“Where there is hatred, let me sow love.”

An Instrument of Quiet Grace

In 1912, a simple, anonymous poem appeared in a small French spiritual magazine called La Clochette. It was not written in the 13th century, and it was never spoken by a barefoot friar in Assisi. Yet during the dark, heavy days of the First World War, this poem was printed on the back of a holy card featuring the image of Saint Francis. The world read it, and from that moment on, it became universally known as the Peace Prayer of Saint Francis.

He didn’t write the words, but they were attributed to him because they perfectly captured the exact frequency of his life. He was a man who understood how to actively color blessings into existence, bringing the invisible divine down into the physical world and creating a holy union wherever he walked.

That history holds a beautiful, grounding truth for us today.

The prayer does not ask us to change the entire world; it simply asks us to become an instrument of peace right where we are. When the morning is still, before the heaviness of the world rises, and the only sound is the gentle rustle of the morning salutations, we realize that being an instrument of peace starts with quieting our own lives.

To live this prayer is to drop the heavy armor . The second half of the poem holds the secret to a simple, unmasked life: Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love.

When we stop and listen to the gratitude in the seemingly smallest of things, we finally have the quiet energy to truly see others. When we stop demanding that the world understand our past, we can finally offer the weightless wash of grace to the present. We do not need to perform. We simply need to be a safe harbor, a grounded presence, and a quiet anchor for the people and the animals who share our sanctuary.

Peace is not something we have to forcefully construct. It is something we allow to flow through us when we finally open our hands and forgive ourselves.

The quiet is waiting. Take a slow breath, step away from the noise, and let yourself be an instrument of grace today.

Osvaldo Calixto Amador

In 1912, a simple, anonymous poem appeared in a small French spiritual magazine called La Clochette. It was not written in the 13th century, and it was never spoken by a barefoot friar in Assisi. Yet during the dark, heavy days of the First World War, this poem was printed on the back of a holy card featuring the image of Saint Francis. The world read it, and from that moment on, it became universally known as the Peace Prayer of Saint Francis.