When his mother dies, the monks adopt the infant who grows to be seven-year-old Pablito Calva, a good-hearted but often disobedient boy. Tell him not to turn over rocks, and he will, earning a scorpion's sting. Tell him not to go into the room up the rickety stairs, and he will. When he finds a crucifix, he steals bread, and later wine, and offers it to the figure on the Cross, who comes down, eats and drinks what is offered, and talks to the youngster.
It's a charming little fable about the kindliness of small children and their faith. I am grown into a sour old man, alas, who has little sense of faith about anything, and think most children lack any kindness, but are concerned about themselves; yet I also have an old man's sentimentality, and this certainly touched mine, not just for Calvo with his wide eyes and big smile, but for the monks, at a loss dealing with the world and a small boy.
It's a charming little fable about the kindliness of small children and their faith. I am grown into a sour old man, alas, who has little sense of faith about anything, and think most children lack any kindness, but are concerned about themselves; yet I also have an old man's sentimentality, and this certainly touched mine, not just for Calvo with his wide eyes and big smile, but for the monks, at a loss dealing with the world and a small boy.