Why does prayer sometimes feel like hard work, while at other times the words seem to give way to a quiet awareness of God? Saint Teresa of Ávila explored that question through a garden and four ways of watering it. Her image can help us understand both our effort and God's initiative without treating prayer as a test we must pass.
With her October 15 memorial approaching, this is a good time to meet Teresa as a teacher of prayer. The USCCB's 2026 liturgical calendar lists her as Saint Teresa of Jesus, Virgin and Doctor of the Church.
Where does Teresa's image come from?
The four waters appear in Teresa's autobiography, commonly called the Life, rather than in the seven-mansions structure of her later Interior Castle. In chapter 11, she compares the soul to a garden where virtues can grow. She describes watering it by drawing from a well, using a waterwheel, directing a stream, and receiving rain.
These are images for different experiences of prayer, not four exercises to complete in order. The gardener works, but the garden belongs to the Lord.
The first water: drawing from a well
Drawing water by hand takes repeated effort. Teresa uses this image for prayer in which we actively gather our attention, reflect, and turn toward Christ. Even that beginning depends on grace. When prayer feels dry, she urges perseverance rather than abandoning the garden; its growth need not be immediately visible. See Life, chapter 11, especially sections 13–17.
For a reader today, this can make an ordinary prayer time feel less discouraging. Reading a Gospel passage slowly, speaking honestly to Jesus, and returning after a distraction can all belong to faithful prayer. You do not have to produce a moving experience before those minutes count.
The second water: the waterwheel and prayer of quiet
A wheel with buckets brings more water with less labor. In chapter 14, Teresa associates this image with the prayer of quiet. God draws the will into loving attention to him, while the memory and understanding may still wander. She describes something God gives, beyond what effort alone can achieve.
That distinction matters. Feeling relaxed after sitting in a peaceful room is pleasant, but relaxation by itself does not establish that you are experiencing the prayer of quiet. Nor does a wandering thought automatically tell you that everything has gone wrong. Teresa's account makes room for God's action even when the mind is not perfectly tidy.
If a moment of loving attention comes, there is no need to turn it into an achievement or immediately analyze it. Gratitude is a better response than trying to reproduce the same feeling tomorrow.
The third water: a stream reaching the garden
A stream waters the soil with much less work, although the gardener still helps direct it. Teresa uses this image in chapter 16 for a more absorbing experience of prayer. The soul's powers are deeply occupied with God, yet they are not completely suspended. Her language about their sleep describes this inward condition; it is not an instruction to fall asleep or induce an altered state.
Teresa herself admits how difficult the experience is to explain. We can therefore read her with patience rather than expecting every image to fit a neat modern chart. Her account invites wonder at God's generosity. It does not give us a method for making an unusual experience happen.
The fourth water: rain given by God
Rain thoroughly waters the garden without the gardener drawing it up. In chapter 18, Teresa describes this fourth water in terms of union, in which God draws the soul's faculties into an absorption they cannot produce themselves. She also says that this heavenly water may arrive unexpectedly, and that the gardener must use another way of watering when it is absent.
The practical implication is reassuring: we need not stop ordinary prayer while waiting for extraordinary prayer. A gift cannot be scheduled. Returning to a psalm, a familiar prayer, or a simple conversation with Christ is not a defeat.
What should you take from the four waters?
The first lesson is to keep showing up. A garden is not cared for only on days when the weather is beautiful. Choose a modest prayer time that fits your actual life, and return to it without constantly checking whether it feels impressive.
The second is to keep Jesus at the center. Benedict XVI's teaching on Teresa emphasizes her understanding of prayer as friendship with God, the importance of Christ's humanity, and the virtues that accompany prayer. Those include love for others, humility, and perseverance. Experiences make sense within that relationship and its fruits.
For example, after prayer, you might notice one person you need to listen to more patiently or one duty you have been avoiding. Acting on that awareness gives your prayer a concrete place in the rest of the day. The four waters are much less helpful if they become a reason to compare yourself with someone else.
A simple way to start reading Teresa
Begin with chapter 11 of the Life, taking one or two numbered sections at a time. Write down what Teresa says about perseverance before moving to the later descriptions. As you read chapters 14, 16, and 18, keep asking who is acting: what does the gardener do, and what does God give?
Then close the book and spend a few minutes with Christ. This reading suggestion is an invitation, not a rule Teresa prescribed. If the language is unfamiliar, a parish priest, Carmelite community, or experienced spiritual director may help you read it in context.
You can explore her life through our Saint Teresa of Ávila profile. If your immediate concern is simply staying with prayer when your thoughts wander, our guide to distractions during prayer offers a practical companion.
Teresa's garden gives us room to work faithfully and receive freely. Today, that may mean drawing one small bucket of water: a few honest minutes with Jesus, followed by one act of love.
Cover artwork: Juan de la Miseria's portrait of Saint Teresa, 1576; public domain. Artwork source and rights information.
