The Wolf That Stole a Loaf

“We found another equally remarkable man living in a small hut that could hold only one person. We were told that a she-wolf used to stand beside him at his dinner, and that the beast could hardly ever be fooled into missing the regular hour when he took his meal. It was also said that the wolf waited at the door until he offered her the bread left over from his own humble dinner; that she used to lick his hand; and that then, her duty as it were done and her respects paid to him, she would go away. [a]

“But it happened that the holy man, while escorting a brother who had visited him on his way home, was away a fairly long time and did not get back until nightfall. Meanwhile the beast appeared at the usual dinnertime. Going into the empty cell and seeing that her benefactor was not there, she began to search around the hut with some curiosity, to find the occupant if she could. Now it happened that a basket of palm twigs was hanging close by with five loaves of bread in it. The beast took one of these and devoured it, and then, having committed this crime, went on her way. When the recluse came back, he found the basket in disorder and fewer loaves than there should have been. He saw the loss of his household goods, and near the threshold he noticed some pieces of the stolen loaf. Considering all this, he had little doubt who the thief was.

“So when, on the following days, the beast did not come to him as usual (no doubt hesitating, out of awareness of her bold deed, to come to the one she had wronged), the recluse was deeply grieved at losing the happiness he had found in her company. At last, brought back by his prayers, she came to him at dinnertime as usual, after seven days had passed. But she made her shame plain to everyone, out of regret for what she had done: she did not dare come very close, and with her eyes cast down to the ground in deep humiliation she seemed, as anyone could clearly see, to be begging for pardon in a way of her own. The recluse, pitying her confusion, told her to come close to him and stroked her head with a kindly hand. And by giving her two loaves instead of the usual one, he restored the guilty creature to her former place; and she, laying aside her misery now that she had been forgiven, went back to her old habits.

“See, I beg you, the power of Christ even in this case, to whom everything without reason is wise and everything savage by nature is gentle. A wolf performs a duty; a wolf admits the crime of theft; a wolf is overcome with shame. When called, she comes; she offers her head to be stroked; and she understands the pardon given to her, just as if she felt shame for her misconduct. This is your power, O Christ; these, O Christ, are your marvelous works. For truly, whatever your servants do in your name are your doings. And in this alone do we find cause for the deepest grief: that while wild beasts acknowledge your majesty, beings endowed with reason fail to revere you.