Living the Little Way: Bringing St. Thérèse’s Wisdom into Daily Life

Today is the Feast Day of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, a saint who has been important to me since I was a small child wishing that she — so young and pretty, surrounded by roses in nearly every depiction of her — was the saint I was named after, rather than “the other St. Teresa,” as I thought of her. While I’ve long since come to appreciate the many wonderful qualities of St. Teresa of Avila (whose feast is also celebrated in October), I do continue to have a special fondness for St. Thérèse of Lisieux. 

And I know I’m not alone in my appreciation. St. Thérèse, with her relatable spirituality and achievable example, speaks to Catholics young and old and in all walks of life. 

Take this example for instance: my oldest daughter came home from Kindergarten last year and told me that her class had chosen St. Thérèse as their patron saint. She went on to recite for me their prayer to St. Thérèse, to which my eyes misted up promptly, as I was filled with gratitude for both my daughter’s wonderful teacher (facilitating memorization with kindergarteners!), and the person of St. Thérèse, whose life and work have inspired my 6-year-old and her classmates to be holy in their own little ways. 

On that note, I think it’s worth considering how we, as adults, can bring the wisdom of St. Thérèse into our daily lives. St. Thérèse’s spirituality is known as “the little way,” and it emphasizes doing ordinary things with extraordinary love, for both God and our neighbors. It teaches that holiness is achieved not only through grand gestures but also through simple acts of caring and sacrifice. 

Here are some thoughts on how that might look in the life of a 21st century woman. 

Curb Complaining


Most people complain about something. Maybe it’s the pain in your lower back that never quite seems to go away. Maybe it’s the weather, be it the heat, the cold, or the untimely precipitation. Maybe it’s the fact that your two-year-old thinks that five o’clock in the morning is an appropriate waking hour. In my case, I complain about the complaining. Sometimes I just cannot with the whining. I’ve also been known to complain about clutter, the price of fresh produce, and the behavior of colleagues on Zoom calls. 

As justified as any of this complaining may feel — because, yeah, the early mornings are exhausting and the protestation to picking up toys that were played with by no one but the complaining child is annoying — it’s in opposition to St. Thérèse’s little way. 

In her spiritual autobiography, Story of Soul, St. Thérèse writes: “Do not imagine that love can be found without suffering, for we carry with us our human nature.” 

In other words, if we are going to love, we are going to suffer. If we are going to act as loving agents in the world — which I believe is what Christ calls all of us to do — aches and pains and aggravations and petty grievances will be a regular aspect of our existence. The fodder for complaining will be there. While this may initially seem demoralizing, I find it to be a freeing realization. It normalizes suffering, and as it does so, it manages my expectations about day to day life. 

I heard on a podcast recently an analysis of complaining that I found interesting. Dr. Rangan Chatterjee described complaining as sign of a distorted view of reality. We complain about the 90 degree weather because we want it to be 75 degrees; we complain about the child waking up at 5 a.m. because we expect them to get up at 7. Dr. Chatterjee suggested that if we can adjust our expectations to be more aligned with reality (sure we want balmy and not blistering temperatures, but if we live in continental climate, we’re going to have sweltering days), we won’t be so surprised and perturbed by the discomforts that lead us to complain. 

St. Thérèse, with her understanding that suffering necessarily accompanies love, reminds us that suffering is to be expected. If we expect it, we’re more likely and able to curb our complaining about it. 

Look for Opportunities to Ease the Burdens of Others


I think that the heart of St. Thérèse's little way can be summarized by these words from Story of a Soul: “Miss no single opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word; always doing the smallest right and doing it all for love.” 

To get nitty-gritty practical with this quote, here are give ways that I think that can look:

  • Invite the kids of a neighbor over to play to give that mom a free hour or two
  • Ask a teacher acquaintance one thing she needs for her classroom and then go get it
  • If you notice garbage floating around the park pavilion, pick it up and throw it away
  • Tell a co-worker in specific terms why you appreciate them
  • Do a household task that your spouse ordinarily completes 

Change your Inner Dialogue 


There’s a story that St. Thérèse tells in Story of a Soul about the aggravation she felt when seated in front of a fellow sister during evening prayers, a sister who had the annoying habit of clicking her teeth together in a particular way. In St. Thérèse’s words, “it would be impossible for me to tell you how much this little noise wearied me.”

I think most of us could relate to this, no?

St. Thérèse goes on to write that she tried to ignore the sound, tried to remain calm, and tried to focus on her union with God, but none of it worked. And so she tried something else. 

I searched for a way of [listening to the noise] without annoyance and with peace and joy, at least in the interior of my soul. I tried to love the little noise which was so displeasing; instead of trying not to hear it (impossible), I paid close attention so as to hear it well, as though it were a delightful concert, and my prayer (which was not the Prayer of Quiet) was spent offering this concert to Jesus.

In other words, St. Thérèse reframed the way that she thought about the noise; she changed her inner dialogue about it. I can think of numerous places in my life where this strategy would serve me well, but an overarching example would be to shift my sense of overwhelm to one of gratitude. “I have so much laundry to fold…how lucky I am that I have kids who need me to wash their clothes; I have so many clients on my caseload… how lucky I am to have a job that I love.” 

To be clear: I don’t think that St. Thérèse’s little way is easy. Curbing complaining, easing the burdens of others, and changing my inner dialogue will take sacrifice and practice and there will be plenty of times when I just won’t feel like it. But what I like about the little way is that, hard as it may be, it’s also readily available to us. In any given hour, let alone day, there are countless opportunities to do little things with great love. Why not start right now?



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