For my weekly writing spot on this site, see the One-Minute Mystic, with a new meditation posted every Monday. Also see The Village, the story of Misty Longings, England's most beautiful village, posted episode by episode earlier this year.       "She was on a bed of thorns, torn and tortured by excruciating pain and long agony," writes a fan of the lady. "She was longing to suffer even more for her own sanctification and that of the world." And that really is the life story of St Alphonsa, 1910-1946, India's first woman saint of Indian origin – and canonised on October 12th this year. Given recent Hindu violence against Christians, the news of St. Alphonsa has no doubt come at a good time for the faithful of that land. But if her canonisation bought great joy to others, her life brought little to her. Indeed, any biographer will need a medical dictionary close at hand, to understand the full extent of her suffering. Eczema, haemorrhages, pneumonia, amnesia, stomach problems and vomiting were just a few of the plagues that left St Alphonsa almost constantly "on a bed of thorns." Other pain was self-inflicted. At the age of thirteen, her aunt, who had bought her up, wanted only one thing for the girl – marriage. But the girl didn't, and as the threat of wedlock grew, savage action was taken. She deliberately stuck both her feet in burning embers, leaving them permanently deformed. By this act, she both rendered herself less attractive to suitors – and made it quite clear she did not share her aunt's ambitions for her life. St Alphonsa wished only to take her vows in the Franciscan Clarist Congregation; and in 1936, her wish was granted, and she took up a post in their elementary school. Born Annakkutty – Little Anna – her short stretch on earth seems entirely defined by suffering. In a letter to her spiritual director – not a job for the faint hearted – she describes her life as "a sacrifice of suffering." Having lost her mother when young, she eventually became a teacher, but displayed a poor attendance record – frequently off sick and unable to teach. Whether this prompted dark mutterings amongst fellow staff, we don't know. But at her beatification in 1986, Pope John Paul II spoke not only of her physical suffering, but also of "the spiritual suffering of being both misjudged and misunderstood by others." Does this explain why her funeral was only thinly attended? Covering other people's classes constantly can cause irritation. So is this sainthood all about the suffering? It seems so. The present Pope attempts a positive spin, saying said that Christ made her perfect through her agonies, but there is little human evidence for this. Beyond the ambivalent virtues of "patience, fortitude and perseverance" – which so often mask a brutalised psychology – St Alphonsa does not appear to have been someone eagerly sought out by others. She was too busy suffering. In death she acquired a following – when school children started reporting healing miracles at her grave. Wonderful. But I like my saints to intrigue in life as well as death. Perhaps, though, the church just looked at her parents and took a sacred punt. Annakkrutty Muttathupadathu was born in Kudamaloor in Kerala State to – wait for it – Joseph and Mary. More writings © Simon Parke