How many remember the old saying that was famous after World War I: “How are you going to keep them down on the farm when they have seen gay Paris?” I never understood why anyone would trade the simple life of the farm for the hectic life of Paris, or any city for that matter.

We grew up in Rome, but in the summer we took refuge in grandfather’s cabin, in a tiny village in the Alps. We looked forward all year to going there, and we never wanted to return to the city, beautiful as Rome was. Many would disagree with me, but I am convinced that God meant humans to live in the country. Why do I say that? Because when we are away from streets made of cement or tar, away from the fumes of the cars and all the tall buildings we can clearly see the hand of God: the hand of the One who cared so much about us that He lavished beauty all around us. For example, have you noticed that scientists keep discover-ing the most amazingly beautiful creatures in darkest depths of the oceans?

St. Francis of Assisi, better known in Italy as Il Poverello (the little poor one) found out a long, long time ago that “the farm is way better than gay Paris”. He gave up the city, the parties, the money of his father. He even gave up his fancy clothes to take up the rough habit that today we associate with the Franciscan order. He gave up all these things because he found joy in the Lord and in His simple things. When we read one of his most famous prayers, The Canticle of the Creatures, also known as The Canticle of Brother Sun, we can still hear the happiness and the gratitude towards the Creator that must have inspired him.

This is Thanksgiving week, a uniquely American feast. The Pilgrims, after arriving in a land that gave them refuge from religious persecu-tion, spontaneously gave thanks to God for all that they found in their new home. They were grateful for the same things that inspired St. Francis over four centuries earlier. This Thanksgiving it would be good to reflect on the things for which Il Poverello gave thanks to our Lord, especially for His pardon, and even our death which, as St. Francis sings, will lead us to Heaven.

Canticle of the Creatures
Most High, all-powerful, all-good Lord,
All praise is Yours, all glory, all honour
and all blessings.
To You alone, Most High, do they belong,
And no mortal lips are worthy to pronounce Your Name.

Praised be You my Lord with all Your creatures,
Especially Sir Brother Sun,
Who is the day through whom You give us light.
And he is beautiful and radiant with great
Splendor,
Of You Most High, he bears the likeness.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars,
In the heavens You have made them bright,
precious and fair.

Praised be You my Lord through Brothers
Wind and Air,
And fair and stormy, all weather’s moods,
by which You cherish all that You have made.

Praised be You, my Lord through Sister Water,
So useful, humble, precious and pure.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Fire,
through whom You light the night
and he is beautiful and playful and robust
and strong.

Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister, Mother Earth
who sustains and governs us,
producing varied fruits with colored flowers
and herbs.

Praised be my Lord through those who grant
pardon for love of You and bear sickness and trial.
Blessed are those who endure in peace,
By You Most High, they will be crowned.

Praised be You, my Lord through Sister Death,
From whom no-one living can escape.
Woe to those who die in mortal sin!
Blessed are they She finds doing Your will.
No second death can do them harm.

Praise and bless my Lord and give Him thanks,
And serve Him with great humility.