Story-time with Cardinal Fratelli, part 5

The cardinal finished speaking. Six, wide-eyed boys peered up at him. Fresh in their minds were images of the grey, grinning gargoyle, the two brothers carrying home treasure, the donkey trotting amidst palm branches and of course, the white-fanged wolf who seemed less scary now. When the cardinal brushed dirt off his red robes, ready to depart, little Paolo begged: “Please tell us one more…please?”

The priest-attendant stopped to examine the sky, minding it was late and shook his head. Cardinal Fratelli strode towards him, inciting many groans of disappointment. Paolo’s small finger dug into the train of his garment and he couldn’t bear to turn away.

“Alright then, I shall tell only one more story,” the cardinal said.

The boys cheered and resumed their places at his feet, Antonio standing, behind Stefano who squatted down, Paolo fidgeting beside them. Wasting not a moment, Cardinal Fratelli began his next tale:

“Two large stones once sat on a tall hilltop. They longed to see what lie on the hill’s other side but could not move themselves. Seeing a mouse, they asked him, “Please go to the hill’s other side and tell us what is there.”

Returning, the mouse said, “Tall grass is on the other side; towering mushrooms and lofty mountains. The creatures there are gigantic.”

No doubt, the rocks were surprised. So, when an eagle perched nearby, they asked her “Please go to the hill’s other side and tell us what is there.”

Returning, the eagle said, “There’s short grass, tiny flowers and small pebbles. The creatures there are itsy-bitsy.”

Then, a man came along, dragging a huge log and the rocks asked him, “The hill’s other side is a wondrous world that we’ve never seen, please carry us there!”

The man obliged. He tied both stones together and lugged them to the other side of the hill. Once there, the stones peered about eagerly. However, they found that this side of the hill looked exactly like the other… So do not be ungrateful for what you have my children."

Story-time with Cardinal Fratelli, part 4

“I am not leaving until I hear the story about the wicked wolf,” Antonio pouted.

He stood man-like, hands clenched into fists, arms crossing his chest. Stefano glanced back at him, somewhat fearful that he would hiss or pinch again. Paolo glued his eyes on the scarlet-clad cardinal.

“It is growing late, near time for Vespers, but I shall tell one last tale,” Cardinal Fratelli decided aloud.

Ceasing his anger, Antonio sat down inches from the cardinal’s feet. Fratelli eyed him, this impetuous, mean-spirited youth and sighed. Slowly, he collected his thoughts and spoke in a voice that commanded attention:

“Oh, the wicked wolf, the wicked, wicked wolf… Everybody knows how scary he was- how wild and fierce! But do you know the way he was tamed? I will tell you then. You see, the wicked wolf prowled at night, growling and snatching away helpless people. Many people in the small village of Cocalo disappeared and they knew the wolf had gotten them. Now, outside this village lived a hermit monk. His name was Ferdo. His hair was dirty, full of clay from the river, his frame was thin from fasting and penance and his clothes hung in rags.

The wicked wolf raised such an outcry that parties began gathering to hunt and kill him. Surely this foul beast was no good, only fit to be slain! When the hunters marched out, Ferdo met them. In kindly voice, he implored, “Spare the wolf, he is just a beast and doesn’t understand. He doesn’t need to die. At least, let me talk to him before you go forth.”

Thinking Ferdo to be a madman, they laughed at him and said: “Sure, go talk to your wolf friend. But be warned, we will use our swords should we see him!”

Thus, Ferdo ventured out into the dark woods, went to meet the wicked wolf. As Ferdo sat in a glade praying, the sound of clawed feet came forth. It was the wolf, staring with bright yellow eyes, bearing his knife-like fangs.

Ferdo hid his fear and stood. Holding out his wooden staff, he spoke:

“Brother wolf, you have gotten yourself in some trouble. I know you are hungry and need flesh to live but why eat the villagers? Why take lives that do nothing to harm you? The man are angry and they come to slay you but listen brother wolf, we can help you-if you only promise never to kill again.”

Bewildered, for men always came at him with sword, axe and club, the wolf shook his head. Bowing down, he replied:
            “I am sorry, my brother. Truly I am hungry and need flesh to live. If you help me, feed me, and raise not swords against me, I shall promise never to kill again.”

Right before the huntsmen, Fredo appeared, leading the wicked wolf by his scruff as if he were a tame dog. He reiterated their words, the promise made between them and instead of slaying the wolf; the villagers laid out for him a whole chicken. He ate it timidly and went away. No more people were snatched away in the night. Peace came. From now, they remembered Fredo, remembered not to make the beasts into enemies. For with kind words and understanding, war will cease.”

Story-time with Cardinal Fratelli, part 3

“Tell us another, Good Eminenza!” cried little Paolo.

His sweet, babyish eyes sparkled with delight. Patting Paolo’s messy brown hair, Cardinal Fratelli laughed.

“This next tale is about a donkey…”

“Come on,” Antonio suddenly blurted out, “A donkey? How boring and stupid!”

The cardinal frowned for a moment- then he grinned and chuckled to himself.

“Perhaps Antonio, you can learn from this story…”

Antonio kept silent, not necessarily feeling rebuked but curious as to how a story about a donkey can be anything exciting. As the priest-attendant sighed tiredly and leaned upon the stone railing nearby, Cardinal Fratelli began:

“A long time ago, in a distant desert land, there lived a donkey. His fur was grey, his eyes big and brown and his hooves wide like dishes. He lived on a farm with other animals: cock, ox and horse. They laughed at the donkey and mocked him.

“I wake our master in the morn so he may plant the crops we eat,” said cock.

“I pull the plow so that the crops planted may grow and we can eat,” said ox.

“I carry our master to the market so he may sell the crops and we can have more to eat,” said horse.

Thus, the donkey tried to wake their master at morning but he made an awful braying noise. He tried pulling the plow but it fell loose on his narrow shoulders and would not move. He tried to carry their master but horse pushed him aside. “I am useless, mean and ugly,” said the donkey, “I will run away.”

The very next day, the master left for a journey. He brought with him cock and ox. He rode off on horse, leaving the donkey alone, tied to a fence. Sadly, the donkey hung his head. “Now I shall run away” he said.

However, just as the donkey began chewing through his rope, some strange man came forth and untied him. “Just as well” said the donkey, “If I am stolen and killed so be it…” Suddenly, another man in a red cloak approached. The donkey felt peace. With kind eyes, he beheld the donkey, patted his mane and whispered. Then in one quick leap, he mounted. The donkey had never been ridden before, that was horse’s duty, yet he easily supported this man’s weight. Great noise arose as the donkey was urged forth. Many people appeared in the streets. At once, the donkey raised his head. Crowds of men women and children clamored round, hailing this man: this seeming prince who had borrowed him. Crying out: “Hosanna to the Son of David!” they strewed palm branches about and laid down their cloaks.

The donkey’s master suddenly arrived- along with cock, ox and horse. They halted before him. Yes, his former tormenters gazed in amazement, for the one deemed useless now carried a King. The one not good enough for the master was now goodly for a Lord. The one, ugly and mean, was now a bringer of beauty, nobility and Truth. Ignored, mocked and esteemed not, this lowly donkey bore aloft on his back, the very Son of God, the exalted King of all Kings and Lord of all Lords, Jesus Christ!”

Story-time with Cardinal Fratelli, part 1

“Sua Eminenza!” cried a small, brown-haired boy, “Tell us a story!”

Holding back folds of red finery, Cardinal Fratelli paused. Several children rushed forth to meet him, one breaking past the attendant priest. He looked down and smiled but his silent thoughts were again broken by the crying voice,

“Please!”

“Alright, little Paolo, I shall tell you a story,” the cardinal agreed.

Instinctively, all the other children gathered around him, each asking for a story.

“I want to hear about the winter witch!”

 “Tell us about the gypsy tramp, the one that turns into a goat!”

A boy with blonde curls begged:

“No, tell us of the dueling prince of Florence!”

Another boy named Antonio easily pushed him out of the way.

“No that is stupid, let’s hear about the mean wolf!”

Being tall and 14 years old, Antonio was arguably just as mean as the wolf.

“Now, now… calm down,” assured Cardinal Fratelli, “There is time yet…”

 He searched for a proper place to sit and saw nothing but a stone railing. It was likely dirty and cold. He simply stood there, raised one hand and stroked his chin in amusement. The children sensed his thoughts and quieted. Six pairs of eyes stared expectantly. At last, clearing his throat, collecting himself, he began.

“Let me tell you about the statue that came to life… On a cold, blustery night, we gathered to say Vespers in the cathedral…”

“What’s Vespers?” blurted out the blonde boy.

Cardinal Fratelli, not irritated at all, answered, “Little Stefano; that is our evening time of prayer when we recite the psalms and ask for God’s protection.”

Antonio hissed and pinched Stefano- lest he dare ask another question and keep them waiting. After some minutes, things quieted again. Fratelli continued:

“How cold and stormy it was that night! The clouds wore cloaks of grey and rain danced about. After we finished our Vespers, one of the priests must have heard something and he gave me a fright. Jumping up and down, he said: “There’s a bat in the belltower! I saw it!”

 Now, I told him any bat would surely be gone by morning but he still seemed so frightened, asking what should happen if it flies into our windows at night.  

“If I catch it myself,” I said, “You shall have to dust and polish the high altar”

That altar had been dusty for a while…

Without an answer, I marched up into the dark bell tower holding nothing but a tiny candle. My light fell on this large grey face, open-mouthed, snout-nosed, garish and toothy. How I jumped! It was only a gargoyle, carved into the cathedral wall ever since olden times. I continued my away and kept searching for the bat. Suddenly a winged shadow flew overhead and I reached to grab it. Flapping wings brushed my hand- how dreadful! And worse so, it escaped! Swooping in a big circle, the bat dove out into the grey skies. Good, it is gone. Now came time to retire and sleep well. However this strange night would not end yet! When I passed the gargoyle again, I noticed an eerie black space where it once stood. Wasn't it just here? Where had it gone? Gargoyles don’t just get up and walk away, do they?

My terrified feet flew down the stairs and to the sanctuary where my bewildered priests stood. “The bat is gone, do not worry anymore,” I gasped. Then as I ran from the church, they followed, not asking a question. Early the next morning, almost compelled, I again climbed the bell tower and saw the grey gargoyle sitting there, wrinkling his nose and smiling as usual. Good, it was just an illusion, a trick of the eyes played at night. Or so I thought- for as I turned to climb back down, I heard a quiet voice lean over and whisper: “Make sure good Father dusts me off as well!”

A Frustrating Day for Cardinal Fratelli (part I)

Early in the morning, Cardinal Fratelli woke up. Still yawning, he rose, washed, opened the shutters to let sunlight in and dressed. Immediately, he noticed a hole in one of his red, silken socks.

“Oh no…” he muttered, casting the “ruined” sock aside.

Standing, Fratelli hopped to his dresser drawer where he searched for another sock. There were no other socks there. Moreso, Dina just took all his dirty socks to be washed. Fratelli grumbled, retrieved the discarded sock then put it on. He hoped the little hole wouldn’t get bigger.

When Father Rodrigo knocked on the door, Fratelli came and followed him into the chapel for morning-prayer. Despite the early hour, they found it easy to concentrate and chant their praises:

“Come let us sing to the Lord…and shout with joy to the Rock, who saves us…”

After the prayers were finished, Fratelli emerged first from the chapel. Already, the smell of breakfast cooking wafted into his nostrils. Now, the cardinal usually celebrated Mass at the cathedral most mornings but it was Wednesday and he would not go to the cathedral, yet would have his own, private Mass later. As the others walked off to the cathedral, Fratelli heard bells chime. Happily, he smiled because this meant he would be first to arrive to breakfast, the smell of which was by now, driving him nearly mad!

Perhaps too readily, Cardinal Fratelli strode into the dining-room and sat down. Seeing Dina just setting down a stick of butter, he asked:

“Is it ready yet?”

“No, not yet, Your Eminence,” Dina replied.

“Oh, please make it soon,” Fratelli moaned, “ I am simply famished!”

The housemaid only laughed at him.

When Dina brought back a plate of grape jelly, the cardinal absentmindedly dipped a finger in it to have a small taste. But, she had seen him!

“Your Eminence!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said.

She shook her head then walked off. The rest of breakfast needed preparing and she couldn’t bother herself with the impulsive cardinal.

Fratelli sat there, restless and hungry for an hour. When the others returned from Mass, Dina finally laid out their meal: Eggs, spinach, hard toast and ham. With an austere gesture, Fratelli blessed the food then eagerly helped himself. When Dina poured his tea, he thanked her.

“Why don’t you join us?” he added. 

“No, Your Eminence, I’ve still much to do,” Dina said.

Fratelli frowned, feeling bad for her. Yet, Dina liked to work. He understood it was a simple thing that brought her happiness.  

Finishing his second cup of tea, Fratelli excused himself. He spent most of the morning in his office, reading documents, writing letters, signing documents. As noon sun climbed high and poured through the office window, Fratelli leaned in his chair and rested. Even though he expected an audience soon with some prominent people of Lucca, maybe he could steal a nap? Tiredly, he eyed the large, blue-coated book he’d recently began reading and for a moment, rested his head on it. Very soon, he drifted off to sleep.

~ ~ ~

After waking, Cardinal Fratelli helped himself to hot tea, grapes, rolled prosciutto and bread-sticks. Munching, he longingly looked out the window. Many birds flew by. He worked a little more in the office, grew bored with the blue book and set it aside. It was time for afternoon Mass anyway. Father Rodrigo came and fetched his green vestments. They were not his favorite vestments, the cloth was rather old and crinkly, feeling course against his hands. Yet he said nothing. Halfway through the initial prayers, one of the candles flickered and died out. He stopped speaking and stared at it.

Rodrigo patiently waited. Eventually the cardinal continued but he couldn't resist peering at that silly candle, wanting to relight it. It detracted him throughout the entire Mass.

Just as Fratelli removed his vestments and strode from the chapel, Dina met him.

"Sergio Ricollina and his family are waiting for you," she said.

Can't I have a minute to myself? the cardinal mused.

~ ~ ~

Now, Sergio and Julia Riccollina had a daughter named Veronica. She arrived to the audience late. Having long, dark-brown hair and bright, blue eyes, she was one of Lucca’s loveliest women- and it was no secret she sought for a husband. Sergio Riccollina proudly smiled as she entered the room. How he cherished his dearest daughter, clad in a blue dress that hugged her figure, smiling radiantly.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Eminence,” she began in a rehearsed tone.

“You as well,” Fratelli answered.

The previous conversation was forgotten as Veronica sat in a chair beside her parents. Happy to have all the attention, she continued speaking:

“Oh, how glad I am to see Lucca’s beautiful cathedral! Maybe I can come there by myself some time and pray?”

“Yes anytime,” Fratelli answered.

She kept looking over at him and by now, he grew rather uncomfortable. When she winked at him, fluttering her dark eyelashes, the cardinal stood up and walked to the window.

“Maybe it is time for you to be leaving?” he asked.

“Not yet,” said Sergio, “It is time for a glass of wine.”

It was about supper time… Anxiously, Fratelli removed his red skullcap and groaned. On the way towards the kitchen, he stopped in his private chapel. Bowing before the altar, he spoke:

"Oh Lord, keep me from being irritable this evening. Give me peace. St Joseph, most kind, pray for me, that I remain pure in heart."

He crossed himself delicately then left. Supper was already waiting for him, roasted lamb with squash ravioli and greens. Sergio stood when the cardinal entered. But Fratelli was too occupied with how delicious it all smelled- and avoiding Veronica's glance. Caught in a reverie, he almost passed his seat.

"Your Eminence," Dina sighed as she helped him to his place.

"I am sorry" Fratelli replied, "It has been awhile since I ate..."