Warming Up at the Coldest Day in May

For more than twenty years now, the annual Coldest Day in May party — held on the second Saturday of the month— has been a cherished tradition for friars in the San Francisco Bay Area. The Brother Giles community in the Berkeley flatlands is the permanent host for this very special fraternal gathering. And,true to form, the day has almost always managed to live up (or down?) to its reputation. This year the thermometer soared to a high of 64 F, with an average temperature of 56 throughout the day. Add to that, the reliably unpleasant wind gusts from off the Bay, just a couple of miles west of the house, and voila—The Coldest Day in May.

Friars fit and fat alike flocked to this annual feed, lovingly prepared by the likes of Friars David Cobian, Adrian Peelo, and Luis Alberto Guzman. But the friars didn’t come in droves; it’s more like they arrived in overlapping shifts as one session of grazers yielded gradually and gently to the next. There was always plenty—even too much!—to eat, though. For sure, no one left hungry.

The friars at Brother Giles have never been outdone in their hospitality. In addition to the above-mentioned brothers, John Gutierrez (“Gootz”)—the guardian, Tito Garcia, and Dennis Duffy were also on hand to offer welcome. A welcome that we visitors, in turn, were more than happy accept by scarfing up humongous portions of: hot dogs, burgers, veggie burgers, German sausages; homemade potato salad, fruit salad, cole slaw… and the best desserts ever—especially Brother David’s famous Earthquake Cake (chocolate cake topped with flan and drenched in caramel sauce) Ay caramba!

So. The friars came. They ate. They relaxed. They raced for whatever patch of sun they could find. And, they stayed. It was all very simple and uncomplicated. We just had fun by just hanging out. Just being around each other. Just celebrating the rites of spring together. Just being brothers.

This is part of what “fraternity in mission” is about for us. Yes, we take our ministries very seriously, and friars do work hard. Sometimes, too hard. But we also like to play. And it’s just great to get together with the brothers and do just that.The twenty-some friars who attended this year’s event represent a fair cross-section of our men in the San Francisco Bay Area: Fr. Floyd Lotito from St. Boniface in San Francisco’s Tenderloin; Father Finian McGinn, recuperating from surgery and looking better each day; Richard Purcell cracking jokes and navigating with his walker; student friars like Chris Best, Louis Khoury, and Nghia Pham taking a break from their final exams and papers. And, their teachers were there, as well—also taking respite from end of the term stresses: Friar Joe Chinnici and others from the nearby Franciscan School of Theology were on hand.

Oh, and our “boss”, Fr. Mel (the Provincial) was there, too— just back from a meeting in Denver. So was Tom West, our vicar provincial. Ponchie Vasquez brought his mom and her friend, both visiting from Texas. And our new postulant applicants were there, too—Ryan, Mike, Jose, and Phillip—looking none the worse for wear after their admissions interviews (but still in the dark as to whether they’d been accepted or not). Oh, I showed up for a while, as well. I took my bicyle on the train from Sacramento and rode into Dodge before 2.

Brothers together. That’s the way we are and were: old and young and in between. The well and the convalescing. The hungry and the “no thanks, I had a big lunch’. All of us mixing it up and just enjoying being with each other for a few hours in the chilly spring. And in the warmth of the Lord’s love.

So. Maybe we’ll see you there next year! Put it on your calendars. And if you’re in the area, let me know. We’ll have you over for burgers and Earthquake Cake, too. But dress warm. They don’t call it the Coldest Day in May for nothin’.

Brother Jeff is leaving... or is he?

Brother Jeff Shackleton, 45, has been with our community for seven years. Soon, he will need to decide either to renew his temporary vows or else leave our formation program. It’s an agonizing decision for any man who has entered religious life, but Jeff’s situation is illustrative of the ongoing nature of vocational discernment.

Discernment doesn’t stop at the front door of the friary. Trying to understand God’s will is a step by step, day by day process for each and all of us. And it’s a lifelong process, as well. Not a once and for all time commitment. We are human beings, not angels. We make our promises and, with the grace of God, we do our best to keep them. But only the saints among us have anything remotely like a perfect record.

I tell men who are in discernment with us and who decide to apply to our postulancy program: “Please relax. You are not making a decision for the rest of your life. You are making a decision for the next nine months—to enter into one of our houses and live with us in order to try on our way of life and see if it fits.” Sometimes I have to remind the solemnly professed friars of the same thing: “Look, Brothers, we are not considering men for solemn profession at this point. There are bound to be lots of quirks and rough spots in a person’s life, unless he has done a really good job of airbrushing his resume. We are looking to see if a man has the desire, the discipline, and the potential to try his vocation with us.”

At this point it may be instructive to repeat the drill. A man who may be considering a call to religious life contacts us, either in person, by letter or phone, or more increasingly, by email. Our Vocations Office responds, sends him a packet of information and a brief questionnaire. Once a man returns the questionnaire, we set up a “let’s get acquainted” meeting. Or we may invite him to one of our monthly prayer and discernment groups (Los Angeles, Oakland, Berkeley, Phoenix/Tucson, Portland). If he comes to a monthly meeting, we’ll give him a nice dinner, show him around the house, sit with him and the 3-5 other men who may be there as well, and, well, just talk. We make suggestions for things to read, people to see (like a local spiritual director), and things to do (volunteer lay ministry in a parish, social service, etc.) that may help. If a man seems reasonably serious, we will invite him to one of several retreats we offer during the course of the year. Then, usually after a period of anywhere from 6-18 months, he may decide to apply to postulancy—the first phase of our formal formation process.

See? It’s all step by step, poco à poco. That’s the way the Spirit works. Nice and easy. Set a good foundation in prayer, service, spiritual direction, community contact. One step leads naturally to another—gently, firmly, confidently. There should be no drama about this. Drama doesn’t do it. At any point, a man may opt out. That’s just fine. It is not the mark of a failed vocation—it’s a sign that, after having done his footwork, a man may have more clarity and peace about his vocation. And his vocation may not be with us. It is not time wasted; it’s time well spent.

As in the case of our brother Jeff, the discernment continues in a very distinctive way throughout the early years of Franciscan formation—through postulancy, novitiate, and what is called “temporary profession” or “postnovitiate formation.” At the conclusion of his second year with us—the novitiate—a man will make public vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience for a period of one year. Here, the process is more formally structured. Most often, a man lives with other men “in formation.” They have common experiences, meet for days of reflection and retreats together. Each man is evaluated periodically-- he meets with his director on a regular basis to discuss how he is growing in his life—as a human being, as a Christian, as a Franciscan. At the conclusion of each “year”, he may opt to renew his vows, re-up for another year. He may decide to leave. Or the community may ask him to leave. Most often, it’s a mutual decision— we try to let a man know where he stands with us. No trap doors.

Again, departing from formation is a decision, not a disgrace. I need to say that because some folks are still walking around with the idea in their heads that if they don’t ‘make it’ in religious life, they have failed as human beings. Often this attitude comes from the expectations we have of ourselves or the expectations of one’s family or community. Which ain’t necessarily the will of God in one’s life.

The third time is a charm. After a man has renewed his vows for three consecutive years (up to a maximum of nine years), he may apply for solemn (lifelong) profession. If he can’t decide after the maximum amount of time, he needs to leave. There is wisdom in this. A man who can’t or won’t make up his mind can drive himself and other people bonkers.

So what about men who are solemnly professed? Don’t some of them leave, too? Is it true that ‘forever’ isn’t ‘forever’ anymore? Well, let’s be honest and look around us. How many people vow to marriage and stay together their entire lifetime? We are part of society, too. Some people burn out. Some may face a midlife crisis. Others may fall in love. We are human beings. So people leave. Some for a while, only to return later on. Others for good.

How does it feel when a friar leaves? It depends on who is leaving, but yes, it can hurt like hell, too. We open our hearts to each other, hope and trust that we will grow old/er together. That we will always have access to each other in the wonderful ways in which the roots of our lives have knitted (and tangled!) themselves together over time. And the ways in which we have come to endure, tolerate, accept, and then even delight in each other’s goofiness. Yep, it can hurt. And so it is with life. You don’t get any dispensation from pain in religious community.

So, Brother Jeff is up for renewal of vows. Whether he or any man decides to stay or leave, we pray that his decision be marked by that deep sense of inner peace which is a sure sign of the Spirit’s presence, protection, and care. And as a community, we are blessed by all the time and energy a man gives to our life and ministry together—whether it be a single day or an entire lifetime.

Over 40? What's age got to do with it?

"Help! I'm over 40! Would your community consider me for acceptance?" Well, it all depends. Our Province will consider candidates for formation between the ages of 21 and 40, without concern for age. For men between the ages of 40 and 45, we will consider candidates on a case by case basis. We would rarely consider a candidate past the age of 45.

How come? Can't God call someone at any age, from any circumstance of life to become a priest, brother, deacon, or lay leader? Isn't there a terrible shortage of clergy and religious anyhow? And besides, isn't "50" the "new 40"?

I don't disagree with these arguments. In fact, if anyone should favor them, it would be someone like myself. After all, I entered community myself at age 43, so I have a natural sympathy/ empathy for older discerners. That having been said, here is how things look from the perspective of most religious communities today:

The general thinking is that entry into religious life requires a major adjustment in one's way of thinking and relating to others. A younger man, it is argued, will have an easier time adjusting to both the novelty and the strains of living in community. An older man, especially one who as maintained a relatively independent lifestyle, may find community life especially stressful. An older candidate may be more used to his privacy. How will he adjust to the give and take of community living? He may find himself with men half his age as his confreres. How is he going to relate to them? A man who has had a job/career may be used to going to the ATM or using his credit card on the spur of the moment for dinner or entertainment. How will he handle living a radically simplified lifestyle in which he may not have absolute control over certain decisions?

Additionally, more is expected from an older candidate. What have been his life experiences? What has he learned from the ups and downs of life? A younger man, naturally, has had less life experience, is more open and receptive to formation in community. And so on.

Again, I don't know if I agree entirely with this line of reasoning. After all, who are we to put limits on God? I keep a folder of inquiries I have received from men over 45 years of age. I call it my "Eleventh Hour" file. It is quite a thick folder by now. A 'sign of the times', perhaps. Is the Lord trying to tell us something here?

Still, the present reality is this: most religious communities in the United States are reluctant to work with older candidates. Period. And it doesn't look like that will change anytime soon. (Just for the sake of comparison, some communities in other parts of the world hesitate to accept men over 25!)....

So. What's the older inquirer to do? There are a number of options. If a man is especially drawn to the Franciscan charism, he has the option of joining the Secular Franciscans-- the order for laypeople founded by St. Francis himself to enable people to live Gospel values in the circumstances of their daily lives with the support of other, likeminded women and men. There are Secular fraternities throughout the US and the world, part of a movement of lay spirituality involving more than one million laypeople throughout the world! (Consider that there are fewer than 15,000 friars and about 20,000 Poor Clare Franciscan women in the world)....

Secondly, a man can consider discerning for a diocesan vocation as priest or deacon, if community is not his primary concern.

Thirdly, he can contact some of the (very) few groups who will consider older candidates. I have put together the following list over the past few years. I hope it will be of some help. If you find any errors or have other ideas/suggestions, I would really appreciate your feedback. Email me at friarchat@yahoo.com Thanks. Good luck! And God bless!

Religious Communities of Men which will consider older candidates:

Capuchin Franciscan Friars (OFM.Cap)
Our Lady of Angels Province
1345 Cortez Ave.
Burlingame, CA 94010
(650) 342-1489
www.beafriar.org
email: beafriar@yahoo.com

The Salvatorians
Society of the Divine Savior
1735 N. Hi-Mount Blvd.
Milwaukee, Wisconsin 53208
(414) 258-1735-1720
www.sdsvocations.com
email: Scott@salvatorians.com

The Benedictines
Monastery Of The Ascension
541 East–100 South
Jerome, ID 83338
208-324-2377
www.idahomonks.org
Email: frken@idahomonks.org

Missionaries of the Holy Family
Vocations Director: Rev. Camillo Botello, MSF
104 Cas Hills Dr.
San Antonio, TX 78213
Tel: 888/484-9945
www.msf-america.org
email: CBotello@MSF-America.org

Little Brothers of the Good Shepherd
Brother Charles Schreiner, BGS
Villa Mathias
901 Brother Mathias Place
Albuquerque, NM 87102
Tel. 505-243-4238
www.lbgs.org

After Sister Death Comes Brother Tim

“So, Brother. Tell me. What happens after a friar dies?”
I stared expectantly at Brother Timothy. Without blinking, he calmly replied: “Well, I expect that he either goes to heaven or the other place.”

Well, that’s not exactly what I intended by my question. What I really wanted to know is, what happens to a friar’s personal effects—his stuff—when he passes on? If anyone has the answer to that question, it would Brother Timothy Arthur. No, Brother Tim is not our provincial mortician; he is, rather, our provincial archivist. And yes, there is a difference.

We sat in his office at Old Mission Santa Barbara (California). The walls were lines with files and display cases, all neatly organized and carefully arranged. Brother Tim opened a copy of our provincial Statutes, or regulations adapted to local circumstances. For a second, I winced in embarrassment. I hadn’t cracked that particular book since my novitiate, ‘lo these many years ago. Quietly and purposefully, he pointed out the very specific policies and procedures to be implemented in the event of a friar’s death.

It all came back to me. The year was 1998. I was just getting ready to make my solemn profession. A letter arrived from our Provincial Office. I hurried to slice open the envelope, expecting some last-minute instructions for the ceremony. Instead, I found a form letter asking me to designate the kind of music I would like for my funeral (!) and the names of relatives and others to whom I would like to leave my personal belongings after my death. Here I hadn’t even received the golden handshake of solemn profession and I was already within a hair’s breadth of the clammy grasp of Sister Death. Talk about a reality check! Give me a break, guys.

Still, as harsh and unsettling as it may seem at first, the truth is that life and death are side by side. So are their attendant practicalities. Brother Tim patiently explained: After a friar dies, his room is usually sealed by the guardian or himself (the archivist). We look in our files or in those of the deceased to see if he has left any written bequests. We’re not talking about big items here—real estate, pricey jewelry or the like. It’s all remarkably small potatoes. Who do you want to be the recipient of your family photos and other personal memorabilia? What kind of funeral service (songs, readings, etc.) do you want? Where and how would you like to be buried? The truth is that a friar has very little in the way of material possessions—clothes, music, books, maybe a stamp collection or a camera.

It’s all pretty down to earth. Not that the friars necessarily are, though. We’re human beings, too. We don’t want to spend a lot of time thinking about death or planning our funerals. We put things off, lose our paperwork, get distracted and wander. Some brothers will leave behind just a few drawers of old and highly used clothing. Others are pack rats extraordinaire, with piles of books, newspapers, and files crammed into every available inch of space in their rooms. Some brothers are meticulous and dutiful—personal papers in apple pie order in a metal storage box in case of fire. But don’t count on it. Not a few of our confreres would require the services of a private detective to find their stuff. And according to Brother Tim, more than one friar has had the novel idea of stashing his passport, wallet, and other personal papers in the bottom of his wastebasket as an ill-advised precaution against theft.

Ready or not, Sister Death will come visiting. And so will someone like Brother Tim—trying in his patient, gentle, and methodical way to respect the brother’s last wishes and at the same time to preserve for future generations something of the material legacy (journals, collections of homilies, publications, correspondence, and the like) that witnesses to a friar’s life and ministry.//

The All Too Frequent Visits of Sister Death

I’ve just returned from attending the funeral of Elda Macnab, 94, the mother of Jeff, one of our friars. Her passing is just the most recent loss in our extended Franciscan family. Since the first of the year, no fewer than six friars from our Province have died, including our beloved brother Emmanuel Muessiggang, just a month shy of his 100th birthday. Add to the list Friars Anthony Bauman, 88; Bart Mitchell, 84; Lester Mitchell, 79; Michel Gagnon, 76, and David Hitchcock, 74. In addition, parents of three of our friars have passed on as well. I've been asking myself latetly: "Hey, what the heck is going on here?"

St. Francis has given us an enduring insight by presenting all of life a metaphorical sibling to each of us. Hence, the endearing titles of Brother Sun, Sister Moon, and so on. Last on his list was Sister Death: “Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death,” he wrote in his celebrated Canticle of the Creatures in 1225, “from whom no one living can escape. Woe to those who die in mortal sin. Blessed are those whom death will find in Your most holy will, for the second death shall do them no harm.” Death was for Francis no Grim Reaper, no sinister force to be feared and held at bay as long as possible. But rather, in his worldview, Death is part of this life and the natural gateway to eternal life.

Even after 800 years, this is still a difficult insight for many of us to accept and absorb. What is behind this resistance to “Sister” Death, then? Let’s be frank: our high ideals notwithstanding, we are still human beings. We experience fear and suffer loss—especially the loss of people whom we love, cherish and respect. And that loving and losing hurts.

Yes, we friars do love and miss our brothers. We, just as the society as a whole, are now losing our share of the members of the so-called Greatest Generation. These were men whose early lives were shaped by the Great Depression of the Thirties, followed by the tremendous personal and social dislocation of Word War II and the Korean War. Our confreres often came from big Catholic families of immigrant background. And they flocked to monasteries, friaries, and seminaries in great numbers at the end of the war. As friars, they weathered the sweeping changes of Vatican II and upheaval of the Vietnam era. Over time, they saw some of their classmates leave religious life and ministry. They also witnessed the rise, success, and even decline of programs and projects they worked so diligently to initiate and foster.

These ‘good soldiers’ of religious life are leaving us now. They have seen it all and lived through a great many changes in their lifetimes, yet remained faithful to their calling. Yes, we do miss them. But not just because of what they accomplished in ministry, but because of who they were as people. They were and still are our brothers. Thank God for the Communion of Saints. In our Catholic tradition, we believe that we continue to walk with our brothers and sisters who have gone before us. And we continue to rely upon their prayers and friendship.

But for right now: Sister Death, please—um, could you just back off for a little bit, okay? We need some time to breathe, to collect and recollect ourselves. To ask the Spirit: What are you trying to teach us through the passing of our brothers? And where are You leading us from here?//

What Sixth Graders Know and Want to Know about the Franciscans

With fear and trepidation I slogged across the playground. Like a prisoner leaving the yard for the Big House. I had been invited to give a vocations talk to the sixth grade at our parish school. I work with adults, all day long. What do I know about twelve year-old people? After all, I calculated, I’m not one but at least two whole generations older than they are. What could I possibly say to them? What are sixth graders like these days, anyhow?

“Well,” started Mrs. Powers, the principal, greeting me at the door and reading my thoughts at the same time, “they’re a lot like what eighth graders used to be like. They’re good kids, and they have a lot of information, but they’re not quite sure how to put it all together.” That makes two of us, I thought to myself. “Another thing which is very important for them, that they really need to learn is respect. Respect for themselves, respect for each other.”

Armed with these insights and woefully overprepared in terms of props and the amount of material I had planned to present, I stepped hesitantly into the classroom just before the students entered. Their teacher, Mrs. Stites, and I cut strips of paper for the students’ written queries and distributed them among the desktops. A totally unnecessary action; these kids were ready and eager to talk.

“Okay, you go to St. Francis of Assisi school, right? So what do you know about St. Francis and the Franciscans?” I was taken aback. These kids knew a lot—about both. They knew all about St. Francis and the animals, but they also knew that he had been rich and became poor voluntarily to help other people. And they knew a lot about the friars. They knew us by name—all five of us here at our Sacramento parish. Even me, the Fantom Friar, who is almost never home. They knew that we lived together, they knew that we worked for the Church and they understood about our habits and the cords signifying the vows we take.

What they didn’t know they were not at all shy about asking: How much money do you get paid? (Very little). Do you get to keep it? (No, we pool our salaries, pay our bills, get a small allowance, and send most of what’s left to our main office to help the friars who can’t work: seniors and students). Do you any get free time? (Yes, one day a week. Not two, just one.). Can you own your own cd player? (yeah) tv? (not usually) car? (the community owns it, we get to drive it) books? (no problem). Do you have to cook for each other? (Yes, and mostly it’s good, but sometimes it’s awful. Depends on who is cooking).

Have you ever seen the Pope? (Yes, I’ve seen two of them. It was impressive.). Do you have any hobbies? (Well, I cycle, swim and hike when I can)…. Can you have pets? (Generally no. But you can have pictures of them). No pets?! Isn’t St. Francis the patron saint of animals? (Yes, but can you imagine living in a house with seventeen friars with their seventeen cats/dogs? I can’t; it would drive me crazy)…. Do you have another job, too—like working at McDonalds? (Not yet, but we may have to someday if things ever tank for us financially)…. Is your robe hot? (In summer, yes. Then I wear shorts and a t-shirt underneath)…. How old were you when you thought about becoming a priest? (I was six when I first thought about it, then I stopped altogether when I was 18 and started thinking about it real hard again when I was 30). Six years old?! (yep. That’s the truth).

“So. Tell me. Have any of you guys ever thought about becoming a Franciscan (priest, brother, sister)?” I was surprised. About seven hands (out of 30) flew into the air. “How come?” Because it would be cool (okay). Why else? Because you can help people. O.K.! They were also wise: “I would want to make the decision until I was about 20. Because you can’t get married and besides I would like to know more about life first.” (good thinking)

I started to summarize as the class came to an end. “All right, everyone. Remember. God loves you. (Right). God has a plan for each of us (Right again). And that plan is for us to be happy in our lives, not miserable, right? A couple of the philosophers got moving on this one: If God wants us to be happy, why did God make homeless people? Are any homeless people happy?

Food for thought. The wheels, I could see, were turning. Good topic for a future visit. These kids were great. They have dreams. They realize the hard work and sacrifice it takes to achieve those dreams. And they value and respect people who try to give their lives in service to others. “We really like the Franciscans because you’re so cooool!” one kid volunteered. Who was I to argue? Despite my occasional misgivings, I have to admit it, it’s true. Franciscans are cool. Because Francis was cool. And Jesus is always cool.

Speaking of Russia: Mikhail Gorbachev's Assisi Experience

Has the former Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev embraced the Christian faith? A flurry of excitement and speculation in the international media attended his recent surprise visit to Assisi on March 19. According to the UK Telegraph reporter Malcom Moore, Mr. Gorbachev was accompanied by his daughter Irina and passed unnoticed through crowds of pilgrims at the Basilica of St. Francis. He is said to have spent a half-hour on his knees in silence at the tomb of St. Francis. (www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/ news/2008/03/19/wgorbachev119.xml - 50k),

Christian or not, Mr. Gorbachev was frank in his admiration for "Il Poverello," the "little poor man of Assisi" as Francis was referred to affectionately during his own lifetime. "It was through St Francis that I arrived at the Church, so it was important that I came to visit his tomb," Mr Gorbachev remarked at the time, “I feel very emotional to be here at such an important place not only for the Catholic faith, but for all humanity.” Gorbachev is also reported to have requested literature about St. Francis to familiarize himself further with the saint’s life and ministry. Father Miroslavo Anuskevic, a Lithuanian friar at the Basilica of St Francis, helped guide the former Soviet leader through the site. Now 77 years old, Mr. Gorbachev served as General Secretary of the CPSU, from 1985 until the collapse of the Soviet Union and his subsequent resignation in 1991. He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1990.

Apparently, this is the first time Mr. Gorbachev has made any kind of public statement about his personal connection to the faith, although he has been called a "crypto Christian" in the past for expressing views sympathetic to Christian values. Both his parents as well as those of his late wife Raisa were believers. The parents of Raisa are reputed to have been killed during the Stalinist era for possessing religious icons. Gorbachev himself was baptized into the Russian Orthodox Church as a youth, though through much of his career, he espoused the official atheist Party line. During the "glasnost" era, however, he once referred to himself as a kind of ‘pantheist’. “Nature is my god,” he once responded to a journalist when asked about his spiritual beliefs. In contrast, the current Russian leader, Vladimir Putin, openly professes the Orthodox faith.

Following his Assisi sojourn, however, Gorbachev apparently squelched any speculation that he might have embraced Christianity at this point in his life.. Returning from Italy, he told the Russian news agency Interfax that "over the last few days some media have been disseminating fantasies—I can't use any other word—about my secret Catholicism, [...] To sum up and avoid any misunderstandings, let me say that I have been and remain an atheist." (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mikhail_Gorbachev)

In response to Gorbachev’s denials, a spokesman for the Russian Orthodox patriarch Alexei II subsequently told the Russian media: "In Italy, he (Gorbachev) spoke in emotional terms, rather than in terms of faith. He is still on his way to Christianity. If he arrives, we will welcome him."

Wherever he may be on his personal faith journey, it is clear that Mr. Gorbachev, like so many people of good will throughout the centuries and across cultures, has been touched by the inspiring example of "Il Poverello."