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During his stay in Acre he gathered together the hermits on Mount Carmel and gave them a Rule. On 14th September 1214, during a procession, he was stabbed to death by the Master of the Hospital of the Holy Spirit, whom Albert had reprimanded and deposed for his evil life.

The original statue of the Infant Jesus of Prague was created as a royal wedding gift from a Spanish princess to her Austrian cousin. The cousin then donated it to the Discalced Carmelite Friars.

I feel within me the vocation of the warrior, the priest, the apostle, the doctor, the martyr. I feel the need and desire of carrying out the most heroic deeds for you, Jesus…My desires caused me a real martyrdom, until I found Ch. 12-13 of 1st Corinthians, that we cannot all be apostles, doctors, etc….Charity gave me the key to my vocation. I understood that love comprises all vocations – that love is everything, and because it is eternal, embraces all times and places. My vocation is love…Love will descend into my nothingness and transform this nothingness into living fire.

Our Lord never asks sacrifices from us beyond our strength. At times, it is true this Divine Savior makes us feel all the bitterness of the chalice that He is offering our soul. When He asks the sacrifice of all that is precious in this world, it is impossible, without a very special grace, not to cry out like Him in the garden of agony: “Father, let this chalice pass from me – but not my will, but Your will be done.” It is very consoling to think that Jesus, the Strong God, knew our weakness, that He trembled at the sight of the bitter chalice, this chalice that He had in the past so ardently desired to drink.

Great deeds are forbidden me. I cannot preach the Gospel nor shed my blood – but what does it matter? Others toil instead of me, and I, a little child, keep close by the throne of God and I love for those who fight. Love proves itself in deeds. I will scatter flowers, perfuming the Divine Throne, and I will sweetly sing my hymn of love. These flowers are every little sacrifice, every glance and word, and the doing of the least of actions for love.