In the magnificent gardens of heaven, Mariam, whose soul was marked with the tenderness of Christ’s Passion, sat in prayer at one end of the garden, her thoughts centred on her beloved Lord.

Her troubled childhood, an assassination attempt for not converting to Islam, and her perilous flight from danger were now distant memories. Nearby, St. Thérèse, the ‘Little Flower’ wove a garland of roses, humming softly, her face radiant with childlike joy.

Miriam, drawn by the sweet fragrance of roses and the familiarity of the Discalced Carmelite habit, approached with quiet reverence.  ‘Excuse me, are you St. Thérèse?’

Thérèse looked up with a warm smile. ‘Oui, c’est moi! And you are St Mary of Jesus Crucified, the Little Arab who shared in the deepest sufferings of Christ?’

Mariam nodded, her eyes reflecting a lifetime of faith and endurance. ‘Please call me Mariam. Yes, I suppose that’s true. His pain became mine, and in that suffering, I found Him.’ She glanced at her hands, once graced with the stigmata, then looked back at Thérèse. ‘I’ve always been fascinated by your “Little Way.” You found holiness in the smallest things, didn’t you?’

Thérèse clasped her hands together, her face radiant with joy. ‘Ah, oui! I believed that great love is found in small acts. I never wished for grand gestures, only to love God in the ordinary – in the humble things. I knew if I loved Him with my whole heart, even in the tiniest tasks, He would be pleased.’

Mariam’s heart warmed. ‘That’s beautiful. It reminds me of how I found love in suffering. Not that I sought it, but through the cross, I encountered Jesus. Pain became my teacher, and through my wounds, I discovered peace. Not as the world gives, but the kind that comes only from surrendering everything to Him.’

Thérèse nodded. ‘Your love was so deep, Mariam. You truly gave everything to Him through your suffering. And you often called yourself ‘the little nothing.’

Mariam smiled wistfully. ‘Yes, I did, and I still am a “little nothing”. Suffering is sewn into the landscape of Palestine, and it continues to this day. The suffering of my homeland feels like a shadow, growing ever darker and vast.’

For a moment, Thérèse reflected deeply on the weight of the conflict. ‘Yes! When Pope Francis canonised you in 2015, he recognised that your life of suffering led to peace, and you could be an intercessor of hope.’

‘An intercessor for hope?’, repeated Mariam, her dark brown eyes fixed intently on Therese.

‘Oui,’ replied Therese enthusiastically. ‘As Pope Francis said in the Jubilee Year of Hope he proclaimed, “Hope is the light that illuminates the darkness of suffering, guiding us toward peace and trust in God’s loving providence.”’ 

‘I see it now. You, with your “Little Way,” and me with my…’  Mariam laughed, ‘my “Intense Way.” It’s almost as if we were both trying to get to the same place by taking different roads.’

Thérèse grinned. ‘How our Eternal Father turns our plans upside down. The little French girl who wanted to become a missionary but never left her cloister and the little Arab girl who had to fight her way into the cloister but ended up becoming a missionary from France to India and back to Palestine! You climbed the mountain of suffering, and I… well, I stayed at the foot of it, picking flowers along the way.’

She twirled a rose petal in her fingers. ‘But I think we both learned the same lesson; that peace and joy do not come from the way of the world but from surrendering everything to Jesus, in whatever way He asks. And where there is life, there is hope, no matter whatever the circumstances!’

Mariam nodded. ‘Strange when you think about it. We might have seemed very different on earth, as members of the same Order, but now, I see how perfectly our lives complemented each other.  Your “little way” and “my little way” can lead to God.’

Thérèse’s eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘And I think we both showed the world that we don’t have to be perfect to be holy! I was just a little girl with simple trust, and you… well, you were a “mystic of the cross.” I think we covered all the bases, didn’t we?’

Just then, familiar laughter interrupted them. They turned to see Jesus and St. Paul nearby, clearly eavesdropping.

‘Look at the pair of them!’ He remarked to St. Paul.  Two Discalced Carmelite sisters still talking about love and peace from opposite ends of the spectrum! There’s hope for us yet!”

Jesus stepped forward, shaking His head with an affectionate smile. ‘You two never stop, do you?’ He motioned for them to join Him. ‘But you know, you’re both right. Love and suffering are just two sides of the same coin when given to Me.’

Paul crossed his arms with a grin. ‘I did try to tell everyone that, you know. ‘Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, and persevere in prayer’ (Romans 12:12). But you two have made it look far more poetic.’

Thérèse giggled. ‘Well, we had to add a little charm, Paul because your letters can be quite… intense!’

Mariam grinned. ‘Says the girl who turned a convent into a field of roses.’

Jesus laughs quietly, sitting down on the grass. ‘Exactly why I love you both. You each had your own way, but in the end, they were both My way.’

His expression grew tender. ‘Now, I have a favour to ask. The world is in need of hope. Will you help Me?’

Mariam and Thérèse exchanged glances, then turned back to Jesus with a knowing smile.

‘Well,’ Thérèse said, stretching her hands toward her garland of roses, ‘I suppose I could spare a few petals.’

Mariam nodded. ‘And I could share a few lessons from the cross.’

Jesus beamed. ‘That’s the spirit! Go, then. Spread peace, joy, and especially hope. And remind everyone that no path is too small or too difficult when it leads to Me.’

And with that, the Little Flower and the Little Arab became pilgrims of hope — each offering their own unique ‘little way’; one through the simplicity of a flower, and the other through the depth of the cross. Whether the highway or the byway, every road that leads to God is the best way!