The Life of St. Francis of Assisi
At last here is this book which I told you about so long ago. The
result is small indeed in relation to the endeavor, as I, alas! see better
than anyone. The widow of the Gospel put only one mite into the
alms-box of the temple, but this mite, they tell us, won her Paradise.
Accept the mite that I offer you to-day as God accepted that of the
poor woman, looking not at her offering, but at her love, Feci quod
potui, omnia dedi.
Do not chide me too severely for this long delay, for you are
somewhat its cause. Many times a day at Florence, at Assisi, at
Rome, I have forgotten the document I had to study. Something in me
seemed to have gone to flutter at your windows, and sometimes they
opened.... One evening at St. Damian I forgot myself and remained
long after sunset. An old monk came to warn me that the sanctuary
was closed. "Per Bacco!" he gently murmured as he led me away, all
ready to receive my confidence, "sognava d'amore o di tristitia?"
Well, yes. I was dreaming of love and of sadness, for I was dreaming
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