José Benlliure y Gil
This is the story of a great man, a wonderful and simple man. He died over 800 years ago, but he has never been forgotten and he never will be. Great men by the thousands have lived and died…kings and conquerors and millionaires, artists, musicians and scholars. But this man was a beggar, and he is remembered better than any of the others. And loved as none of them was ever loved.
It was not always that way with him. There was a time when his best friends touched their finger to their forehead when they mentioned his name. Children threw rocks at him. But he had set out on a high adventure, and he kept going. People stopped laughing. There was something about the way he looked at each man, something about the way he spoke. Birds flew down to perch on his shoulders as he talked, and a wolf came once to crouch at his feet. Nature lay quiet under this man’s touch, as she had done for Adam when he walked with God under the trees of Paradise, before the serpent came.
The world stood back in wonder. This little man had no money but he acted as if he were richer than a millionaire. His body was scarred and racked with pain, but he sang sweeter than any lark. He smiled as he dined with a prince; he laughed as he shared his last crust with a leper. Somehow he had learned to love everything that lived. And everything loved him. He had a secret worth knowing…and the world has been learning it from him ever since.
“The Hour of St. Francis”-1955