Saint Francis

  The peasants were beside themselves. They charged forward to touch the holy infant, but suddenly the blue radiance vanished, darkness spread over the manger, and no one saw Francis any longer. He had fled, taking the infant with him.

  The peasants rushed outside with their torches and scattered throughout the wood. They searched and searched, but he was nowhere to be found. The heavens had begun to glow bluish white; the Morning Star, solitary in the eastern sky, gleamed and danced. The day had begun.

  I found Francis outside his hut, kneeling, his face turned toward Bethlehem.

  When I saw him the next day I was terrified. What I beheld was no longer a body; it was a pile of bones covered by a tattered frock. His lips were blue with cold.

  "Father Francis," I said to him, kissing his hand, "let me gather some wood and light a fire for you."

  He answered, "Go, Brother Leo, go throughout the world, and if you find a fire in every hut, every poor cottage, then come back and light one in my hearth. If even a single man in the world is shivering, I must shiver with him."

  With the passage of time his wounds grew increasingly more painful. I often saw him doubled over, contorting his mouth in an effort to withstand the agony. He used to raise his head and glance at me, the same expression of beatitude always on his face.

  "He's suffering," he would say to me, "he's suffering. . . ."

  "Who?"

  "Him!" And he would indicate his own breast, and hands, and feet.

  One night, however, when a wood mouse slipped through the dilapidated door of the hut and began to lick Francis' bloody feet and then to bite them, he awoke with a start, and I heard him say ever so softly, as though he had been speaking to a child, "Brother Mouse, I am suffering! For the love of God, go away! I am suffering!"

  One morning I found him shivering on his mat. He was completely naked.

  "It's terribly cold, Father Francis," I cried. "Why did you get undressed?"

  "I thought of my shivering brothers throughout the world," he said, his teeth chattering. "I am unable to warm them; therefore I decided to join them in being cold."

  The next day he said to me, "I wonder what's happening to the friars who went out to preach. They've been on my mind day and night. A mouse, one of our many brothers in the woods, came last night and diverted my thoughts for a moment, but he was a good mouse, and when I asked him to go away, he did. Now I sit here waiting. Waiting for what? For someone to come and bring me news."

  The words were scarcely out of his mouth when lo! There was Juniper on the threshold, barefooted, covered with bruises, exultant. He was one of the na�vest and most beloved of our brotherhood, and during our first, heroic years he had often made us laugh with his jokes. One time, a brother who had fallen ill babbled in his delirium, "Oh, if I only had a pig's foot!" When Juniper heard this he raced at once to the forest, found a pig feeding on acorns, and cut off its foot; then, returning to the Portiuncula, he roasted the foot and gave it to the sick man to eat. Francis learned of this. "Don't you know you're not supposed to touch things that belong to other people?" he scolded him. "Why did you do it?"

  "Because this pig's foot helped our brother. I wouldn't feel the slightest burden on my soul even if I had cut the feet off a hundred pigs."

  "But the poor pig-keeper is weeping and wailing. He's searching all over the forest for the culprit."

  "In that case, Brother Francis, I'll go of my own accord and find him. You can rest assured that we'll soon be the best of friends."

  Running to the forest, he found the man and embraced him. "My brother," he said, "I'm the one who caught your pig and cut off its foot. Before you get angry, listen to me. God sent pigs into the world so that men could eat them. Someone I know fell ill and kept shrieking that he would never be cured unless he could eat a pig's foot. I felt sorry for the man, so I quickly brought the foot to him and roasted it. As soon as he ate it he got well, and now he's praying for the soul of the pig's owner and interceding with God for the forgiveness of his sins. Don't feel angry, therefore, but let us embrace: we are all brothers, all God's children. You did something pleasing to God--congratulations!--and I helped you do it. Come, kiss me!" The peasant, who at first had been white-hot with rage, found that his anger had subsided gradually, and now he fell into Juniper's arms and kissed him. "I forgive you," he said. "But for the love of God, don't do it again!"

  When Francis heard Juniper relate his exchange with the pig-keeper, he laughed with all his heart. "What a pity," he exclaimed, "that we do not have a whole forest of Junipers like this one!"

  Juniper wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He must have had an important message for us, because his tiny eyes were sparkling. Keeping them fixed upon us, he began:

  "I've just come from Rimini, Father Francis. What I saw and endured on my way there is almost impossible to describe. Apparently the villagers mistook me for you, because they ran--men and women alike--and crowded around me, stepping all over one another in their wild efforts to kiss my hand. They brought me the sick to be healed, but how could I heal them? I put my hand on their heads just as you do, but my thoughts were always on something else: namely, how to escape from the bellowing mob that was shouting 'Long live the Saint!' and pressing all about me, trying to kiss my feet. Well, one day I had a brilliant idea, and what do you think it was? As I was nearing a village just outside Rimini I learned that the multitude had set out again to receive me. So, what did I do? There were two laughing children nearby who were seesawing, one on each end of a plank they had laid across another plank. I ran to them at once and said, 'Children, I want to play too. Here, both of you sit on one end and I'll sit alone on the other and swing you up and down.' So, the three of us began to seesaw endlessly up and down, bursting with laughter. At this point the pilgrims arrived, headed by the priest holding the aspergillum in one hand and the Gospels bound in silver in the other. When they saw me playing and laughing, their expressions fell. They waited patiently for me to finish my game so that I could bless them and also heal several sick villagers they had brought with them. They waited and waited, but do you think I stopped seesawing--not on your life! 'This man isn't a saint, he's a lunatic,' they howled in a rage. 'Come, let's go!' So they went, which was just what I wanted them to do. I got off the seesaw immediately and continued on my way to Rimini."

  Francis laughed. "You have my blessing, Brother Juniper," he said. "I'd rather we be taken for lunatics than for saints. That is the true meaning of holy Humility."

  "And what did you do at Rimini, Brother Juniper?" I asked. "I imagine you still must have a great deal to tell us."

  "Yes, a great deal, a great deal, my brother. A glorious miracle! I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. You recall a pale novice we once had at the Portiuncula, don't you--a boy named Antonio? Well, God forgive me for saying this, but that novice has become a saint. Yes, yes, a saint! And he performs miracles! Do you remember how you preached one day to the birds, Father Francis? At Rimini he preached in exactly the same way to the fish. Don't laugh: I saw it with my own eyes. Antonio stood just where the river flows into the sea. You wouldn't have recognized him. He's grown taller and slimmer; his cheeks have become hollowed; his eyes are two black holes, making people mistake him for a blind man. And his hands! Lord Almighty, never in my life have I seen such long, slender, quick-moving fingers. He was holding a staff at the time, and his fingers encircled it twice! He stood, as I said, where the river flows into the sea, and behind him was a great crowd, heretics for the most part whom Antonio had often addressed in vain, saying, 'Follow me down to the shore and you shall see that the God I preach is the only true God. You shall see with your own eyes, and you shall believe.'

  "Well, on this day they did follow him, and I went with them. Antonio leaned over, wet his fingers in the ocean, and made the sign of the cross. Then he waded into the water up to his knees and cried out in a loud voice, 'Brother Fishes of sea and river, I adjure you in the name of our he
avenly Father to come and hear the word of the true God!'

  "The moment he said these words, the sea grew turbulent, the river swelled, and the fish began to assemble.

  Some came from far away; others rose from the bottom: every kind of fish--perch, sea bass, dentexes, black-fish, sole, sharks, flying fish, swordfish, gray mullet, red mullets, sea scorpions, sea bream, giltheads. Regional fish, surf fish, predatory fish--how can I recall so many! The river stopped flowing, the ocean stood motionless, and the fish lined up, the small ones in front, the medium ones behind them, and the larger species further back in deep water, all with their heads raised above the surface so that they could hear. When all were in place, Antonio extended his hand and blessed them, then immediately began to preach in a loud voice: 'Brother Fish, I called you so that we could glorify our heavenly Father together. What joy He gave you, what gifts, what wealth! Water is a thrice-noble element--cool, clean, clear. When the sun shines and the sea is calm you rise to the surface and frolic in the spray; when a storm breaks out, you descend to the bottom where there is motionless calm, and you are happy. What suppleness, what colors, what beauty God gave you, Brother Fishes! When the great flood took place and all the animals of the land drowned, only you swam calmly and securely in the swollen waters. And when the prophet Jonah fell into the sea, you provided him with a shelter and three days later you brought him back to the land. You are the water's brightest ornament. God loves you exceedingly and does not wish your race to die out. With the thousands and thousands of eggs that you lay, you are immortal. Lift your heads and give thanks to God. You have my blessing. . . . And now go, and the Lord be with you.'

  "The fish opened their mouths and moved their lips. Perhaps they were singing a psalm, but I was unable to hear. Raising their tails happily in the air, they all left, churning up the ocean and river until both were white with spray. The terrified people fell at Antonio's feet. 'Forgive us, Brother Antonio,' they cried. 'You are right. The very fish listened to your voice; how then can we, we who are human beings, not listen to it? Step in front and lead us!' Antonio stepped out in front, therefore, and led us all joyfully back to Rimini, where we entered the cathedral and began to glorify the Lord."

  This speech had caused Juniper to break out into a sweat. His whole body gleamed and flashed like that of a fish which has just been taken from the sea.

  Francis raised his hand. He was extremely moved.

  "All glory to God's name. I am dying; another is being born. God's seed upon the earth is immortal. I am exhausted, useless; my sight has grown dim; I am the setting sun. He is young, full of strength, joy, and fire; he is the rising sun. You must all salute him."

  He waved his hand in the direction of Rimini.

  "Welcome, Brother Antonio. I give my blessing and wish that you may attain the heights I was unable to attain."

  We remained silent. I closed my eyes and saw one sun setting, another rising. A mixture of sadness and bliss flooded my heart. Opening my eyes again, I gazed at Francis with inexpressible tenderness. He was rapt in ecstasy, his head between his knees, and neither saw nor heard anything that was happening around him. He had left us.

  Juniper winked at me.

  "I'll go get some wood and light a fire," he said, leaning over to my ear.

  "He doesn't want any, Brother Juniper. These last days he doesn't want his body to be warm. If you make a fire, he'll scold us."

  "Let him. By that time he'll have warmed his bones."

  As soon as he finished saying this he dashed outside and returned in a little while with an armful of wood which he arranged in the fireplace and lit. Francis remained submerged in profound beatitude, not hearing or seeing anything. The flames leapt up; the hut glowed with the reflections. I approached the hearth avidly and turned first my back, then my abdomen to the fire. After that I held out my hands, my feet, until my body was completely warm and my bones were soothed to the very marrow. Next, Juniper and I sat down in front of the fire and laughed surreptitiously. We were fully content, but we did not forget to throw a glance at Francis every now and then to see if by any chance he had felt the warmth and was getting up to scold us.

  "You ought to use a little compulsion, Brother Leo," Juniper advised me. "Force him to eat. Pretend you don't understand, and light the fire at night when he's asleep. Mend his frock when he's not looking. Don't let him die. Didn't it ever occur to you that we'll never be able to find such a guide again, a guide who can lead us straight to heaven?"

  "I can't, Brother Juniper. He won't allow it I freeze and starve along with him." "I admire you for sharing such a hard life, Brother Leo. It's beyond human strength. How can you do it?"

  "I can't, Brother Juniper. I do more than I can, but it's out of pride. Not piety, pride. I'm ashamed at this point to turn back."

  "Ashamed before whom?"

  "Everyone: God, Francis, the people around me, and also myself."

  "Don't you feel like eating a good meal now and then--on holidays, for example; or like drinking a sip of wine, or sleeping on a soft mattress? God, as you know, made all those things for man, and it's a sin not to accept them. As for me (why not speak frankly?) I live comfortably enough, glory be to God, and therefore each time I pray and give thanks to the Almighty my prayer issues not only from my heart, but also from my stomach, my warm hands and feet, my entire body. The whole secret is this, Brother Leo: to combine what's good with what's best for your own interests."

  I smiled.

  "Woe to us if you were our leader, Brother Juniper. We'd all end up well nourished--in hell!"

  Juniper was opening his mouth to reply, but just then we heard Francis shift his position. We held our breath, our hearts thumping. Francis turned.

  "What's this?" he cried as soon as he saw the fire. "Who lighted a fire? Bring water at once and put it out!"

  "Father Francis, apostle of Love," said Juniper, embracing Francis' knees, "fire is our sister: why do you want to kill her? Don't you pity her, you who feel pity for the very ground you walk on? She too is God's daughter, and she wants to help us--that's why she came and seated herself in the hearth. Listen to how she cries. Don't you hear? 'Brother Francis,' she says, 'I too am one of God's creatures. Do not kill me!' "

  Francis remained silent. Juniper's words had penetrated to his heart.

  "Brother Juniper, you old swindler," he said finally with a laugh, "you've come to set us topsy-turvy with your pious jugglery."

  He turned to the hearth.

  "Sister Fire, forgive me. I shall not chase you from my hut; instead, I request you to come again."

  When he had said this, he went to the doorway, as far as possible from the fire, and sat down.

  Early the next morning Francis pushed me with his foot.

  "Get up, Brother Leo. This hut is too warm; we're too comfortable here. Come, let's go to San Damiano's. Outside the convent there's a shelter made of branches; that is where I want to stay. But what about you? Will you be able to endure it? Take stock of your forces, Brother Leo. You can leave at any time; you can escape. Forgive me, little lion of God, for tormenting you so very much."

  Yes, it was true that he tormented me, but he did so because his love for me was so very great.

  "Wherever you go, I go too, Father Francis," I cried, jumping to my feet. "I've burned my bridges behind me; I can't turn back now."

  "Well then, let's be off, Brother Leo. I have burned my bridges also. There is no turning back! Put your arm around my waist to keep me from falling. It's still not very light out."

  The cold was biting, the sky dark blue; the entire swarm of stars had already been drowned in the tenuous morning brightness. Only Venus, still indestructible, happily awaited the sun so that it could vanish within its rays. The birds had not begun to chirp yet, but in the distance we heard a cock crow.

  "The birds must go hungry in wintertime," I said. "That's why they don't sing. Could it be that men are just the same, Brother Francis? Could it be that we have to eat in order to
have food to transform into prayer and song?"

  Francis smiled.

  "Your mind is constantly on food, Brother Leo. Everything you say is correct for those who do not believe in God. But for those who do, the opposite is the case: prayer, for them, is transformed into food, and their stomachs are filled." The light increased as we were talking, the eastern sky turned rose, and the moment we stepped beneath a densely needled pine tree a songbird, feeling a glint fall upon its closed eyelids, awoke and began to twitter.

  "Good morning, Sister Skylark!" cried Francis. "We are on our way to San Damiano's. Come, join us!"

  The lark darted out from among the branches, shook her wings to rid them of their numbness, and all of a sudden flew up into the sky, singing merrily.

  "The sky is her San Damiano's," said Francis. "Goodbye until we meet again!"

  When we reached the convent we found the nuns still at matins. The lamps inside the church were burning. Advancing on tiptoe, we went to the little window of the sanctuary and stood outside to hear the high feminine voices warbling to the Lord.