Saint Grammar

In ancient times, on one of the hills of Gascony, there stood a small village called Saint-Gramaire, named after Saint Gramaire. Every year, the peasants joyfully celebrated the day of their "patron saint." And why not? Why not have a bit of fun? A week before the feast, the parishioners would start cleaning their humble little church: washing, scrubbing, polishing, and decorating it with garlands of paper flowers.

One day, while dusting, the sexton accidentally bumped into the statue of Saint Gramaire and broke off its arm. What to do? The priest and the sexton decided to remove the statue, hide it at the edge of the village near the bean field, and on the day of the feast, replace it with the village blacksmith, who looked exactly like Saint Gramaire.

For ten gold écus, the blacksmith agreed to climb into the niche where the statue usually stood and remain motionless throughout the morning service.

In the morning, the church was packed with people. The blacksmith stood in the niche, not moving a muscle. But, as luck would have it, he had treated himself to some honey that morning and forgot to wipe his lips. Suddenly, a fly appeared out of nowhere: buzzing, circling, and biting—it was unbearable! The blacksmith began to move his lips slightly to shoo away the persistent fly.

Perhaps no one would have noticed, had it not been for an old grandmother and her granddaughter among the parishioners. The grandmother was nearly blind, but the granddaughter immediately noticed that Saint Gramaire's lips were moving. She was utterly astonished and nudged her grandmother with her elbow:

"Grandma, look! The saint is moving his lips!"

"Hush, silly girl! You don't know what you're talking about," the grandmother scolded her.

The granddaughter fell silent but kept her eyes fixed on the saint... Sure enough, his lips were moving!

"Look, Grandma..." she whispered again. "He really is moving his lips..."

This time, the old woman said nothing but peered more closely at the saint. And suddenly, it seemed to her that his lips were indeed moving.

"Holy, holy!... Am I imagining things in my old age? Let me prick his leg with a needle..."

She approached the "Gramaire" and jabbed him with the needle! The blacksmith howled in pain, jumped out of the niche, and, pushing through the crowd, ran home in his holy vestments. The parishioners saw this astonishing miracle and stood frozen with their mouths agape: the saint had been there, but now he was gone!

When they recovered, they began to whisper, exchange glances, and wink at each other. And what about the priest? At first, he was bewildered, realizing that his trick had failed, and he was quite angry. But angry or not, he had to find a way out. And what do you think? He found a solution, the sly one!

He looked at the agitated parishioners, squinted, and rained down heavenly thunder upon their heads. He recalled all their sins and transgressions over the past ten years and explained that Saint Gramaire had fled because of their wicked deeds. The peasants fell silent, and the priest said:

"We will perish without his help if he leaves us. So let us go, brothers, and search for him, and once we find him, we will beg him to return."

"Let's go, let's go!" the parishioners shouted and rushed to the door.

But then the priest raised his hands and cried out at the top of his voice:

"Where shall we find you, Saint Gramaire?"

And in response, the melodious tenor of the sexton, hidden behind the altar, was heard:

"Look for me in the bean field! In the bean field!"

The parishioners rushed to the bean field and indeed found the statue of the saint there, but alas, with its arm broken off.

"But what happened to his arm?" a peasant timidly asked the priest.

The priest looked at him sternly:

"How foolish you are, brother!" he said. "He didn't just leave us; he ran off to fight with other saints to defend you sinners from their attacks. That's how his arm got broken in the fight. Understand?..."

What's there to argue? Only a fool wouldn't understand.

↑ To the top

Saint Grammar

More fairy tales