The Story of Saint Francis Himself

This is the Story of Saint Francis, the Little Poor Man of Assisi, the son of Peter Bernadone, the cloth merchant.

A merry lad was Francis, with pockets full of money which he loved to scatter far and wide among his friends and neighbours. "One would think he was a prince instead of a merchant's son," they said of him; and they spoke more truly than they knew. For Francis was to become one of the princes of God.

Yet in those days he was but a careless youth, caring rather to lead the revels than to go to Vespers, and loving the song book of the troubadour rather than the breviary of the priest, and his wish was to wear a gay coat and go forth to win glory in the wars as a knight-errant. But when the neighbours talked of his worldliness and love of song and finery, his mother, the Lady Pica, said of him:

"I will tell you how this son of mine will turn out. He will become a son of God."

Now it came to pass that during the first battle in which Francis took part, against the men of the neighbour city of Perugia, he was taken prisoner among many others and lodged in prison. And whilst in prison, seeing that all around him were very sad and heavy, he began to be merry and to laugh and sing for joy. Then they said to him: "Surely you are mad that you can be merry in prison?" And Francis answered and said: "Would you know why I am merry? It is because I know the day will come when all men will bow down to me." But they did not understand his words, neither did he at that time realise how they should one day be fulfilled.

After a time it came to pass that the prisoners of war were set free, and Francis returned to Assisi. But soon after he was struck with a sore sickness and went down to the gates of death. And it was during the slow weeks of his recovery that there first came to him the call of God. He understood it not at all - then - but wondered at the strange thoughts that troubled him, and longed for his old free life among the hills and gardens of Assisi. But when he first went forth, walking feebly and resting upon a staff, to gaze upon the beauty of the fair earth, he found that for the time it had passed away: the beauty of the fields, the delight of the vineyards and all that is fair to the eye no longer gladdened him. Wherefore he was amazed at the change that had so suddenly come upon him, and thought them most foolish who could love these things.

Now in those days there was bitter war over the isle of Sicily between the Germans and the Pope; and the brave Count Walter of Brienne was leading his army forth upon the side of the Holy Father of Christendom. So Francis, restless and eager for adventure, equipped himself in fine raiment, as became a rich merchant's son, and went forth to join the battle against the Germans. But as he rode forth in splendid array, he fell in with a knight who had fought for many years in the wars, and whose dress was worn and very shabby. Then Francis, moved by sudden impulse, leaped from his horse and gave his fine mantle and tunic and all his array to the poor knight, taking his shabby outfit in exchange.

That evening, as he rested in an inn upon the road, he slept and dreamed a sweet dream. He heard his name called: "Francis, son of Peter Bernadone, come with me whither I shall lead you."

So he followed an unknown guide till he came to a fair palace, set about with knightly arms, and in the midst sat a beautiful lady, robed as a bride. And as he gazed, wondering to whom this palace belonged, his guide said: "This is for you and all your followers. And the lady shall be your bride."

Then Francis awoke and went out into the sunlight; and as he went he sang with joy because of that dream. And when his companions asked him why he was so merry, he made answer: "Now know I for a surety that I shall become a great prince."

Then he continued on his journey.

But that night, when he went to rest, the mysterious voice again addressed him; and now he was but half asleep. And the voice questioned him and said:

"Francis, whom is it better to serve, the Lord or the servants?"

To which, wondering, he replied: "Surely it is better to serve the Lord."

"Why, then," asked the Voice, "dost thou make a lord of the servants?"

Then Francis understood, and a great light shone within his soul, so that he said very humbly:

"Lord, what dost Thou wish me to do?"

And the voice said: "Return to the land of thy birth and there it will be told thee what thou shalt do. And, perchance, thou mayst find another meaning to thy dream."

So when the morrow came, very soberly and sadly did Francis return to Assisi, and there set himself to wait till the will of the Lord was made known to him. Only did he fully understand that henceforth he was enrolled under the banner of his Captain, Jesus Christ, and that he would never serve any other lord.

There, for a time, he lived his old life, helping in his father's business, ruling the revels of the youth of the city; but all the while he was silently watching the poor, the outcast, and the lepers who thronged the gates and by-ways, so that he seemed often deep in thought. And once they asked him scoffingly: "Art thou in love, Francis, thou little son of Peter?"

And Francis answered very gravely: "Aye, in truth, I am thinking of wedding a wife more beautiful and noble than any you have seen." Then they laughed at him, not knowing that he spoke of My Lady Poverty.

- text taken from A Little Book of Saint Francis and His Brethren, by Ethel Mary Wilmot-Buxton