A certain Father de Foresta was once preaching in one of the churches of Orleans. From the pulpit, he noticed a young woman, very sad, kneeling before the altar of Our Lady. When the devotions of the day had finished, and the congregation had returned home, she still remained kneeling, motionless, where he had first seen her. Taking her aside, he asked her to tell to him why she was so sad.

"Alas! my Father," she said in reply, "God alone can give me consolation, for He alone can change the hearts of men."

"This is indeed true, my child," the priest said; "but perhaps I, His servant, might be able to assist you in your distress. Would you tell me your troubles?"

"May God reward you, my Father," was her answer. "Know, then, that the two persons who are most dear to me in this world live as enemies with God. My father and my brother are free-thinkers, and hate everything that hints of religion. I unceasingly implore the Most Holy Mother of God to obtain for me their conversion, but I fear I am not worthy to merit this favor from her."

"You are praying for them, my child," replied the priest, "and in this you are doing well; but that is not enough: you must add something else to your prayers. Have you ever gently asked them to accompany you to the House of God, to take part with you at some splendid ceremony, or be present at Benediction of the Most Holy Sacrament?"

"O my Father, if I even dared to refer to these things it would only be the cause of greater anger."

"Believe me, my child." continued the priest; "Join this good work to your prayers, and fear not their angry words. Moreover, there is a certain manner of speaking which does not provoke irritation, and cannot give cause to displeasure. Charity can find words which dispel every feeling of animosity; and even though these words may not be kindly received at first, they will leave an impression which will produce fruit in due time."

She followed this holy advice. That same day she gathered the most beautiful flowers her little garden produced, and, having formed them into a pretty bouquet, presented them to her father, and she embraced him with more affection than ever before.

Her father, who loved his child very much, could not refrain from shedding tears as he gazed on the darling face of his child, and returned her affectionate embrace with equal love.

"No doubt, my little one, you have given me these beautiful flowers and embraced me so lovingly because you want me to give you some costly ornaments or some new clothes."

"Ah! my dearest father, you are quite right." she answered; "I do wish you to give me something, but something a thousand times more precious than what you have spoken of, and which will also give me a thousand times more pleasure. I want you this evening to come with me to Benediction."

On hearing this request, the unfortunate father grew angry towards her.

"How dare you," said he, "propose such a thing to me? Such a request is an insult which no words can describe."

Her father continued to address her in the same tone for some time, so that the whole household became alarmed, and thought that something terrible had occurred.

Her brother quickly entered the room, and when he found out what had happened—that his sister had the audacity to ask their father to come with her to Benediction—he became so angry that he struck her on the face.

"Julian, my brother," she said calmly, in answer to his outburst, "you may strike me again, and as often as you please, but you will never keep me from doing all that is in my power to save two souls who are more dear to me than anything in this world."

This gentle and patient response from one who loved them so much, touched her father and brother to the heart. Grace and love conquered, and without further hesitation they consented to accompany her to Benediction.

From that moment a change came over them for the better. Two months later they went to the sacrament of Confession, became reconciled to God, and ever afterwards led good Christian lives.