With the age of more or less 24 years, after a voyage to Rome where I celebrated the classic art, I stopped 8 days into Firrenze, lodged by an Italian comrade, without a penny in advance. I learned there how to fast but I visited the city from top to bottom. In front of the Annunciation painting of the St Marc convent , in top of a staircase, believed to be by FRA Angelico I felt a strange emotion, but that remained about it there. On my return, as I had get into the habit of doing it, I was going to celebrate my gods into the museum of the Louvre in Paris. An incredible thing occurred then. I was in contemplation in front of the Virgin with Rabbit of Titien, when abruptly like an incredible earthquake , all the features of the brush of the Master appeared to me with their faults and their hesitations. It was not any more for me than an enormous doodle. All my religion of arts broke down suddenly. Completely stupefied, I left the museum. Going back into my studio where I lived then, raising the eyes to the top of the veranda, I then turned my glance towards God and simply this word I tell Him: "Father". At once I was as raised up out of ground in a superhuman extase in the medium of a joy which cannot talk about. I cannot also say how long that lasted but when I was deposited again on ground abruptly all the forces of the hell seemed to break out against me, willing made believe that I was damned because of all my last life. This affliction lasted three years during which I was unable to make anything meanwhile, thrown into a panic, my parents trailed me from private clinic to private clinic. For me, I started to pray some little and in the medium of intense sufferings, understood however that they were invaluable spiritual graces there, without having the idea to draw me nearer to a precise religious activity. Unexpected cure. The doctors of the time who had moreover made me suffer from treatment incredible , had irremediably condemned myself. At the end of three years, passing in front of a bookshop, I see in the window a book entitled "a Call to the Love" of Josefa Menendez. I did not know what was the matter, if it were a novel or anything of other, but I were turned over internally as by a ground swell. I entered the shop while crying, bought the book and read'off. From this moment there I abruptly got back on my feet towards a normal state. Estimating that it was my duty to work with the restoration of the Churches destroyed by the war, I became workman-sculptor of the historic buildings while I meditated actively on the religion in the medium of the spiritual graces the most surprising and unexpected.

mission,  children,  catholicity,  to obey,  was, meditated, fled, charismas, fervently, two problems