The first biographer of St. Vincent de Paul was Louis Abelly, who personally worked with him when the latter started the Tuesday conferences. In his biography, he wrote about the young boy Vincent:
“He had a tender heart for the sufferings of his neighbor and was quick to help them as much as he could… It was noticed that he gave what he could to the poor.
“Whenever his father sent him to the mill to collect the flour, and he met a poor person along the way and had nothing else to give, he would open the sack and give the poor man handfuls of flour. We are told that his father, a good man, would not object to this.
“Another time, when about twelve or thirteen years old, he had saved some thirty sous from different jobs. At the time, and in the country district where money was scarce, this was regarded as no small sum. However, upon meeting a poor destitute person along the road, he felt moved with compassion and gave away every bit of his small treasure.”
Then the biographer concludes: “If we pay close attention to what attracts young people, we can form a judgment about their future dispositions.”
Abelly was, of course, writing a biography for someone whom his followers wanted to be raised to the altars. His project was a hagiography, a life story which most often idealizes one’s subject. There were also historical demythologizers who dismiss these narratives as figments of imagination “on the part of worthy peasants wanting to boost their saint.”
But without denying the truth of these narratives, to conclude from the young boy’s actions a sign of ultimate sanctity already present in the young Vincent could also be misleading.
We can only imagine that to live in those times of rural medieval France, young children mimicked the generosity and piety of their parents and the world around them. In fact, there were accounts of the young shepherd Vincent frequenting the old sanctuary of Our Lady of Bouglouse or placing the image of Mary in the hollow of an oak tree nearby.
If Vincent was generous and kind at a young age, it was an act of “everyday kindness” that was naturally expected of children around them, not necessarily signs of ultimate holiness found in saints.
In his old age, St. Vincent’s spirituality was in deep and real solidarity with the poor.
He said: “When we go to visit the poor we should so identify with them that we share their sufferings… We must open our hearts so that they become responsive to the sufferings and miseries of the neighbor, and pray continually that God may grant us that spirit of compassion which is truly the spirit of God.”
Or, in another instance, he told the Daughters of Charity: “If you must leave prayer to attend the sick, leave it, and as you leave God in prayer, you will find God with the sick.”
This deep identification between God and the poor did not yet exist in the consciousness and spirituality of the young Vincent.
But like many of us who, despite our weaknesses, are trying our best to be kind and humane, we can identify with him when St. Vincent later told his companions: “I welcome joyfully any opportunity that comes my way to be of service to you.”
Such is the challenge to everyday kindness and compassion.
The late Pope Francis said: “A little bit of mercy makes the world less cold and more just.”
Father Daniel Franklin Pilario, C.M., is the President of Adamson University in Manila. He is a theologian, professor, and pastor of an urban poor community on the outskirts of the Philippine capital. He is also the Vincentian Chair for Social Justice at St. John’s University in New York.
