Then, clasping me and kissing me, He told me: “My beautiful daughter—but beautiful of My own beauty, you afflict yourself because of the things they say? Do not afflict yourself. Ask Father B., poor child of mine, how much he suffered because of Me from his superiors, from his brothers and from others, to the point of declaring him a fool, an enchanter, and of making it a duty for themselves to penalize him. And what was his crime? Love! Feeling ashamed of their lives compared to his, they waged war on him, and still do. Ah! how costly is the crime of love! Love costs Me much, and much it costs My dear children! But I love him very much, and because of what he has suffered, I have given him Myself as reward, and I dwell in him. Poor son of Mine, they don’t leave him alone; they spy on him everywhere, which they don’t do to others—to find, who knows, some matter on which to correct him and mortify him. But since I am with him, I render their arts vain. Give him courage, but—oh! how terrible will be the judgment I will make on those who dare to mistreat My dear children!”