Francisco 1605

Francisco of Guadalajara

Francisco was an old man with bad feet

Often dismissed by those he might meet

Day after day he hobbled down the same avenue

Always of course, in every passer’s view

Many years ago, with his bright eyes and sure hands

He tilled and cared for his wealthier neighbor’s lands

Everyone there knew Francisco’s name

Only the elders remembered his fame

But old Francisco was not the same

Not as vibrant as when he first came

Like an old legend, he was past his prime

As all of us are or will be at some time

Francisco, he was fading away

Into the old man he was that day

No one knew where he often went

No one knew he was heaven sent

No one knew he was on a mission of care

Out to buy what little food he could share

A kind old man offered Francisco a lift

And a mile down the road, gave him a gift

That gift fed Francisco and those with whom he shared

All because that man shared and Francisco also cared

Thus ends my tale of Saint Francisco of Guadalajara. The legend is true and more current than you might think.

I filled in a few blanks because I was not there,

But I liked the story and wanted to share.