IN THE EVENING my little daughter heard a call from her companions below the window. She timidly went down the dark stairs holding a lamp in her hand, shielding it behind her veil. I was sitting on my terrace in the star-lit night of March, when at a sudden cry I ran to see. Her lamp had gone out in the dark spiral staircase. I asked, 'Child, why did you cry?' From below she answered in distress, 'Father, I have lost myself!'
BE NOT ashamed, my brothers, to stand before the proud and the powerful with your white robe of simpleness. Let your crown be of humility, your freedom the freedom of the soul. Build God's throne daily upon the ample bareness of your poverty, and know that what is huge is not great and pride is not everlasting.