The Story of How Saint Francis Became Poor for the Love of Christ

As the days passed by, Francis, son of Peter Bernadone, became still more grave and thoughtful, and again he watched the poor of the city, at first from afar, then ever nearer and nearer. And one evening, when he came home and found the table richly spread for a banquet he was giving to his friends, he suddenly went in and took the dishes of food and the goblets of wine and carried them out to the poor who sat at the gates. Yet all the while he loved them not, and shrank from their look and touch and smell.

Now one day he bethought himself to go on pilgrimage to the city of Rome, where is the tomb of the Apostles Peter and Paul. He took with him rich offerings of silver and gold for the shrine, but when he had laid them there, he noticed how meagre were the gifts of the wealthy pilgrims, and, turning away, he poured out the contents of his wallet full of money into the outstretched hands of Christ's little ones, the poor who lay at the doors of the Church. Then a thought of fantasy struck him, and he borrowed from one of them his worn and ragged suit of clothes, and at the gate of Saint Peter's, Francis, son of the rich merchant of Assisi, became one of the brotherhood of beggars for the day.

But his friends only laughed, and said it was one of his madcap tricks.

It was but just after his return that as he was one day riding back to the city upon his fine horse, a leper stood in his way and asked an alms. And Francis, sickening at sight of him, was about to fling him an alms and ride quickly on his way. But he could not do so, and found himself constrained to dismount, and as he put the money in the leper's hand, he bent his head and kissed it. Then, all in a moment, his heart melted within him for pity of all the poor hurt creatures in the world, and, taking the leper in his arms, he gave him the kiss of Peace.

And from that moment Francis entered within the palace that he had seen in his dream.

But he was yet to find My Lady Poverty, robed like a bride, within.

One day he was walking at eventide near the little ruined church of Saint Damian outside the city, and noting its crumbling walls and broken door. And, feeling strangely drawn to enter, he went and prayed before the altar; and it seemed to him that Christ bent down from the Cross saying:

"Francis, go and repair my house, which, as you see, is wholly a ruin."

And Francis, astonished but obedient, said: "Gladly, Lord, will I repair it" And as he spoke, his heart was filled to the brim with the Love of God, so that he felt he would gladly live and die in His service.

And so he became the squire of his Captain Christ.

Then, going home, he gathered a goodly store of cloth from his father's warehouse, and rode off to the Market Town and sold both cloth and horse, and, walking back to Assisi, gave the money to the priest of Saint Damian wherewith to rebuild his church. He begged him also to let him abide there with him, since he had no wish to return to his father's business. But, though the priest was willing that he should abide with him, he was afraid to take so much money from one whom he thought but a wild and careless youth; so he refused what Francis had brought. Then Francis flung it through a window into the church and left it there; but he abode still with the priest.

Now when Peter Bernadone heard of what Francis had done, and how he had left the business and was living with the priest, he was very wroth indeed. And, though he had always allowed his son to take what goods he wished, or had given him their worth in money, now he chose to say that he had robbed him and was acting directly against his will. So when the mother of Francis sent word to him of his father's anger, the boy went and hid himself in a cave of the hillside, where his mother sent him food; and there he lay for a whole month.

At length, however, he was filled with shame for his cowardice, and coming forth with the daylight he appeared in the streets of Assisi with face pale and wan, and his once fine clothes stained with damp and soil. And those who met him began to jeer at him, calling him "mad man," and many ill names besides. And when they found that Francis, once so spirited, heard them in silence and with downcast eyes, they took up stones and mud and flung them at him.

But his father heard the noise and came running forth from his house, and when he saw in what sorry plight stood his son, he was angrier with him for his pride's sake than before. Rushing upon him, he seized him by the tunic, dragged the boy indoors, gave him a sound flogging, and shut him up in a dark room. And when he was obliged to leave the house on business, he put chains on his hands and his feet.

Then there came to him his sweet mother, the Lady Pica, and pleaded with him that he should obey his father and return to his old way of life. But when her son had told her what was in his heart, she ceased to plead with him, and henceforth was on his side. And she freed him from his chains and sent him back to the priest of Saint Damian.

When Peter Bernadone returned, he was filled with fury and went forth from the city, thinking to drive his son back with blows and reproaches. But Francis bore both with quiet confidence; only he would not fail the call of his new Master nor return money that he had given to the Church. So Peter went first to the corporation and then to the Bishop's Court, in order that his son might be forced to return to him or to restore the money he had given to the Church.

Then was a Court held at Assisi, and the Bishop, looking not unkindly upon the boy he had known from childhood, bade Francis return to his father the money, saying: "Remember, my son, that God will Himself provide thee with what is necessary, and needs not to be succoured with goods that may not have been justly procured."

Whereupon Francis cried in his zeal: "My Lord, not only the money which belongs to him, but also the clothes that I wear, which are his, I will give back." And immediately, having handed over the money, he stripped himself of all his garments save only the hair shirt that he wore next his skin. And, turning to the people, he cried: "Hear ye all and understand. Until now I have called Peter Bernadone my father, but because I would now say 'Our Father Who art in Heaven' in place of 'our father, Peter,' I return him his money concerning which he was troubled, and all the clothes I had of him."

Then Peter was inflamed with fury and with an exceeding sorrow, and he gathered up clothes and money and left the court; but the Bishop, in compassion for the son, put his arms round him and a fold of his cloak about his bare limbs, until a rough tunic could be found for him among the servants.

And from that day did Francis go forth, no longer a rich youth, but as the Little Poor Man of Assisi, who had found the Lady Poverty and chosen her for his bride.

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