Brother Francis came from a small monastery, but he had the honor of gracing one of the most notable theological seminaries in Europe. Based on his abilities to philosophize, he had been invited by another Brother to "spend some time in fellowship." There was no debating about it to be done. After two hours of receiving the invitation, he gathering only what he could carry, informed the superiors of his monastery and left. He stayed at the seminary for approximately one decade. After years of debates, theories, philosophies and other intellectual stimuli, Brother Francis returned to his small monastery, still sitting in some hills that have yet to be named.

He was greeted humbly by his Brothers. They tried very hard not to treat Francis as a greater being among them, but no one really succeeded in masking their curiosity. They wished to know what Brother Francis had learned, and they desperately wished to be enlightened. To their disappointment, and for some, bitterness, he only met with them when necessary. When he did, he spoke little in brief sentences. The eager ones took his terse words and dissected them, putting more meaning into obvious meanings than taking out.

Brother Francis chose to be alone most of the time. And many thought he was spending his time thinking. True enough, a few believed it was the proper "method of thought" acquired from the great seminary, and soon they secluded themselves even moreso in hopes of achieveing great intelligence. Then one day, Brother Francis left after mid-day meal and walked down the rocky path to a little town. He did not come back for evening meal. When all the brothers had placed their candles up in the dark, he trekked back into the monastery.

This became a routine over the weeks. And the silent adoration and envy from his peers faded away. Not many questioned what quiet Francis did anymore. His brief responses to discussions were not that much enlightened at all. So the other monks went about their business while Francis visited the town every day.

One afternoon, a one young monk happened to look out of his room's window. He caught the old man slowly proceeding down the faded path. This new brother had arrived at the monastery after Francis' return, so his discovery of this journey revived the long-forgotten curiosity of Brother Francis. That day, he continued to look out his window to see if this old brother would come back, but it was only until near the tenth night hour did someone returned to the monastery.

This young monk's name was Henri, and he watched Brother Francis for many a day, puzzling and thinking. Then one afternoon, as Brother Francis was walking down the path again, he found he had an escort. Brother Henri humbly introduced himself. "I wish to tell you, Brother Francis, that it is noble of you to visit the town."

Brother Francis sniffed at the cold air. His weak legs did not stop. "Noble?" he asked, softly.

"Yes. Many of our brothers do not understand your pilgrimage down each day. Yet I was determined to solve this mystery and I think I understand.." Brother Henri was a little too enthusiastic to think through his words carefully. "It is a noble deed to attempt to enlighten the commoners, I understand.. but I had wish to ask you, Brother Francis, why do you try to enlighten the unwilling and leave the willing?"

This caused the elder monk to pause. He looked at the young man's eyes thoughtfully, sighed, and then continued to walk onwards. "Tell me, Brother Henri," he said, "Why do you think it is I who enlightens?" He continued walking, but Henri was dumbstruck. The younger brother stood their, watching the ever descending image of Brother Francis disappear as always.

Weeks later, Brother Henri accompanied Brother Francis for the first few stretches. "I have come to understand, Brother Francis, that you have implied that it is the commoners who have enlightened you. In their simple manner, there are glimpses of greatness. This I understand. This is why we have chosen a far more simple manner to live in solitude to grasp the greatness. Do you, Brother Francis, go down to the people to remind yourself of this?"

Were he years younger, Brother Francis would have felt frustrated. Instead, he smiled sadly and beckoned his companion to walk further with him. "No, Brother Henri. I visit the people to see something we have lost." Henri stopped on the path again. He went back to the monastery to ponder some more. Again, weeks after, Brother Francis and Brother Henri found themselves in a familiar situation.

"I have thought and thought, Brother Francis, and I am puzzled. Pity a young student," Henri said solemnly. "There is but so many possibilities, yet none seem important enough to be the reason of your dedication. What have we lost, but our ability to be muddled? We have traded "

"Our passions for knowledge."

Henri paused, but he forced himself to walk on. "Yes, we have chosen our paths because of our passions for knowledge."

"No, Brother Henri. We have traded our passions for knowledge." Brother Francis smiled. "I will tell you what I see each day in town, Henri. I see people. Just the other day, I met a young woman who found she hated her fiance. She had thought he was sleeping with another woman. Her anger and depression consumed her, and she had nearly committed suicide."

How foolish, thought Henri. One only needed to think properly to realize the situation wasn't worth dying for. Brother Francis glanced at the other's frown and smiled briefly. He continued, "Then, two days later, her fiance nearly committed suicide for he had thought she did not wish to love him anymore."

It was all Henri could do from snorting in contempt.

"When each had learned of the other's drastic response to the situation, they hurried to each other's side `just to see' if their lover is safe. They were alone for a long while, so they argued and talked and argued some more. Later that day, I saw them at evening meal, holding hands..and deeply in love again. They marry today." He fell silent.

Henri continued to walk with him further than he had before, but finally, the young brother could not stand it any longer. He turned around and went back to his room to theorize. Henri never accompanied Francis again. The young monk spent most of his life deciphering Francis's message, but I don't think he ever suceeded. About two weeks before Francis' death, he murmured to himself, "We thought we could trade our hearts for a mind... when we did not understand we could have both. For all our analyzing abilities, we still don't realize we are the deprived ones."

He died on a cold winter day, caught in a blizzard on his way to town.

Copyright © 1996 Juliana Ng

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