Saint Carla of Assisi

From Perugia we went on a small excursion to Assisi. Something about the city felt very sacred and magical. It may have been the interior of the Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi, or the way the sun was setting behind it, or the following story:

As we were walking down the narrow pathways in the city, we all spotted a tiny gray bird flapping its wings desperately, not able to fly. We all felt sorry for it and wished there was something we could do, but the situation seemed pretty hopeless. Carla (the one who has to prevent herself from ducking and shrieking every time a bird flies above her head) was the first to jump into action and bent down to pick the bird up.

We walked around the city, Carla cradling this bird in her hands, trying to figure out where to put it, getting plenty of strange looks from people on the street. We finally took it to a place beside a church where a steep incline led out to a field of trees, and beyond it the hills. The poor bird attempted to fly a few times and kept flopping down to the ground. We could all barely look as Carla held the bird above the steep drop, fearing the worst.

The little bird forced itself out of her hands and seemed to be plummeting straight down before it caught the wind and zoomed up. A few more dives and catches and soon the little bird was flying, soaring into the sunset in the distant mountains. This was such a beautiful moment, like a scene from a movie, we expected music to start playing or people to start cheering.

Only later did we find out that St. Francis is the patron saint of animals, and is frequently pictured with birds...