Our Lady’s Little Juggler – Full Story

Young Barnaby was a juggler. That was his profession, and he was quite good at it. His father before him had been a juggler, and so had his grandpa. His father had taught him how to juggle and how to dance, how to tumble and how to sing. Barnaby had loved to watch his father performing in the streets of Paris, and there were times when they were very merry together. In those days, they had even traveled the land together, amusing people high and low. Sometimes they juggled in the market places, sometimes in local fairs. But their best days were when they performed for special feast days and weddings. Then people were most generous and showered copper and silver coins on their little worn rug. But when Barnaby was about ten years old, something very sad happened — his father died. Now, you can imagine how terrible that was to young Barnaby. But Barnaby was a brave little fellow, and life had to go on. And, he now had to earn his own bread every day. He would continue to do as his father had taught him, wherever he was welcome. So, he gathered up the little treasures his father had left him — his two sticks, a couple of hoops, some brightly colored balls, and some apples. These he wrapped up in the old rug, which he strapped to his shoulders like a turtle’s shell. Then he set off to find some work. Barnaby set out every morning for the town, spread out his rug and leaped, danced, and juggled as best as he knew how. People stopped to watch his tricks, and laughed and smiled. Young as Barnaby was, he had been taught his trade very well indeed. While spring flowered into summer, Barnaby tramped all over the countryside to earn his daily bread. The sky was his roof at night, and during the day people were kind to him. All went well until winter began to creep in. The warm breezes turned into chilly blasts, and fewer and fewer people stopped to watch the little juggler on his mat. People hugged their warm cloaks and hurried past Barnaby without even a glance. His little purse of coins grew thinner and thinner until, at last, it was totally empty. One day, Barnaby sat shivering and lonely at the foot of a big oak tree, trying in vain to keep back his tears. Snowflakes fell all around him in silent piles, and the cold seemed to freeze even his thoughts. Just then, he heard a muffled step and, looking up, saw a monk looking down at him. “Where is your home, young boy?” he asked Barnaby kindly. Barnaby stared down at his frozen toes and shook his head miserably. “Would you like to come with me?” the monk asked him. “Come, you will be warm.” So it happened that Barnaby found a new home. For the next few weeks, he was kept warm and well-fed in the abbey kitchen. Now Christmas was fast approaching. The monks were preparing gifts to present to the Infant Jesus and His Mother on Christmas Eve and were very busy. Brother John was composing a new chant as a gift, for which Brother Matthew was writing lyrics. Brother James was carving a gorgeous new manger, and Brother Juniper polished the altar candlesticks until they gleamed like the sun. Other monks were working on beautiful manuscripts, and still others painted lovely frescoes for the little abbey chapel which enthroned a statue of Our Lady and the Christ Child. Barnaby, watching the monks as they worked, grew increasingly sad. “Oh, how worthless I am,” he cried to himself, “What right have I to stay here in this abbey when I don’t know how to do anything useful? I don’t even know how to pray right!” With these sad thoughts, he hung his head and cried. One day, while the monks were attending Mass in the abbey church, Barnaby knelt in the chapel and stared up at the statue. “Oh, sweet Virgin,” he sighed, “how can I serve you as do the others?” Suddenly, the bells of the church began to peel and great lovely waves of sound filled the air. Barnaby jumped up in excitement. “Oh!” he cried, “I know what I can do for you, Blessed Mother. Watch me!!” He spread his thin rug on the floor before the statue. Then he laid out his two sticks, his hoops, his balls, and his apples. He gave a deep bow, then suddenly began to leap and tumble in the air. He gave great somersaults, forward, backward, and sideways. He grabbed his sticks and hoops and tossed them in the air at all angles... ...watch the video to learn more! America Needs Fatima is a campaign to capture the heart and soul of America with the Message of Our Lady of Fatima. In 1917, Our Lady asked for prayer, penance and other measures to avoid chastisement of suffering, famines, and wars. She also promised that: “Finally, my Immaculate Heart will triumph.”