I see and immediately recognize my St. Francis of Assisi.
I see him twice. The first time in the morning. He is standing in his poor cowl, not brown, but graybrown, like the feathers of a wild turtledove. He is barefoot, with his head uncovered, and already with the stigmata. I clearly see the wounds in the palms of his thin hands. He is standing with his arms bent at the elbow and held close to his body, with his hands at shoulder level, like a priest when he says, “The Lord be with you.” I thus see the wounds in his palms distinctly. He is looking at me with compassionate gentleness. He does not speak.
The second time, in the evening, he comes back, and I see him even better. His face is so gaunt that it looks almost triangular. His hair, trimmed in a circle, forms a slightly wavy line, grizzled in its light chestnut brown, on the high, very pale brow. He has light-brown eyes, sad and good, deeply sunken in his sockets, a long, thin nose, very pale, slender cheeks, lengthened by a sparse beard trimmed into a point. He is smiling, but without joy. A smile seeking only to encourage. He speaks. Slowly. In a clearly intoned voice, but as if weary.
Signaling with his wounded hand, he asks, “Do you like my olive trees?”
“No,” I answer.
“And yet.... I liked them so much because they reminded me of our Lord Jesus in his Prayer.”316
“You, Father, saw Jesus in their midst. I no longer see anything, and they bring me only sadness.”
“Strive, daughter, to find peace and joy in them. I said so, and I suffered so much then, for I, too, was disillusioned with men and, I would say, with God’s approval of my work: ‘Blessed are those who do God’s will and for his sake face every tribulation.’ Try to reach this painful blessedness. It is the stigmatization of the spirit, and it is more painful than this one - do you see? - which opens my flesh. I know. But try. Weep and try. I, too, suffered so much and for so many reasons. I, too, experienced fondness. I, too, was full of longing. I, too, felt the prayer I had offered in certain hours falling back upon me. I endured hours in which I was able only to moan. I know what your pain is. But I say to you, ‘Strive to find peace and joy in all the pain.’ Afterwards joy and peace come. Be good. I will stay close to you. I bless you with my blessing: ‘May the Lord have mercy on you, turn his face towards you, and grant you peace. May He give you his blessing.’ ”317 It is not much. But it is already a glimmer of Heaven which comes to me. I had never seen or heard the Saint whom, if you recall, I greatly venerate, and I was astonished. He came to console me a little in this desolation....
316 Luke 22:39-46.
317 Numbers 6:24-26