Francis and the Stigmata
by John Manderino
[this is the third in the three part series–
read From the Life of St. Francis from the beginning]
Francis and the Stigmata
Kneeling in a cave one evening near the end of his life, holding his scrawny arms out wide, Francis envisioned the suffering of Christ on the cross so vividly and with such compassion he was granted the Stigmata, the wounds of Jesus, in his palms and feet where the nails had been driven, and on his right side just below the ribs where the spear had entered.
This has never happened to anyone ever before, he thought, then prayed so hard for humility the wounds began to run. “Lord, look!” he cried aloud. “I bleed for Thee!” Then prayed even harder for humility, and bled even more.
After a while, weak and dizzy from the loss of blood, Francis stretched out on the floor of the cave. Soon, he was fast asleep. And while Brother Spider and Sister Centipede crawled over him, he dreamed about a pretty girl he once knew named Angelina. He used to call her Angie. She used to call him Frankie.
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