In the year 1223, Saint Francis of Assisi was a tired man and a much loved one across Italy. He was coming back from Rome, where Pope Honorius III had approved the Rule for his friars, and he stopped in a village called Greccio. Greccio sits high above the valley of Rieti, with the woods beginning just behind the houses. Christmas was only days away, and Francis had carried an idea in his heart for a long time.

In that region lived a man named John, who owned land and an important name, and had chosen to live simply. Francis was especially fond of him, and about fifteen days before Christmas he sent for him.

— If you would like to keep the feast of the Lord with me at Greccio, go ahead of me and carefully prepare what I ask — said Francis. — I want to make a memory of the child born in Bethlehem, and to see with my own eyes how he was laid in a manger, on the hay, with an ox and a donkey standing by.

John listened, hurried off and made everything ready.

The Night Came

At last Christmas night arrived. Friars came from many places, and the men and women of those mountains came too, each carrying a candle or a burning torch. They climbed the forest path with the little lights in their hands, and from far off it looked as though the stars had come down to walk among the trees.

Up at the top everything was ready, exactly as Francis had asked. A manger, with real hay inside it. An ox on one side, a donkey on the other, breathing in the cold. There was no decoration at all: only straw, animals and people. Brother Thomas of Celano, who wrote the story down a few years later, said that simplicity was honoured that night, poverty was lifted high, and Greccio was made into a new Bethlehem.

The night turned bright as day. The woods gave the voices back, the rocks echoed them, and the friars sang praises to God. Francis stood before the manger, and those who saw him said he sighed for gladness.

Mass Over the Manger

Then they celebrated Mass right there, with the altar set above the manger. Francis was a deacon, so he put on a deacon's robe and sang the Gospel in a strong, clear voice. Then he spoke to the people around him about the poor King who was born in the poor town of Bethlehem.

When he named the Child, Francis could hardly say plain "Jesus". He called him "the babe of Bethlehem", and the word Bethlehem came out slowly, like a sweet he did not want to finish.

Brother Thomas of Celano tells us that a good man standing there then saw something the others did not see. Tradition says it was John. He saw a little child lying still in the manger, as if lifeless, and saw Francis come near and wake him from a deep sleep. Celano explained that the vision made good sense: in many hearts the child Jesus had been forgotten, and that night he was waking up again.

What Stayed Behind

When the night was over, everyone went home happy. The hay from the manger was kept, and people of that countryside said that sick animals who ate some of it grew well again. Later an altar was built over the place of the manger, and a church was dedicated there, which stands to this day.

And Francis's idea did not stop at Greccio. It came down the mountain, crossed Italy, crossed the sea and reached the whole world. Your own small nativity scene, of cardboard or clay or wood, the one your family sets up in December, is a grandchild of that cold night in 1223.