St. Francis of Assisi
To Whom All Things Were Kin
In a green Italian field one summer day, almost seven hundred years ago, a small man, clad in a worn, patched robe, raised his head to the sky and called to the birds flying above him. Hearing his voice, they paused in their flight and glided to earth. Birds from the trees flew down to gather at the feet of this man. They seemed to bow and nod as he spoke to them.
“My little sisters the birds, much do you receive from God your Creator, and always and in every place you ought to praise Him. He has given you freedom to go into every place, and also did preserve your seed in Noah’s ark, so that your kind might not perish from the earth. Again, you receive from Him the element of air which He has made for you.
God feeds you and gives you the rivers and the fountains to drink from; He gives you the mountains and the valleys for your refuge, and the tall trees wherein to build your nests.
And as you can neither spin nor sew, God clothes you, you and your children.
Your Creator loves you much, since He has given you so many marvelous gifts. So beware, little sisters of mine, of the sin of ingratitude, but ever strive to praise God.” When the preacher had ended his sermon, the air filed with the glorious songs of the birds.
They soared into the sky, then divided into four parts like a cross. One group flew to the north, another to the south, the third to the east, and the fourth to the west, bearing the message they had heard to the four corners of the earth. The shabby little man left the field and continued his journey.
This man had not always been such a picture of poverty. Once he had been the most elegantly dressed young mati in Assisi. His father, Pietro Bernardone, a wealthy merchant, hoped that his son Francis would also become a merchant. Francis did not object to this and started working for his father. He loved fun and was a leader of the young people at the feasts and festivals. He wasted a good deal of money on rich dress, yet he always could spare a coin to any poor beggar who crossed his path. Francis had a careless, kind heart. He was afraid of only one thing, lepers.
One day, as he rode through the countryside, he saw a figure walking toward him on the road. Suddenly he realized that the man was a leper. With a start Francis spurred his horse to avoid meeting with this fearful being. Then, a new courage filled his soul. He sprang from his horse and threw his arms about the leper.
This incident marked a change that was taking place deep within Francis’ spirit.
This man who loved gaiety and laughter and freedom so well had to spend a miserable and lonely year as a prisoner of war, and his imprisonment was followed by a period of illness. He had time to think, to become acquainted with his own soul. When he came back to the busy life of Assisi, his family and friends soon learned that Francis had turned a very important corner. Forgotten were the parties, and the beautiful clothes and the wasted hours.
There were at this time in Italy many small old churches falling into decay— people were growing worldly and selfish and had little time for the simple, sincere devotion of the early Christians. Francis went from town to town, repairing the old churches with his own money and his own labor, aided by a few friends. When his father refused to give him any more money, he and his little band lived as beggars. They even took a vow of absolute poverty, promising to own nothing, lest the love of possessions corrupt their shining purpose.
Many people laughed at Francis and his band; but he preached in the market-places, begging men to be true to their own highest natures. He touched the hearts of multitudes. Singly, by tens and by hundreds, his band grew, until 5,000 men from all walks of life - rich and poor, young and old, ignorant and learned - put on the beggarly robe and became followers of Francis. The Pope blessed the rule of life which Francis planned, and the Franciscans, as they were called, formed the Friars Minor (Little Brothers).
A lovely girl, Clare Ortolana, under his advice, organized a women’s branch of the order: these women became known as Poor Clares.
Some there were who listened to Francis and almost wanted to follow him; but they could not say farewell to their homes or their dear ones, or their duties. For such Francis suggested a rule less rigid. This membership became known as the Third Order of Saint Francis. It, too, grew and flourished.
Francis of Assisi lived from 1182 to 1226. The religious orders that he founded have since spread over the globe. They have made many contributions to the world’s knowledge and civilization. Yet it is not as rounder of the Franciscans that Francis is most widely known today. He is remembered for his love of nature. The birds were his little sisters, the sun and winds were brothers, the moon and waters were sisters, and all created things were kin. He found a joy on earth more real and lasting than men can ever know who give their hearts to possessions. The poet Emerson might have been thinking of Francis when he said:
Cheerily know, when half-gods go The gods arrive.
