THE STORY OF CLARA.
"So faith grew.... The acknowledgment of God in Christ,
Accepted by thy reason solves for thee,
All questions in the world and out of it."
One of the most interested listeners in the Cathedral, the day that
Francis preached his first sermon there, was a little girl of sixteen.
Her name was Clara Scifi, and she was of noble family. From her
childhood she had been accustomed to hear discussed among the elders
the follies and madness of Francis Bernardone. Clara had always been a
good child, and from babyhood delighted to distribute food and alms of
all kinds to the poor. When she was old enough to understand all
Francis' principles, she was greatly drawn to them, though she kept
her feelings to herself. A cousin of hers became a friar, and this
naturally intensified her interest in the Friars Minor. But when she
went to the Cathedral, and, for the first time saw and heard Francis
for herself, it was like a revelation straight from God.
It seemed to Clara that he spoke directly to her, and that he knew all
her secret sorrows, and personal anxieties! Oh how she longed to have
some part in his great work! In those days such a thing as a girl
leaving her home for any reason except to be married or immured in a
convent, and never seen, was unheard of, and when Clara made up her
mind that she would break away from her idle luxurious life and become
a servant of the poor, she knew that she was going to do an unheard of
thing, and that never while the world stood, would she get permission
from her father, Favorina, for any such undertaking! Clare's mother,
Ortolana, was a pious woman, but even if she were to give her
consent, it was quite certain her husband would not. Therefore Clara
determined not to tell her mother what she was thinking about doing.
[Sidenote: _Clara's Decision._]
During the year that ensued after that preaching in the Cathedral,
Clara saw a great deal of Francis, and the more she saw of him, and
heard him talk, the surer she became that God was calling her to leave
home and friends. So one March night, accompanied by two servants,
Clara left her beautiful home, and set off for the Portiuncula, where
Francis and the brothers were waiting to receive her, and welcome her
as a sister in the Lord. Singing hymns, they led her into the little
church, and after a short service, during which they read her the
Rules, her beautiful long hair was cut off, and she robed herself in a
garment of coarse, ash-colored stuff, tied in at the waist with a
rope. After this she was conducted to a convent, some two miles away,
where the Benedictine nuns gave her a temporary shelter.
Francis was too simple and unworldly to think of the possible
consequences of this step of Clara's. He was sure that God had called
her, and he was equally sure that her friends would never give their
consent to her leaving home and becoming an apostle of poverty;
therefore, as God had revealed His will, it must be done at once. It
also never occurred to him that this was likely to develop into a
second Order of his Brotherhood, and an extension of his work. He only
saw a soul anxious to leave the world and all that pertained to it,
for Christ's sake, and his only thought was to provide it a way of
escape, just as he would have cared for a sparrow escaping from the
hawk, or a rabbit from the snare.
Next day Clara's irate parents arrived at the convent. They saw Clara,
and begged and entreated, and threatened, but all to no purpose. She
would not come away. She was absolutely unmovable. At last, seeing
that she was so determined, they gave up any idea of carrying her away
by main force, and listened to her while she talked to them, and
explained her position that she was consecrated to the living God,
and that nothing should come between Him and her. Her parents struck
by her words consented to leave her, and went away promising not to
trouble her again.
[Sidenote: _Agnes._]
But the troubles of the house of Scifi were not yet over. A fortnight
later, Agnes, a child of fourteen, ran away to join her sister. Agnes
had always been intensely devoted to Clara, and besides, she too had
been longing for some more satisfactory mode of life. It cannot be
said that Clara was surprised when Agnes knocked at the door, for ever
since her consecration she had prayed that Agnes' heart might be
touched too, and that she might be led to follow her out of the world.
Therefore she received Agnes with open arms.
"Ah, sweet sister," she cried, "how I bless God that He has so quickly
heard my earnest prayer for thee!" Agnes kissed her and declared that
she had come never to leave her, and together they braced themselves
for the storm that they felt was coming. And a terrible storm it was!
Favorina enraged at losing another daughter, took twelve men relatives
and proceeded without delay to fetch her home by main force if
necessary. However, they smothered their rage at first, as best they
could, and said quietly to Agnes--
"Why have you come here? Get ready and come home."
Then, when she refused to leave Clara, one of them fell on her with
kicks and blows, and taking her by the hair tried to drag her away.
"Ah, my sister," she cried to Clara, "come and help me; let me not be
torn away from my Lord."
Poor Clara could do nothing but follow her weeping. At last, worn out
with her struggles--or, as the legend says, she became so abnormally
heavy--they were obliged to drop her. Clara, reproaching them for
their cruel treatment, begged of them to give the child back to her.
Not knowing what else to do they returned, much disappointed at their
failure.
[Sidenote: _The "Poor Ladies."_]
This action of Clara and Agnes opened the way for many who were
hovering on the brink. As soon as they were established at St.
Damian's, which the Bishop of Assisi placed at their disposal--they
were joined by one woman after another, many their own personal
friends, and thus the second Order of what was then called "Poor
Ladies," was founded. The rule that they followed was very much like
that of the brothers, except in regard to the missionary life. Women
in those days never preached! The "Poor Ladies" supplied the passive
side of the organisation, and by their prayers and supplications,
supported the active workers. Their daily needs were met by what we
should call lay-sisters, women for whom a life apart from the world
was impossible. At first the people of Assisi brought the ladies the
food they needed, but when a little later this first ardour cooled
down, the lay-sisters took it upon themselves to provide regularly for
their necessities.
However, the Sisters themselves were by no means idle. They spun
thread, and made linen altar-cloths, and all that was needed for
churches round about. Then Francis was always sending the sick and
ailing to St. Damian's to be nursed, and for some time it was quite a
hospital. Clara, who was eventually put in charge of St. Damian's was
as rigid as Francis in her conviction as to the advisability of
possessing nothing. When her father died, she was his heir. It was a
very rich inheritance she came in for, but she commanded that
everything should be sold, and the proceeds given to the poor, and not
a penny of it went to enrich the convent. After her father's death
Clara had the joy of welcoming her mother and younger sister Beatrice
into her family!
Clara was always a true Franciscan. All through her life which was a
long one, she kept faithful to the principles of the Order, and never
would she yield to any dispensation that deviated from the narrow path
that Francis trod. When offered certain properties by a Church
dignitary, on the plea that the state of the times made it impossible
for women to possess nothing, she gazed upon him with speechless
astonishment.
[Sidenote: _"I want no Release."_]
"If it is your vows that prevent you," the worthy man went on, "you
will be released from them."
"No," she cried, "I want no release from following Christ."
She was a staunch defender of Francis. She also defended him from
himself! Many a time in hours of dark discouragement, when he was
sorely tempted to fly away, and shut himself up to a life of prayer
and contemplation, she pointed out to him the sheep who, without a
shepherd, were wandering to their own destruction, and drew him back
again into his God-marked path. Her teaching, and her mode of caring
for her sisters was very similar to that of Francis with his
disciples.