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BY ROMA GONZALES
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Brother Sun, Sister Moon
LET’S talk about an old acquaintance named Giovanni.
Yes, he is Italian and had experienced the greatest Dolce Amore the rest of us are struggling to find in the wrong places. Does this count as gossiping? No, not really, though I presume that he would mind, being humble and reserved and all.
Gio wouldn’t have approved of the massive extrajudicial killings happening in the country now. Without intending to put words in his mouth and tarnish this ode to him with politics, it could not be helped to point that out. You see, Gio was a wayward teen. Lord knows what parties and intoxications he had had, and we’re not just talking about Italian Sauvignons here. And so he would say now that everyone deserves second chances. He valued all forms of life, but we’ll get to that later.
Gio was a #richkid. Let’s say he was a Paris Hilton or a Borgy Manotoc of some sort. His father was a wealthy textile merchant and his mother was an elitist. As expected, he had led a life of indulgences and entitlements. He had ridden the best pony and slept in memory foam mattresses, I imagine.
Gio dreamed of glory. What young man didn’t and wouldn’t? So he signed up for the military. Nobody really knows what happened, but as anyone who has ever been caught up in the trappings of war would tell you, you don’t come back as the same person. That and almost dying from an illness knocked him hard real bad he began talking to animals and plants.
Gio stole his wealthy father’s money and textiles…this time not to party but to rebuild a church. Aghast, his father tried to sue him. You know what he did? Listen because this is what’s truly #rad and #yolo, he took off his clothes and handed them back to his father along with his last name. He renounced his comfy life as an heir to a thriving corporation and walked off into the woods. Whistling, I presume.
You would have expected Gio to start a hippie commune, and that’s probably what it was in a way. He was a charmer and a natural leader. Soon, people, some are his old friends, joined him and together they started an order that renounces worldliness. He embraced lepers and respected people even from the church that was then teeming with corruption and excess. Gio and his friends preached and lived (because we should not preach what we cannot practice) a life of simplicity.
Gio could supposedly talk to birds, wolves and other animals. He called the sun, wind, air and fire his brothers and the moon, stars, water and even death his sisters.
He also claimed to have heard the voice of God – and yes, so did some nuisance presidential candidates.
Perhaps the world would think he wasn’t right in the head if only he wasn’t so virtuous and consistent in his teachings that he was able to pen one of the most moving prayers ever written. One need not be a Catholic to find inspiration in such words:
“Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.
“O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.”
Gio is Giovanni di Pietro di Bernardone who became Francis of Assisi after stripping off his birthright and old life. He died on an October 3 some 790 years back but has continued to live on in memory as one of the most lovable saints and respected philosophers in history./PN
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