty. However, most of the girls who came to Berlin soon returned home either appalled by the poverty and hardships or convinced by a priest that Maria Tauscher was crazy to think she could establish a religious community.
By 1894, the family of the St. Joseph*s Home had grown to over one-hundred children, forcing Maria to established two branch homes to accommodate all the children. Maria placed Sr. Bernadine, later Mother Bernadine, the first candidate and an unusually reliable young woman, as head of one of the new homes and another young volunteer in the other. However, most of the girls who came to Berlin soon returned home either appalled by the poverty and hardships or convinced by a priest that Maria Tauscher was crazy to think she could establish a religious community, leaving Maria to bear the burden of caring for over one-hundred children in three homes almost entirely alone. She personally handled all mail and correspondence, managed the books, and received the visits of benefactors and visitors in all three homes. In the spring of 1895, construction began on a new building in the Papel-Allee which Maria paid for herself entirely from the donations of benefactors.
As Maria's sleep dwindled, her health so declined that Msgr. Jahnel order her to rest lest she die and 'he inherit the whole miserable group.' Maria remembered a relative of Countess Van Savigny who lived in the mountains of Mariaschein, Bohemia. So, in September 1895, Maria left the home in the care of her sister Magdalena and left for a respite from her taxing duties. Maria asked the Countess who she would recommend for a confessor and it was thus that she met Fr. S. From their first encounter, Maria had an instinctive distrust of this priest who probed her about every aspect of the St. Joseph's Home. After several weeks Maria returned to Berlin from Mariaschein in order to prepare the chapel of the new building, which was soon filled with the Italians living in the neighborhood. The following Fall, 1896, Maria returned to Mariaschein for another brief rest. The pleas of the Countess and the sight of the poor children moved Maria to open a St. Joseph's Home in the nearby village of Graupen. During this visit, Fr. S was again her confessor. On this occasion, he also informed Maria that God had chosen him to lead this work and thus he demanded 'absolute obedience' from her.
In November 1896, the new building was ready for the children and the old building turned into the convent. From then on, Maria and the candidates combined their care of the children and home mission work with the observance of the Carmelite Rule and the Constitutions of St. Teresa of Jesus, the sixteenth century Carmelite reformer. This meant a life of prayer and penance, poverty, chastity, and obedience in community. Many priests tried to dissuade Mother from following the way of life of Carmel, but Maria remained undaunted.
I would let myself be crucified for the Carmel, either genuine religious according to the ideal of the founder or none at all.* she maintained. Maria had explained her ideal of living according to the old Rule and Constitutions of Carmel in a letter to Cardinal Kopp and regarded his silence as approval. Maria was also being advised by several priests to seek ecclesiastical approval in Rome for her community. The Carmelite priests with whom she corresponded told her that only the Father General in Rome could help her reach her goal. Fr. S had also come to Berlin in 1896 and with his fine words and charm won the admiration of all. To the priests and others under his spell, he openly announced his plan to use Mother*s foundation for his own intention. To this purpose, he gave conferences to the candidates in the Pappel Allee and also brought other young women to visit Berlin who wanted to join 'his' new congregation.
In January 1897, Mother opened a hospice for priests where also devout laymen, mostly members of the Center Party, the Catholic political party, could live. Now these priests could say Mass without having to walk a mile to the nearest Church. Cardinal Kopp donated a 1000 marks to the hospice. Near this time, Fr. S was again at the Pappel Allee. Before Mass, the day before the Feast of the Holy Name (at that time this was celebrated on January 1st), he announced that all those who had been at the St. Joseph's Home one year or more were to privately pronounce their vows during the consecration. He gave Maria the formula for profession which concluded with the clause 'according to the intention of Fr. S.' But, Fr. S had not explained his intention. The struggle in Maria's reason and conscience over the direction of Fr. S now broke into war. Obey, yes, Maria desired to obey even to the point of being stepped on and thrown about like rag. But how could one make a vow for which one had no preparation and the purpose of which was not disclosed! Maria remained in the chapel through the consecration, but hardly had she 'pronounce' her 'vows,' when she could no longer contain herself and raced to her cell. She took up the discipline and in her excitement threw it against the wall. The sound of the discipline hitting the floor startled her out of her fury. In a few minutes she had calmed down and resumed her interior struggle.
At half past six on the morning of November 24, 1898, a cab arrived in front of the St. Joseph's Home in Papel Allee. The sisters who composed the little "Society of the Sacred Heart" had all gathered at the front door to bid Maria and her traveling companion, Sr. Maria Teresia, farewell, and, with tears in their eyes, promised to pray and sacrifice for the success of their endeavor. Maria and her traveling companion boarded the cab, carrying with them a small statue of the Pieta covered with a black cloth, and disappeared down the street toward the train station. The train took the pair through Germany, Switzerland, and Italy, until at last, near midnight, they heard the cry, "Roma, Roma!" Alighting the train, they quickly hailed a carriage that drove them to the Hotel Minerva.
The Eternal City! Maria's heartbeat fast the next morning as she hurried with Sr. Maria Teresia towards St. Peter's Basilica. At the first sight of the majestic building, with its outstretched arms, Maria caught her breath in amazement. Slowly, she and Sr. Maria Teresia ascended the steps that led to the entrance. "How did I come here?" Maria wondered, almost compelled to fall on her knees at the very entrance. She approached the "Confessio," and, after sending Sr. Maria Teresia to have a look around, remained there kneeling. She could only think in love and gratitude of all the times she had heard her father say, *Oh, go away with your St. Peter!* Had not Divine Providence brought her from the Lutheran church to the center of the Catholic world?
That afternoon, Maria delivered the letter of Fr. Kapenberg to Fr. Van Oldenberg and discussed with him her purpose in coming to Rome. He, in turn, recommended that she visit Msgr. Jaquemine, as he could best be of assistance to her. This good priest counsled her to first make a novena to St. Teresa of Jesus, the sixteenth century Carmelite Reformer, at the Church of Maria Della Scalla where a relique of her foot is venerated. Undaunted by the daily torrential downpours of Rome's rainy season the two faithfully made the forty-five minute pilgrimage for nine consecutive days.
Maria then visited the Carmelite Fathers in Rome. The father with whom she spoke simply informed her that they could do nothing for her until the Father General returned after Christmas. After visiting every possible priest, monsignor, and offical without coming even one step closer to obtaining any sort of approbation for her little community, Maria and her companion began a second novena at Maria Della Scalla. In the middle of the novena, Maria felt prompted to visit the Carmelite Fathers once more.
At the beginning of December, Maria visited the Generalate of the Carmelite Fathers once more. This time Fr. Benedict came to see her and greeted her: *I am very glad that you came again. I spoke to the procurator, Fr. G.R., and he is very eager to meet with you and discuss with you the means of assisting you.* Two more priests also joined the conversation, but nothing could be done without the Father General, who would not return to Rome until after Christmas.
Maria continued to wait and pray. She and Sr. Maria Teresia spent Christmas at the Basilica of St. Mary Major, and after the services, went to see the Father General of the Carmelites, Fr. Bernadine of St. Teresa. He received them warmly, gave them sound advice, and told them to return the next day. On December 26, Father Bernadine blessed Maria*s scapular and received her into the Carmelite Order.
Maria was ready to return to Berlin immediately, however, without a written recommendation from a Cardinal, no bishop would ever except her and her Sisters as religious or grant permission for a Motherhouse. So, the following day, Fr. Benedict accompanied Maria to an audience with Cardinal Parrochi, the protector of the Carmelite Order.
The Cardinal received them kindly and, after a short conference, told them to return the next evening. The following evening, December 28, as the Angelus bells died away, Maria waited outside the office of His Eminence praying with the greatest intensity. Finally, after an hour, Fr. Benedict reappeared through the office door and from the expression on his face Maria knew she had received the longed for recommendation.
Full of joy and gratitude at having accomplished her end in Rome, Maria, now Mother Maria Teresa of St. Joseph, began the journey back to Berlin. Yet, she was not without a certain foreboding. In the eight weeks since she had left Berlin, she had received very little news from her Sisters. But just before Christmas, a telegram had been delivered to Mother reporting that the superiors of both St. Joseph*s Homes in Bohemia had abandoned their communities. In what condition she would find her little community, Mother did not know.
As soon as she had read the letter from Cardinal Kopp ending with the words, I hereby forbid you to wear the religious habit both within and outside of the institution, Mother Maria Teresa of St. Joseph hastened to Fr. K, pastor of the vicinity of the Pappel Allee and a loyal friend of the St. Joseph's Homes.
After Mother had told him everything that had happened in Rome and showed him both the recommendation of Cardinal Parrochi and the letter from Cardinal Kopp he asked her, "What will you do now?"
"Leave Berlin and look for a Bishop who will grant the permission for a Motherhouse and novitiate," Mother answered
"And what will become of the St. Joseph's homes?" countered Fr.K.
"St. Father Joseph will take care of them," Maria responded.
"Now," replied the Pastor, "God can show that it is His work."
That night Mother prepared for her departure from Berlin. On January 22, as the city of Berlin was just rousing itself from sleep, Mother and her ever faithful companion, Sr. Maria Teresia, boarded the earliest train for Bremen, a city in the northwest corner of Germany. In Bremen, a friend of Mother, Msgr. Grobmeir, believed her could obtain permission for a Motherhouse from the Bishop of Munster. At this same time, Mother also received an invitation from a priest in Leitmeritz (in present day Slovakia) to establish the Motherhouse.
With her companion, Mother now traveled east. Unfortunately, this priest had not asked the permission of the bishop, nor would the Bishop grant permission, as another order of sisters already resided in that town. The bishop of Munster also seemed hesitant to allow Mother into his diocese and, thus, she decided to press on southward to Regensburg.
On their way to Regensburg, Mother and her companion passed the long, nocturnal layover in Eger in the waiting room. Offered a quiet place to rest by a kind station official, Sr. Maria Teresia quickly fell asleep. Mother*s mind however, wandered from one St. Joseph's Home to the next, commending each of them to good God. "Lord what would you have me do?" she continued to pray.
"Lord Your Will be done. Forget me and think of Thee alone."
The next day in Regensburg, Maria went to the Carmelite Friars. The Father who received her believed it would be impossible to establish the Motherhouse in Germany and recommended that she go to the Netherlands. Mother also called upon another friend for advice, Fr. Bamberg. He concurred that the most likely place to obtain permission for a motherhouse and novitiate was the Netherlands.
Continuing her search for a Bishop who would grant approval for a Motherhouse and novitiate, Mother Mary Teresa arrived in Roermond, Netherlands with Sr. Maria Teresia on February 7 or 8 1898. Strangers in a totally strange country, they began wandering from convent to convent seeking lodging for the night. Finally, a sister at the Ursuline convent directed them to a family boarding house just across the street. There, a lovely Dutch girl opened the door to them and the mistress of the house, a widow, welcomed them warmly and showed them to the vacant room. Touched by Mother*s pitiable condition after almost three weeks of constant travel, the woman immediately brought her a glass of wine. "It doesn't cost anything," she added.
Once alone, Mother sank to her knees before the little statue of the Pieta that she had brought with her and implored the Mother of God to show her the way, to help her know the Will of God. She had only been alone a short time when a knock at the door interrupted her prayer and the kind hostess reentered the room. The woman asked how Mother was feeling and then began to pour out her own sad story. Only a few months ago, her husband had died a rather sudden death and thus she was forced to take in boarders in order to support herself and her daughter. "But the good rector never forsook me, he is a good, pious priest," she concluded
"Where does this good rector live?" Mother asked.
"Don't you know the Church of Our Lady?" the good woman asked, "Right here, this road flanked with trees on both sides, leads to the Church and the monastery not even two miles distant."
Mother felt within her that this was the answer to her prayers. The next day, after sending a telegram to the Sisters in Germany telling them of her whereabouts, she went straight to the Church of our Lady. The Rector of the Church, Fr. Lochmeijer, advised Mother to seek admission into the diocese of Roermond. The following day Mother called on the secretary of the Bishop, but was told that a decree of the diocesan chapter forbade the admission of any more religious into the diocese. He thought she should try the diocese of 's-Hertogenbosch. The Bishop of 's-Hertogenbosch was indeed willing to take them into his diocese, if they could find a house for the convent. Mother searched up and downthe diocese, but no house could be found.
Weary, Mother returned to Roermond and the Church of Our Lady. She had been in the Netherlands for over a month, apparently to no avail. After Fr. Lochmeijer heard all Mother's wanderings and efforts, he said decisively, "Go to Sittard. That is the place for you." Mother went immediately.
Having searched in vain for a house in all the cities north of Roermond, Netherlands that bordered Germany, Mother Mary Teresa decided to follow the advice of Fr. Lochmeijer and head south to the small city of Sittard. Mother had little hope of success, for this city belonged to the diocese of Roermond, whose chapter had forbidden the admittance of any new religious. But the Father Rector of the Church of Our Lady of Zand had been so emphatic this was place for her, and as she had no other ideas of where to turn, Mother decided to go to Sittard.
Arrived in Sittard on March 10, 1898, the large steeple which dominated the skyline of the city led Mother and Sr. Maria Teresia directly to the main Church. They entered the Church and there, near the entrance, stood a statue of St. Peter. It was the epistles of this great Saint that had inspired and taught her in her youth and she had always felt his special protection. Here, too, he met her and this gave her great confidence that she had not come to Sittard in vain.
At the rectory, the Dean, Fr. Linders, greeted them warmly and after becoming acquainted with their situation said immediately that a novitiate and motherhouse would be blessing for the city, he would gladly take them in, and he even knew of house they could purchase for the convent. To Mother's objection that the diocese would not admit any new religious, he simply told her to go the Vicar General, for it is always within the bishop's power to admit more religious. He then lead them to the house he had in mind. It was about a ten minutes walk from the Church, on a hill that overlooked the city. One apartment was already vacant and the other families would soon move out if Mother wanted to purchase the house.
The next day, Mother called on the Vicar General in Roermond. Without much ado, he refused her permission for a motherhouse and novitiate. Thinking a minute, Mother asked him if it would be possible for them to be permitted to a temporary admission of two years. The Vicar General told her to return the next day for an answer. On March 12, 1898, Mother received from the hands of the Vicar General of Roermond, written permission to open a Motherhouse and novitiate, though only for two years.
On March 19, 1898, Mother Mary Teresa of St. Joseph and Sr. Maria Teresia knelt for the last time before the little statue of Mary in the Chapel of Our Lady of Zand. It had been almost two months since Mother Mary Teresa of St. Joseph and Sr. Maria Teresia had left Berlin, wandering about Germany and the Netherlands in search of a diocese were they could establish a Motherhouse and novitiate for the Carmel of the Divine Heart of Jesus. But finally, in the Diocese of Roermond and the city of Sittard they had found a home. On March 19, the first Sisters from Germany met Mother in Roermond and then the happy band boarded the train for Sittard to take possession of their new convent. Over the following days and months more Sisters arrived from Germany and as the tenants began to move out, Mother and the Sisters slowly transformed the house on the Kollenberg into the Mother House of the Carmelite Sisters, DCJ. At last the Chapel was blessed and the Blessed Sacrament reserved on October 30.
Now Mother had to begin the training of the novices. On February 2, the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord in the Temple, the postulants were invested with the habit of the Carmelite Order. Mother could not bring her self to enter the chapel during the ceremony. Kneeling in the doorway of the Chapel seeing before her the souls entrusted to her care and training, to whom she was to be mother and mistress, she could only whisper, "Oh, Lord I am not worthy." Until, in a cry of trust and love, she added, "Oh, Lord, Your Will be done."
The next few months passed in a peaceful happiness. Mother had brought a small group of children from Germany to Sittard, and so, a children's home was also opened. Through an old, blind Jesuit Father, the work of the sisters and their poverty became known and hardly a day went by without something being left on the doorstep of the convent. During this time also, both Dean Linders, the dean of Sittard and Bishop Boermans of Roermond died . On the First Friday of June 1899, the new Dean of Sittard called at the convent. Bishop Drehmanns had sent him with the sad news that as a new Bishop he felt bound to the Chapter decree that granted Mother and her Sisters permission to remain in the diocese of Roermond only until March of 1900.
The news that by September 15, 1900 the Motherhouse in Sittard would have to be closed, was followed quickly by a new threat from the East. In Berlin, the Father Delegate of the Cardinal had come to the St. Joseph's Home in the Pappelallee demanding that the sisters both there and in the other convents within the diocese of Brelau-Berlin either separate from Mother, joining their work to another existing religious community, or vacate the houses, in which case they to would be turned over to the Diocese. None of the sisters, however, wished to abandon Mother.
Mother did not share the news of the pending suppressions of both Sittard and Berlin with anyone, in order that the novices might not be disturbed during their preparation for profession. To have to give up the homes in Berlin did not worry her. The St. Joseph's Homes had been built for God alone and He could with them as He pleased. Thus, Mother simply instructed the Sisters in Berlin to look for a new house. But what to do with the convent in Sittard did troubled her, for it seemed to her that she had been mistaken to purchase the house since now they had to abandon it. Who would buy it now after it had been renovated into a convent?
At the end of November, Mother traveled to Bohemia to help the Sisters move into their new house. On her return trip to Sittard, Mother stopped to pray at a shrine of our Lady. Completely forgetting the presence of the Sister accompanying her, she poured out her anxiety over the convent in Sittard in bitter tears. Then she heard a voice within her, clear and distinct, "Until later." In a moment trust and confidence replaced her sorrow and anxiety. That same day Mother continued onto Tillburg, Netherlands and to her joy obtained the permission of the Bishop for the sisters to be bale to establish a home for children and wear the religious habit.
Christmas came and went followed in February by the profession of the novices. In a spirit of love and sacrifice, the Sisters accepted the news that in a few months they would have to leave Sittard. With the suppression of the Motherhouse, the Sisters were only permitted to make private vows and not official public vows. In the candle-lit Chapel, each sister went before the shrine of the Infant Jesus and in the silence of her heart promised Him poverty, chastity, and obedience.
Time was quickly running out for the Motherhouse in Sittard, Netherlands. To Mother Mary Teresa's great relief the Bishops of the dioceses of Tilburg, Netherlands and Leitmeritz, Bohemia would permit the sisters who had made their novitiate in Sittard to wear the habit within their dioceses. Mother began to transfer the Dutch children with some of the sisters to Tilburg and the rest of the sisters to Bohemia. Finally, September 15 arrived. The last Mass had been celebrated and now the tabernacle was empty. The wagon was waiting outside to take Mother the last remaining sisters and children to Tilburg. But Mother had not forgotten the words of Our Lady, "Until later." Taking a statue of the Sorrowful Mother, she placed it before the empty tabernacle and then set out with her sisters for their new home in Tilburg.
Meanwhile, in Berlin, the threatened evictions had not been carried out. Since the sisters there had refused to separate from Mother, the Delegate of Cardinal Kopp intended to turn over the St. Joseph's home in the Papel Allee to another religious community. Several communities showed an interest in taking over the home for children, that is, until they learned that almost none of the children paid board and that the house had practically no regular income. The sisters for their part searched for another house to which they could transfer the Home, but no house large enough for over one-hundred people could be found. In the end, the Father Delegate did not seem willing to throw the sisters and children out on the street.
In Tilburg the house was small and, as usual, the poverty extreme, but all were happy. Mother had been there only one month when on the Pastor the nearby parish called to deliver a message from the Bishop. He was very sorry to have to be the bearer of this news, but the Bishop had sent him to inform Mother that, while he was glad to have the sisters in his diocese, he had not granted permission for a motherhouse and novitiate. Therefore Mother herself would have to leave for wherever she has would certainly be the Motherhouse and novitiate. She was permitted to remain in Tilburg more eight weeks. Where to now? No bishop in either the Netherlands or Germany would admit her into his diocese. Turning to her Heavenly Father in prayer, she recalled the story of three prominent young Swiss men who had converted to Catholicism and then entered Carmelite monastery in Kensington, England recently founded by Herman Cohen, a famous Jewish convert. She immediately wrote to Father Herman about her situation and asked him to petition the bishop on her behalf for admission into his diocese. The reply came: If you come yourself, you will surely receive the permission.
Mother Mary Teresa of St. Joseph wasted no time in following the advice of the Carmelite Fathers in Kensington to come to England. At her request, the Carmelite Father's had asked Cardinal Vaughn for the admission of her nad her sisters into his diocese. Though he had not granted it then, the friars had written Mother that they were certain if she came in person, the Cardinal would reply favorably. What else could she do? The very next day Mother and Sr. Maria Teresia of St. Peter were sailing across the English Channel.
Arriving in London, Mother and her faithful traveling companion had entered into a new world of English language and misty fog. They made their way across London to East End, the district of the poorer classes, and through its endless rows of little cottages until they reached the convent of French sisters where Fr. Benedict O.C.D. had made arrangements for their lodging. Following the advice of the Carmelite Fathers, Mother obtained an audience with Cardinal Vaughn within few days. He received her very kindly and ended the conversation by saying, "I am now going to Rome. There I will make inquiries concerning you; until then you may remain in my diocese."
Thus, Mother and Sr. Maria Teresia prepared to settle in London for the time being. They found a place to board with a good English family, the Butlers, and a priest near by who could heart hear their confessions in German. With little to do but wait for word from the Cardinal, they applied themselves to the study of English and were soon able to make use of the new language. November passed and Christmas approached and still there was no word from His Eminance. Outside, dense winter fog covered the city and inside the one little room of the cottage to which Mother and Sr. Maria Teresia were confined, illness and uncertainty about the future gripped its two inhabitants. December turned into January and February was fast approaching, yet Mother's confidence in God's Providence and her subsequent patience endure until summoned by Cardinal Vaughn remained steadfast. At the beginning of February, Mother received word from some Benedictine Fathers that perhaps the Bishop of Ramsgate would grant permission for a foundation in his diocese. When Mother told their confessor, Fr. Green of this possibility, he, unbeknownst to Mother went immediately to Cardinal Vaughn and told him that Mother was still waiting to hear from him. At last, Mother received and invitation from Cardinal Vaughn to an audience.
Again, the Cardinal received Mother most kindly and at the end of their long conversation he took paper and pen in hand, wrote, and then handed it to Mother. Tears filled her eyes as read permission not only for a convent, but for a Motherhouse and novitiate as well.
"Now go to Maldon and Fr. Verres, a German priest will help you find a house." With that, Cardinal Vaughn concluded his audience with Mother Maria Teresa of St. Joseph and sent her on her way with his blessing to establish a novitiate and Motherhouse. A few days later, Mother and her ever faithful companion Sr. Maria Teresia found their way to Maldon, about two hours distance from London. Fr. Verres had already been busy looking for a house and first showed Mother an old abbey with a villa attached to it. Mother, however, noticed four small row houses under construction across from the poor, Catholic chapel in the city. Two of them were almost finished, so Mother asked the agent to show her inside. By simply cutting doors in between to connect the houses, they would be perfect for a convent, chapel, and home for children, Mother thought. Mother asked the agent to obtain permission from the owner to make the necessary changes and she would pick up the key at Fr. Verres rectory on March 18.
On the set date Mother and Sister Maria Teresia bid farewell to London and the family with whom they had boarded and arrived to Maldon with their few possessions. But, when they went to the rectory, the key was not there. The owner would not allow them to connect the four houses and therefore would not give them the keys. Unperturbed, Mother went to investigate. Just as she thought, the two houses already complete were unlocked and, except for wallpaper and plumbing, ready for occupancy.
"Here we and here we stay," Mother declared and set down her suitcase.
Weeks by and still the owner refused to let the houses be connected by inner doors. Mother longed for the Blessed Sacrament, but without an inner passageway, the Chapel could not be arranged. As the weeks turned into months, Mother could no longer hide her tears from the sisters. Finally, a neighbor informed Mother that the houses were to be put up for auction. This way she could buy them herself and refashion them however she liked. The neighbor, a contractor offered to help with the construction as soon as the property was purchased. "No," Mother answered, "We start immediately, but you must do it secretly."
On July 2, 1901 the Chapel was dedicated and on November 22, the sisters of the second novitiate of the Carmel of the Divine Heart of Jesus were invested with their habits.
It was now December 1901. The second Motherhouse and novitiate of the Carmel of the Divine Heart of Jesus were now established in Maldon, England. But it was almost four years since Mother Mary Teresa of St. Joseph had left Berlin and during that time neither she nor any of the Sisters who had made their novitiate in Sittard had visited the five homes of that city. Finally, Mother dared to ask Cardinal Kopp, Archbishop of Berlin-Breslau, for permission to visit in her religious habit and this was granted.
In January 1902, Mother made the journey to Berlin, where she found that things were running smoothly under the administration of Mrs. Hiltl, a widow who had come to the St. Joseph*s Home some years previously. Mother*s could not remain long however, as she was informed that if she wished to see the Father General of the Carmelites she must go to Milan. Mother also had premonition of another purpose for this trip.
After meeting with Father General, Mother and her two traveling companions stopped in Lugano, from where Sr. Mechtildis would transfer to Zurich for ear treatments. Mother decided to stay overnight to be able to attend Mass and then continue onto Berlin the next morning. As she stepped off the train, Mother spotted a Sister of St. Vincent and asked her where they might find lodging for the night. The good sister took the three Carmelites under her wing and with Italian warmth and vivacity settled them in at their academy. During this time Mother acquainted her with the Carmel of the Divine Heart of Jesus. The Sister of St. Vincent knew that a certain, Mrs Freidman would take great interest in this work and called her to come and meet Mother. Mrs. Freidman in turn described to Mother the great mission field that existed in Zurich. She also had a friend there, Dr. Pestalozzi, who she felt certain would help them. All this seemed to Mother the guiding hand of Divine Povidence.
The next day, Mother arrived in Zurich at the hospital of the Sisters of the Holy Cross as had been arranged by Mrs. Freidman. Dr. Pestalozzi was not in the city at the time, but around noon the pastor of nearby Alstetten called on Mother. He had seen her at the hospital early that day and had been haunted by the idea that he should ask her to send sisters to his parish, an intention he had been remembering at Mass for two years.
That afternoon Mother Maria Teresa of St. Joseph went to the parlor of the hospital in Zurich where the pastor of nearby Altstetten, Switzerland was waiting to meet her. Mother was in Zurich on her way back to Berlin so that one of the sisters could receive ear treatments from a doctor there. The pastor, too, had been at the hospital that morning, collecting money to pay the debt on his church. For two years he had been praying for sisters to help in his parish and, since seeing Mother that morning, he had been pursued by the thought that he should ask her to send sisters to help in his parish. The pastor described the conditions in his parish which spread out into the thirteen small hamlets surrounding Altstetten and even up into the mountains. As he spoke Mother sensed what a great mission field awaited her there and agreed to come and visit.
Her brief visit convinced Mother to establish a St. Joseph's Home for children in the small town. After finding a couple rooms near the church as temporary lodging for her and the sisters, she went to Church to ask the permission of the Bishop. The ailing Bishop listened with great interest, but then told Mother that no matter how necessary, it would be impossible to obtain approval from the civil authorities, since all religious foundation were prohibited by law.
Mother thought a minute and then replied, "But we are still without ecclesiastical approbation, perhaps this might make it possible to obtain the permission." His Excellency did not think this would make a difference, but mother asked once more if she could at least try her luck with the authorities.
Yes, go and try," he answered, "but I believe it will be in vain; however, I give you my blessing.
The next morning, as Mother sat writing letters, she heard clearly and distinctly, though inaudible to the sisters with her, "Go to Schlieren." After dinner, Mother suggested that they take a walk to Schlieren, a place none of them had ever heard of before. When they came to the end of the main street, Mother suggested they take the road to the left. Her companions doubted that this was the right way, but, nevertheless, followed her. Soon they met a girl who assured them they were, in fact on the road to Schlieren, which they reached about fifty minutes later.
Seeing a two men standing in the street, Mother approached them and asked if they knew of any houses for sale. "A catholic woman lives in this house," one of them exclaimed even before Mother had finished her sentence. "Mrs. Matthis!" he yelled toward the house where they were standing. Immediately, a middle-aged woman appeared at the window and hurried out to meet Mother. She told Mother that the house and meadow just across the street were for sale. Within a few days mother had settled a contract on the house and also received the approbation of the government. The Bishop too, gave his blessing for the beginning of St. Joseph's Home in Switzerland.
By Easter 1902, things were under way to transform the newly purchased house in Schleiren, Switzerland into a St. Joseph*s Home for children. Yet, this same Easter, Mother also received letters from Berlin telling her that many of the postulants had been convinced by the priest of the parish to leave the St. Joseph*s Home and the discontent of many of the sisters was leading to the breakdown of discipline. With the permission of Cardinal Kopp, Mother sent two sisters who had made their novitiate in Sittard to Berlin, though these Sisters were permitted to wear the habit only in the house.
After Easter, Mother employed her usual energy in completing the renovations of the house in Schlieren. On June 16, over 100 people filled the little chapel to overflowing for celebration the first Mass. Two sisters also arrived that day from England. They had come by way of Tilburg with word that there, too, many of the sisters had been convinced by the parish priest that Mother's community would never survive and were preparing to leave.
On June 18, Mother left Schlieren for Berlin. As quickly as possible, she restored order and contentment in the four communities in Berlin so that she could continue onto Tilburg in hopes of saving some of the sisters there, as well. As she was preparing her departure, however, she learned that Bishop Bonamelli of Cremona, Italy wished to celebrated Mass the next day in the Pappel-Allee.
The sight of over 100 children all dressed in white who gathered about him without fear after Mass made a deep impression on the Bishop. Mother expressed her regret at not having a house in Italy. Immediately the Bishop replied, "Come to Cremona; I hereby give you my approbation for establishing a house for boys." Mother agreed to come with some sisters at the beginning of the New Year.
The next day, Mother set out for Tilburg and arrived just in time to save one of the sisters. After staying a few weeks in Tilburg, Mother returned to England. She first called upon Msgr. S, the Vicar for Religious, to obtained permission for the novices to make their profession on November 22. Just days before the profession, however, a telegram arrived from Msgr. S: "Stop retreat- letter follows." The permission had been revoked because the constitutions had not yet been approved. For the sisters, however, it mattered little. With or without public vows fully approved by the Church they were in their hearts committed to serving God by prayer and work for the salvation of souls.
Sensing that a further obstcale lay ahead, Mother hurriedly to prepared for her departure for Cremona.
"Now go to Maldon and Fr. Verres, a German priest will help you find a house." With that Cardinal Vaughn concluded his audience with Mother Maria Teresa of St. Joseph. She went her on her way with his blessing to establish a novitiate and Motherhouse. A few days later, Mother and her ever faithful companion Sr. Maria Teresia found their way to Maldon, about two hours distance from London. Fr. Verres had already been busy looking for a house. He first showed Mother an old abbey with a villa attached to it. Mother, however, noticed four small row houses under construction across from the poor, Catholic chapel in the city. Two of them were almost finished, so Mother asked the agent to show her inside. By simply cutting doors in between to connect the houses, they would be perfect for a convent, chapel, and home for children, Mother concluded. Mother asked the agent to obtain permission from the owner to make the necessary changes and she would pick up the key at Fr. Verres rectory on March 18.
On the set date, Mother and Sr. Maria Teresia bid farewell to London and the family with whom they had boarded. They arrived at Maldon with their few possessions, and headed to the rectory to pick up the key. The key, however, was not there. The owner would not allow them to connect the four houses and therefore would not give them the key. Unperturbed, Mother went to investigate. Just as she thought, the two houses already complete were unlocked and, except for wallpaper and plumbing, ready for occupancy. "Here we are and here we stay," Mother declared and set down her suitcase.
Weeks went by and still the owner refused to let the houses be connected by inner doors. Mother longed for the Blessed Sacrament, but without an inner passageway, the Chapel could not be arranged. As the weeks turned into months, Mother could no longer hide her tears from the sisters. Finally, a neighbor informed Mother that the houses were to be put up for auction. This way she could buy them herself and refashion them however she liked. The neighbor, a contractor, offered to help with the construction as soon as the property was purchased. "No," Mother answered, "We start immediately, but you must do it secretly."
On July 2, 1901 the Chapel was dedicated. On November 22, the sisters of the second novitiate of the Carmel of the Divine Heart of Jesus were invested with their habits.
Mother Maria Teresa and her companion arrived at the Lateran Cathedral in Rome just as the Evening Prayer service was ending. Mother approached one of the servers and inquired after Don Adolpho, the chaplain of the little chapel she had just passed. The server disappeared into the sacristy and a little latter Don Adolpho appeared. Mother introduced herself and explained that she was looking for a parish where she could establish a convent for the care of little children.
"Wait a few minutes, the Cardinal is still here," replied the priest as he hurried away. A few minutes later, he returned with a message from Cardinal Satolli that he would see Mother for an audience the next day at ten o'clock.
The following day, as Mother described for him the work of the Carmel of the Divine Heart of Jesus, His Eminence was deeply impressed. He expressed his desire for Mother to establish a home for poor children in the Lateran Parish; but, he would have put the matter before the Cardinal Vicar of Rome before he could give her definite answer. When the answer came, instead of the hoped for permission, Mother was told that without a Motherhouse outside of Rome, she could not open a convent within the Roman precincts. But who would grant permission for a Motherhouse?
By this time September had arrived and most of the Cardinals and Church officials had left Rome to escape the sweltering heat. There was nothing left for Mother to do but to return to the Sisters in Cremona and wait until January. To all appearances the last five months had accomplished nothing.
In Cremona, the Sisters had found two houses for sale that could be remodeled into convents. Mother purchased one and on November 1, the Feast of All Saints Then she and the Sisters relocated their new home. Within a few weeks, the chapel was furnished and blessed. It was real joy for Mother to see the house filled with a lively crew of brown-eyed, Italian boys.
In January, Mother returned to Rome in search of approbation for a Motherhouse of the Camel of the Divine Heart of Jesus. January, February, and March passed without the slightest ray of hope. As Easter approached, Mother began a novena to St. Teresa of Jesus, as she had done the first time she came to Rome. On the third day of the novena, she visited her old friend and advisor, Msgr. Jaquemine.
"Perhaps one of the Cardinals in the dioceses surrounding Rome would grant permission for a Motherhouse," Mother suggested.
This idea struck the Monsignor. "By all means stay with Cardinal Satolli, he is interested in your work. He is Bishop of Frascati. I will speak to him myself."
