Saint Bonaventure, one of Francis’s closest followers, tells us that when Francis reflected on the origin of all things, he was moved to call every creature—no matter how small—brother or sister. This was not sentimental language. It sprang from a genuine sense of kinship rooted in his love for God, the Creator of all.
Stories from Francis’s life make this conviction tangible. He once instructed a gardener to leave the edges of a garden untouched so that wildflowers could grow freely. Along the road, he would stop to lift small worms out of harm’s way so they would not be crushed. He preached to the birds, rescued “Brother Rabbit” from a snare, and treated even the most fragile forms of life with care and attention.
This same vision finds poetic expression in The Canticle of the Creatures. There, Francis extends the language of brotherhood and sisterhood beyond animals and plants to include the sun and the moon, fire and water, wind and earth. Each is addressed as a member of one great family, living under God’s loving providence.
For Francis, care for creation was not an optional devotion. It was a natural consequence of seeing the world as a gift and every creature as a relative. To love God, in his view, meant learning to love all that God has made.
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