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The Wayside Beggars; The Nun's Beads; Charles King of Sicily · Legends of the Saints

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  Section twelve of Legends of the Saints by Mary Seymour. This LibriVox recording is
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  in the public domain. Read by Marie Christian. Legend of the wayside Beggars.
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  In ancient times, there were two young brothers, both noble, rich
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  and comely to look on. But while the elder was kind, pious,
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  and charitable, the heart of the younger was selfish and revengeful. The father
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  of these youths died while they were infants, but they had the blessing of
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  a gentle and holy mother who prayed daily for grace to train her sons aright.
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  It happened that they had to take a long journey to visit one of
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  their kinsmen, and the brothers started forth in high spirits, with well filled
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  purses, warm clothing, and fleet horses to carry them on their way.
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  They had not traveled far before they came upon a poor woman sitting near a
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  wayside cross, who hid her face in her apron and sobbed most bitterly.
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  Antonio, the elder brother, reined in his horse to ask her what distressed
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  her, and she replied that she had just lost her only son, who
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  had worked for her support, and she wept because she was cast upon the
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  charity of strangers. The youth was touched with compassion, but his brother,
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  who waited a little way off, laughed scornfully. What you are going to
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  believe the first pitiful story told you by the roadside. The woman is a
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  beggar and wants to cheat you of your money. Do not linger, Hush,
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  hush, replied Antonio. Do you not see that she is just the
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  age of our own dear mother. In remembrance of her, I cannot pass
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  this poor creature by, so stooping down, he gave the beggar woman his
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  purse, saying, there is all the help I can give you. May
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  God the Father be your consolation. The poor, distressed beggar rest the purse
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  to her lips and prayed that Heaven might bless her benefactor. And then the
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  brothers went on their way. It was not very long before the road brought
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  them to a dreary forest, and there they saw a little half naked child,
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  singing sadly to himself a strange melancholy air, while he clapped his tiny
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  hands together trying to warm them, and his teeth chattered in his head.
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  Antonio's kind heart was moved and he exclaimed, see, brother, how cold
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  this poor child is, how he must suffer in the piercing wind. Then
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  Pietro laughed bitterly. I do not feel the cold, he said, this
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  is but a peasant boy, who doubtless is used to it. But Antonio
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  murmured, for the sake of Jesus, I must relieve him, And,
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  reining in his horse, he called the child to him, and, handing
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  him his own warm cloak, bade him say every night an ave in return
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  for the guar. The brothers rode onward, but Antonio suffered from the cutting
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  wind until they got through the forest and the sun shone out a little to
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  warm him. Presently, they entered a green meadow where an aged man sat
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  with a wallet on his back, and his tattered clothing marked him for a
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  wanderer and a beggar. When he saw the young men riding by, he
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  called to them in beseeching tones. Pietro took no heed, but Antonio approached
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  the beggar, saying, kindly, what is it, father? See my
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  shriveled cheeks, my bent form, my white hair, said the aged man.
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  My feet will carry me no further. I must sit here and die
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  unless you will lend me your horse to carry me on my journey. Pietro
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  heard and laughed scornfully. Antonio looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said,
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  I give you my horse, old man, for the sake of Christ,
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  who has loved the poor so well, Thank God in whose name I
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  bestow him on you. And then he gently helped the beggar to mount,
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  and stood watching him on his way until he had disappeared from sight. Fool,
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  cried Pietro angrily. Are you not ashamed of what you have done?
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  Money, cloak, horse, all gone to three miserable beggars, and you
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  are reduced to this state of want. I shall not share my purse with
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  you or give you a lift upon my horse. It is better you should
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  feel the consequences of your own stupidity. And he rode on his way,
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  leaving Antonio to trudge wearily on foot. Was he sad? I know?
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  His heart was light and joyous, for he remembered the words of Him who
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  said, inasmuch as ye did it unto one of these, ye have done
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  it unto me. And as he walked along, he prayed to the Queen
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  of Angels to protect and help him during his journey. Meanwhile, Pietro advanced
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  rapidly and came to a narrow path between two rocky mountains, where no gleam
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  of sunshine entered, and where all was gloom. The wind moaned drearily,
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  and Pietro shuddered and looked round him, affrighted. Ah, well might he
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  tremble and shiver, for the form of the evil one rose before him,
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  black in gaunt, bidding him follow and claiming him as his own possession.
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  With a terrible shriek, the youth fell fainting from his horse, and lay
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  senseless in the pathway until some hours after, when Antonio reached the same spot,
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  which for him had no terror, because his blessed mother was watching over
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  him. On perceiving the state of Pietro, the pious youth sank on his
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  knees and prayed God to save his brother. As he spoke, a radiant
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  light illumined the mountain tops, and three glorious angels appeared there, who looked
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  down lovingly on Antonio. Fear not, said one in tones of silvery sweetness.
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  The woman, the child, and the aged man whom thou didst help
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  were none other than our Blessed Lady, her divine Son, and the Holy
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  Saint Joseph. They have sent us to guard and help thee, and for
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  thy sake, to help and restore thy brother. Also. Then the three
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  angels spread their wings and soared above the pathway like three white doves, and
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  Pietro rose up and with Antonio followed the heavenly spirits until they had passed through
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  the gloomy mountains. Then the lovely messengers vanished amidst soft strains of music,
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  while the brothers, looking around, saw both their steeds fastened to a tree
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  and waiting for them. Mounting, they went their way, one humbled contrite
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  and changed in heart, the other praising God and Mary Immaculate. End of
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  Legend of the Wayside Beggars, Legend of the Nun's Beads. There was a
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  very earnest and devout nun who had a great love for the Blessed Mother of
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  God, and whose every spare moment was given to the recital of the Rosary.
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  She was, however, so busily occupied in the service of the community
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  that it was often a difficult matter to complete her work and her prayers in
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  the day, so that sometimes she had to rise in the night to fulfill
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  some duty. One night she was winnowing flower, and as she worked in
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  solitude and silence, the thought came into her mind that she might say her
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  rosary at the same time. So she worked at her flower with one hand
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  as she passed the beads through the other, and thus employed the hours sped
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  rapidly away. At last, happening to cast her eyes on the table where
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  her beads rested, she saw many lovely roses lying there. For every ave
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  she had said, there was a white rose for every paterno stare a red
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  one. And yet though the flowers were plainly to be seen, the humble
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  nun could scarcely believe such a wonderful thing could happen to her. So she
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  went on with her prayers, but watching she saw that at each one which
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  fell from her lips, a fresh rose appeared on the table. She could
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  not doubt any longer the favor which had been granted her, although she resolved
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  to conceal it from her sisters through humility. But such was not God's will,
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  for he who loves to listen to every prayer which is offered through merry
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  immaculate caused the beads of this pious nun to change into garlands of fragrant roses,
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  even when she prayed in public, so that thus all might see the
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  reward of devotion to her, whom he chose for his mother. End of
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  Legend of the nun's beads. Legend of Charles, King of Sicily. When
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  Charles the second of Sicily and Count of Province, was taken prisoner and confined
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  at Barcelona, his confessor advised him to ask the intercession of Saint Mary Magdalene,
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  the special Patroness of Province, because it was in that region she passed
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  the long period of her penitential life. King Charles did what was recommended to
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  him, and on the next night, which was the knight of the feast
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  of this great Saint, he was aroused from his sleep to see her standing
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  by his side. I have heard your prayer, she said, Arise and
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  follow me. He rose, and Saint Mary Magdalen led him and all his
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  followers, who had been made prisoners, safe out of the fortress. And
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  for a little while she still continued to walk on before them in silence,
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  and they wondered very much where she was leading them too. At least asked.
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  She turned and asked the king if he knew in what country he was.
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  He replied, yes, we are just outside the walls of Barcelona.
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  You are mistaken, said the Saint. Already you are six miles beyond the
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  boundaries of Spain and province, and only one league from Narbonne. Charles threw
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  himself at her feet. What shall I do, said he, as a
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  token of my gratitude for this knight's deliverance. Saint Mary Magdalen smiled graciously upon
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  him. I will tell you what you shall do, she answered. Many
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  long years ago, when war was raging in this province, my relics were
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  moved to the church of Saint Maximin by the faithful. There they still lie,
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  and I bid you search for them. A vine grows there, and
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  underneath it you will find my body, and by this token you may know
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  it is truly mine. The skin is unchanged on the part where it touched
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  our Lord's risen body. Two vessels also you will find, one filled with
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  the hair which wiped his sacred feet. The other preserves the blood stained earth
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  which I gathered at the foot of the cross on the day of his suffering.
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  There those precious relics never left me while I lived, and with me
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  they were buried. I desire now that they are given into the keeping of
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  the friar preachers, who are my brothers, seeing that I, also,
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  like them, was a preacher and an apostle. And with these words the
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  saint disappeared. When day dawned, Charles of Sicily, Count of Province,
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  saw that he was indeed close to Narbonne, and in remembrance of the miracle,
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  he erected a cross over the spot and went to the church of Saint
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  Maximin to search for the holy relics. There he found them, as the
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  Saint had said, and when a monastery of Dominican order was erected, the
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  relics were removed there with great pomp. And the king had ever after a
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  deep devotion for the saint, who had come to his help in answer to
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  the prayer he addressed to her when he was a prisoner. End of Legend
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  of Charles, King of Sicily, end of section twelve.