The house of the Friars minor was a small hut of mud close to Messina. A small handkerchief of cultivated land surrounded the hut. The winter was coming to an end, the sun was starting to burn intensely. Friar Ippolito, left at home so that he could prepare the meal for the Friars. He took a big pitcher and went to draw water at the spring. The Friars didn’t have their own well, so that one of them had to continually run the rocky sloppy path to quench the thirst of the Friars. There was need of a lot of water, because in the house there were seven Friars. Six were going every day at work, one remained to prepare the meal, to take care of the orchard and to bring water. When it was Friar Ippolito turn, he hid with difficulties his disappointment. He didn`t like to cook, and even lesser he liked to go to the spring and fetch water.
When, with the pitcher full, he slowly drew near the small gate, which was made by flat stones, that girded the small orchard, he saw that in front of the gate there was an unknown Friar minor. He had long beard, thin arms and pale cheeks. He was leaning heavily on a stick. New Friars usually irritated Friar Ippolito because they needed care, so with a certain rudeness he asked:
"Laudetur... Who are you, Friar, and where are you coming from?" He didn’t understand right away the language of the newcomer that was a mixture of Spanish and Italian:
"I am a Friar minor from Coimbra. It is far from here, overseas... I went to Africa between the Saracens. I thought that Jesus Christ would have allowed me to offer my life for the faith. But it wasn’t so. While I was coming back from Africa, a storm has brought me here..."
"You are telling strange stories, Friar. You say that this Coimbra is far?"
"Very far. At the extreme borders of Europe."
"And even there, there are Friars minor?"
"Yes, there are."
"Perhaps someone heard about them. I haven’t. And why have you come here, Friar?"
"To ask for help and assistance, until I am able to return to my country. During the storm that has assailed our ship I fell ill and I am not yet well."
"Eh, yes. I see, I see. It seems Friar that you have just raised from your sepulchre. Sit down, Friar. Are you really one of us.?"
"Really."
"In search of assistance? We are not many here, but there is a lot of work. Let’s see what the guardian Friar will say. He has gone with the Friars. They will be back tonight. They left me here to cook the soup and to get water. Are you hungry, Friar?"
"I haven’t eaten today..."
"What can I give you? Here is some water for now, and in the meantime I will search for some bread. The people from here are poor. The land is rocky. Even if the Friars go to work, often they come back empty handed. Friar Pafnunzio, that was the first one to establish himself here, hasn’t discovered a better place..."
"And is the Church close?"
"Of course not. We need to go to Messina."
"Is not there a priest amongst you?"
"There is not. Well, sit here in the shade, Friar, and I will look around to find a peace of bread. We, as you know, have no provisions, but I seem to recall that Friar Julian yesterday has brought a piece of bread which nobody ate..."
He moved away, and Anthony remained alone. He sat under the shade of a leafy olive tree. He was looking at the rocky promontory that pushed itself ahead in the sea and against which the billows broke with such impetus to form high jets of water. The sun lit in those jets hoops of rainbow. The entire small inlet gurgled as the water of a small saucepan in boiling state.
Friar Impolite came back with a bit of stale bread.
"Eat, Friar" he said "and as soon as the Friars arrive and the soup is ready, you will have a bowl. I tell you: things are not good here when it comes to food. We also need to carry the water... You are weak, but I advise you to gather your strength and to go in a hurry in your country..."
Towards evening the Friars began to start coming back.
One of the last ones was the guardian, friar Pafnunzio. He was a quite old religious. Before he became a Friar minor he was a merchant of fabrics. During his trips, he had met Francis once, when he still was working in his father’s shop. They had met, they had sympathised with one another. The friendship was the link for which Pafnunzio decided to become a Friar minor. He had not remained, however, close to Francis, he had come back in his native land. As time passed he had gathered a group of Friars. When Francis started to send the Friars on a mission, Pafnunzio decided to start from the Emperor’s Saracen soldiers. But the result was that some imperial officials arrived and ordered the Friars not to deliver their teachings to the soldiers, otherwise they would have been sent away from the isle. The Emperor, they had said, wants that in his reign everyone would maintain their own faith.
The guardian during the evening meal said all this to Anthony. Friar Pafnunzio knew Portugal and had heard of Coimbra. He shook pitifully his head seeing the appearances of Anthony.
"I see Friar that you have been struck by a serious illness. There is nothing to do, you must rest here, before you will embark in the return trip. Stay with us. I will not assign you any work, until you will regain your strength. Then you can help to transport the water and to cook the meal..."
"I could, Friar guardian, celebrate the Holy Mass?"
"Are you a priest?"
"I am."
"Very pleasant news. Certainly, certainly. We are happy. The Church is far from here. So if your strength will allow you, you can celebrate the Mass, and when the feasts of the Resurrection of our Lord approach you will prepare the celebrations of the Holy Week. I will entrust to you the care of our small Chapel."
In such a way the permanence of Anthony in the house of the Friars of Messina was assured. Anthony celebrated the Masses, he prayed and he rested. Slowly slowly he regained his strength. He meditated a lot. He was reflecting:
"I want to return to Coimbra… But to what purpose? For what? The return to Coimbra would put me in an embarrassing situation towards the family and the convent of the canonical. I am a Friar minor and wherever there are Friars I can live together with them. I have renounced to my studies and I will never restart again. I have decided to imitate Francis. So be it. I will not try, not even if there is an occasion, to shed my blood. God has not accepted that sacrifice from me. From me he wants something else. Perhaps, what he wants is precisely the humble life of an unknown Friar… And here in Italy it will be easier for me to remain unknown."
One day while he was laying on the grass he heard beyond the trees the conversation of two Friars.
"That Portuguese Friar arouses the impression of a person not so intelligent" was saying one voice.
"Indeed, it is difficult to believe that he is a Priest" answered the other one.
"It must be a country of ignorants, the one where he comes from, if they consecrate Priests as such…"
"But where is it his Portugal or Spain?"
"In a place at the top of the world. A man who navigated till England has told me of these countries. They have been submitted to the Saracen slavery and the people from there resemble the Saracens.
"He is a good person. Nor meat nor fish…"
"Simply an ignorant and an inept…"
He turned on the other side so that he would not hear the two Friars. The words that he had heard were burning him and had aroused in him an impetus of anger. He nearly had the will of leaping upright and confront those Friars by telling them who he really was. But he dominated his anger right away. Those Friars had no idea who he was. He had told of himself only that he was a Friar minor of Coimbra and that he had sailed in Africa in order to convert the Saracens. He had not said even a word of the years passed between the canonicals. And it was right. It should have been so. Because Francis condemned the knowledge in the Friars minor, he wanted to forget what he had learned long time ago.
"Why do I offend myself? Who am I? A bit of humility, humility… It seems that Francis becomes happier when he is called stupid and buffoon. So must be a Friar minor. "
Chapter 14
Towards evening the Friars began to start coming back.
The house of the Friars minor was a small hut of mud close to Messina. A small handkerchief of cultivated land surrounded the hut. The winter was coming to an end, the sun was starting to burn intensely. Friar Ippolito, left at home so that he could prepare the meal for the Friars. He took a big pitcher and went to draw water at the spring. The Friars didn’t have their own well, so that one of them had to continually run the rocky sloppy path to quench the thirst of the Friars. There was need of a lot of water, because in the house there were seven Friars. Six were going every day at work, one remained to prepare the meal, to take care of the orchard and to bring water. When it was Friar Ippolito turn, he hid with difficulties his disappointment. He didn`t like to cook, and even lesser he liked to go to the spring and fetch water.
When, with the pitcher full, he slowly drew near the small gate, which was made by flat stones, that girded the small orchard, he saw that in front of the gate there was an unknown Friar minor. He had long beard, thin arms and pale cheeks. He was leaning heavily on a stick. New Friars usually irritated Friar Ippolito because they needed care, so with a certain rudeness he asked:
"Laudetur... Who are you, Friar, and where are you coming from?" He didn’t understand right away the language of the newcomer that was a mixture of Spanish and Italian:
"I am a Friar minor from Coimbra. It is far from here, overseas... I went to Africa between the Saracens. I thought that Jesus Christ would have allowed me to offer my life for the faith. But it wasn’t so. While I was coming back from Africa, a storm has brought me here..."
"You are telling strange stories, Friar. You say that this Coimbra is far?"
"Very far. At the extreme borders of Europe."
"And even there, there are Friars minor?"
"Yes, there are."
"Perhaps someone heard about them. I haven’t. And why have you come here, Friar?"
"To ask for help and assistance, until I am able to return to my country. During the storm that has assailed our ship I fell ill and I am not yet well."
"Eh, yes. I see, I see. It seems Friar that you have just raised from your sepulchre. Sit down, Friar. Are you really one of us.?"
"Really."
"In search of assistance? We are not many here, but there is a lot of work. Let’s see what the guardian Friar will say. He has gone with the Friars. They will be back tonight. They left me here to cook the soup and to get water. Are you hungry, Friar?"
"I haven’t eaten today..."
"What can I give you? Here is some water for now, and in the meantime I will search for some bread. The people from here are poor. The land is rocky. Even if the Friars go to work, often they come back empty handed. Friar Pafnunzio, that was the first one to establish himself here, hasn’t discovered a better place..."
"And is the Church close?"
"Of course not. We need to go to Messina."
"Is not there a priest amongst you?"
"There is not. Well, sit here in the shade, Friar, and I will look around to find a peace of bread. We, as you know, have no provisions, but I seem to recall that Friar Julian yesterday has brought a piece of bread which nobody ate..."
He moved away, and Anthony remained alone. He sat under the shade of a leafy olive tree. He was looking at the rocky promontory that pushed itself ahead in the sea and against which the billows broke with such impetus to form high jets of water. The sun lit in those jets hoops of rainbow. The entire small inlet gurgled as the water of a small saucepan in boiling state.
Friar Impolite came back with a bit of stale bread.
"Eat, Friar" he said "and as soon as the Friars arrive and the soup is ready, you will have a bowl. I tell you: things are not good here when it comes to food. We also need to carry the water... You are weak, but I advise you to gather your strength and to go in a hurry in your country..."
One of the last ones was the guardian, friar Pafnunzio. He was a quite old religious. Before he became a Friar minor he was a merchant of fabrics. During his trips, he had met Francis once, when he still was working in his father’s shop. They had met, they had sympathised with one another. The friendship was the link for which Pafnunzio decided to become a Friar minor. He had not remained, however, close to Francis, he had come back in his native land. As time passed he had gathered a group of Friars. When Francis started to send the Friars on a mission, Pafnunzio decided to start from the Emperor’s Saracen soldiers. But the result was that some imperial officials arrived and ordered the Friars not to deliver their teachings to the soldiers, otherwise they would have been sent away from the isle. The Emperor, they had said, wants that in his reign everyone would maintain their own faith.
The guardian during the evening meal said all this to Anthony. Friar Pafnunzio knew Portugal and had heard of Coimbra. He shook pitifully his head seeing the appearances of Anthony.
"I see Friar that you have been struck by a serious illness. There is nothing to do, you must rest here, before you will embark in the return trip. Stay with us. I will not assign you any work, until you will regain your strength. Then you can help to transport the water and to cook the meal..."
"I could, Friar guardian, celebrate the Holy Mass?"
"Are you a priest?"
"I am."
"Very pleasant news. Certainly, certainly. We are happy. The Church is far from here. So if your strength will allow you, you can celebrate the Mass, and when the feasts of the Resurrection of our Lord approach you will prepare the celebrations of the Holy Week. I will entrust to you the care of our small Chapel."
In such a way the permanence of Anthony in the house of the Friars of Messina was assured. Anthony celebrated the Masses, he prayed and he rested. Slowly slowly he regained his strength. He meditated a lot. He was reflecting:
"I want to return to Coimbra… But to what purpose? For what? The return to Coimbra would put me in an embarrassing situation towards the family and the convent of the canonical. I am a Friar minor and wherever there are Friars I can live together with them. I have renounced to my studies and I will never restart again. I have decided to imitate Francis. So be it. I will not try, not even if there is an occasion, to shed my blood. God has not accepted that sacrifice from me. From me he wants something else. Perhaps, what he wants is precisely the humble life of an unknown Friar… And here in Italy it will be easier for me to remain unknown."
One day while he was laying on the grass he heard beyond the trees the conversation of two Friars.
"That Portuguese Friar arouses the impression of a person not so intelligent" was saying one voice.
"Indeed, it is difficult to believe that he is a Priest" answered the other one.
"It must be a country of ignorants, the one where he comes from, if they consecrate Priests as such…"
"But where is it his Portugal or Spain?"
"In a place at the top of the world. A man who navigated till England has told me of these countries. They have been submitted to the Saracen slavery and the people from there resemble the Saracens.
"He is a good person. Nor meat nor fish…"
"Simply an ignorant and an inept…"
He turned on the other side so that he would not hear the two Friars. The words that he had heard were burning him and had aroused in him an impetus of anger. He nearly had the will of leaping upright and confront those Friars by telling them who he really was. But he dominated his anger right away. Those Friars had no idea who he was. He had told of himself only that he was a Friar minor of Coimbra and that he had sailed in Africa in order to convert the Saracens. He had not said even a word of the years passed between the canonicals. And it was right. It should have been so. Because Francis condemned the knowledge in the Friars minor, he wanted to forget what he had learned long time ago.
"Why do I offend myself? Who am I? A bit of humility, humility… It seems that Francis becomes happier when he is called stupid and buffoon. So must be a Friar minor. "
