Open to Me!

We are written from Lyon:

“…Spiritism, that great bond of union among all the children of God, has opened to us such vast horizons that we can behold, from one point to another, all the scattered hearts which circumstances have placed in the East and in the West, and see them vibrate at a single call from Cárita. I still remember the deep emotion I felt when, last year, the Spiritist Review gave us an account of the impression produced in every part of Europe by a communication from this kindly Spirit. [See: Suicide prevented by Spiritism.] Surely one may say all one wishes against Spiritism: it is a proof that it is growing, for generally one does not attack small causes, but great effects. Besides, what do these attacks resemble? The anger of a child who would throw stones at the ocean to keep it from murmuring. The detractors of Spiritism scarcely suspect that, by denigrating the doctrine, they pay all the expenses of a propaganda that gives those who read it the desire to know this fearsome enemy, whose watchword is: Outside of charity there is no salvation…” This letter was accompanied by the following communication, dictated by the Spirit Cárita, the eloquent and gracious beggar whom good hearts know so well.

(Lyon, November 8, 1865.)

“It is cold, it rains, the wind blows very strongly; open to me.

“I have made a long journey through the land of misery, and I return with my heart mortified, my shoulders weighed down by the burden of every sorrow. Open to me very quickly, my beloved ones, you who know that charity knocks at your door only when it meets many unfortunate ones along its way. Open your heart to receive my confidences; open your purse to wipe away the tears of those under my care, and listen to me with that emotion which sorrow raises from your soul to your lips. Oh! you who know what God holds in reserve, and who often weep those tears of love which Christ called the dew of celestial life, open to me!… Thank you! I have entered.

“I set out this morning; I was called from every side. Suffering has so vibrant a voice that a single call is enough. My first visit was to two poor old people: husband and wife. They both lived through those long days when bread grows scarce, the sun hides itself, and work is lacking to the willing arms that call for it; they buried their misery in the home of dignity, and no one could have guessed that often the day passed without bringing its daily bread. Then age came, the limbs stiffened, the eyes grew clouded, and the master who provided work said: I have nothing more for you to do. Yet death did not come; hunger and cold are the habitual, daily visitors of the poor dwelling. How is one to answer such misery? By proclaiming it? Oh, no! There are wounds that are not healed by tearing off the covering that hides them. What soothes the heart is a word of consolation, spoken by a friendly voice that has guessed, with its soul, what was kept hidden from its eyes. For these poor ones, open to me! “And then, I saw a mother share her only piece of bread with her three little children; and since the morsel was very small, she kept nothing for herself. I saw the hearth extinguished, the wretched pallet; I saw the shivering limbs wrapped in rags; I saw the husband come home without having found work; finally, I saw the youngest child die without aid, because the father and mother are Spiritists and had to suffer humiliations from the charitable institutions.

“I saw misery in all its hideous sore; I saw hearts shrivel and dignity die out beneath the gnawing worm of the necessity of living. I saw creatures of God deny their immortal origin, because they did not understand their trial. I saw, finally, materialism grow along with misery, and in vain I cried out: Open to me! I am charity; I come to you with a heart full of tenderness; weep no more, I come to console you. But the heart of the unfortunate did not heed me: their bowels were too hungry!

“Then I drew near to you, my good friends, to you who heeded me, to you who know that Cárita asks alms for the poor, and I said to you: Open to me!

“I have just told you what I saw on my long journey, and I beseech you, have for my poor a thought, a word, a sweet remembrance, so that at night, at the hour of prayer, they may not fall asleep without thanking God, because you smiled upon them from afar. You know that the poor are the touchstone God sends to Earth to test your hearts. Do not repel them, so that one day, when you have crossed the threshold that leads to space, God may recognize you by the purity of your hearts and admit you into the dwelling of the elect!

Cárita. n It is with joy that we make ourselves the interpreters of the good Cárita, hoping that she has not said in vain: Open to me! If she knocks at the door with such insistence, it is because winter is knocking there on its own side.

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[v. Cárita.]