Sharing this life story of this remarkable saint -
Found: A Gem in My Childhood
St. Louis Of France
Louis was born on April 25, 1214. His father was King Louis VIII of France and his mother was Queen Blanche. The story is told that when Prince Louis was small, his mother hugged him tightly. She said, "I love you, my dear son, as much as a mother can love her child. But I would rather see you dead at my feet than ever to have you commit a mortal sin." Louis never forgot those words. He grew to cherish his Catholic faith and his upbringing. When he was twelve, his father died and he became the king. Queen Blanche ruled until her son was twenty-one. Louis became a remarkable king. He married Margaret, the daughter of a count. They loved each other very much. They had eleven children. Louis was a good husband and father. And as long as his mother, Queen Blanche lived, he showed her full respect. Busy as he was, the king found time for daily Mass and the recitation of the Divine Office. He was a Third Order Franciscan and lived a simple lifestyle. He was generous and fair. He ruled his people with wisdom, charity and true Christian principles. There was no separation between what he believed as a Catholic and how he lived. He knew how to settle arguments and disputes. He listened to the poor and the underprivileged. He had time for everybody, not just the rich and influential. He supported Catholic education and built monasteries. The historian, Joinville, wrote a biography of St. Louis. He recalls that he was twenty-two years in the king's service. He was daily in the king's company. And he could say that he never heard King Louis swear or use any kind of profanity in all those years. Nor did the king permit bad language in his castle. St. Louis felt an urgent obligation to help the suffering Christians in the Holy Land. He wanted to be part of the Crusades. Twice he led an army against the Turks. The first time, he was taken prisoner. But even in jail, he behaved as a true Christian knight. He was unafraid and noble in all his ways. He was freed and returned to take care of his kingdom in France. Yet as soon as he could, he started back to fight the enemies of the faith again. On the way, however, this greatly loved king contracted typhoid fever. A few hours before he died, he prayed, "Lord, I will enter into your house, worship in your holy temple, and give glory to your name." St. Louis died on August 25, 1270. He was fifty-six years old. He was proclaimed a saint by Pope Boniface VIII in 1297. "Be kindhearted to the poor, the unfortunate and the afflicted. Give them as much help and consolation as you can."-St. Louis
I first read about the story of Queen Blanche when I was a child of ten. How providential that on the eve of my birthday, the life of her son, St. Louis IX, would appear on the sidebar of my email, reminding me of this extraordinary mother who produced two saints: Blessed Isabelle and St. Louis of France. Her words, however, reverberates: what a tall order for her own self! But how remarkable her son turned out to be. Could such a mother exist nowadays? Could such good governance and religion, as Louis IX had shown, mix in today's times? It's a dream devoutly to be wished!
Gems of Childhood
Children, these days, get weaned away from the mother as soon as they start walking, or even sooner, for that matter, if and when parents can afford the luxury of a nursery room separate from their own private room. When I was a child, we didn’t have that luxury. Until I was seven, I think, I used to sleep with my mother. I remember the feel of her body giving warmth to me on cold, rainy days. Sometimes, on hot summer days and she was so tired from the day’s endless housework (there were no washing machines nor any other house tools that could provide relief from a poor mother), she would just flop on the buri mat we slept on, and I got a whiff of the smell of her house dress wet with sweat. But to me, her nearness was all that mattered. If I was sick or had fever, she would rub my chest and back with Vicks VaporRub Cream and then run her fingers through my hair till I fell asleep in the comfort of her gentle touch. I miss seeing that in most mothers nowadays. It’s the touch therapy that’s gone. It was replaced by the modern psychology and attitude to let go of the child to get him or her to become independent as soon as possible.
Gems of Childhood
Children, these days, get weaned away from the mother as soon as they start walking, or even sooner, for that matter, if and when parents can afford the luxury of a nursery room separate from their own private room. When I was a child, we didn’t have that luxury. Until I was seven, I think, I used to sleep with my mother. I remember the feel of her body giving warmth to me on cold, rainy days. Sometimes, on hot summer days and she was so tired from the day’s endless housework (there were no washing machines nor any other house tools that could provide relief from a poor mother), she would just flop on the buri mat we slept on, and I got a whiff of the smell of her house dress wet with sweat. But to me, her nearness was all that mattered. If I was sick or had fever, she would rub my chest and back with Vicks VaporRub Cream and then run her fingers through my hair till I fell asleep in the comfort of her gentle touch. I miss seeing that in most mothers nowadays. It’s the touch therapy that’s gone. It was replaced by the modern psychology and attitude to let go of the child to get him or her to become independent as soon as possible.
