When I attended Franciscan University of Steubenville the household I joined was one of only two on campus that allowed each member to choose their own household patron (as opposed to other households that had an overall household patron). During formation, I was tasked with much prayer and discernment to ask for insight on which saint to choose. During that time I remembered something my mama used to tell me: you don’t choose saints to have devotion to, they choose you.
I’ve always had a special love for St. Rose of Lima, St. Francis Assisi, and Padre Pio so naturally I thought I should choose one of them for my patron. As I was studying St. Rose’s story, she happened to lead me to a dear friend of hers, St. Martin de Porres. For many weeks of my formation he kept popping up while I was researching the other saints I’ve already mentioned because he had similar stories of bilocation (like Padre Pio), communicating with and saving animals (like Francis) and was close friends with St. Rose, living just across town from her.
I tried to ignore him because I was stubbornly set on choosing St. Rose, but she gently kept guiding me back to him until it was undeniable that he was choosing me. I began to study him more and more and fell completely in love with his story. He was an outcast because he was biracial, the son of a spanish soldier and latina woman, and neither culture would claim him. This caused many hardships as he was trying to follow God’s call to be a Dominican. Eventually he was accepted into the monastery but only as a servant, a role which he was overjoyed to accept.
My favorite story happened before he entered the monastery. He was a barber and the town pharmacist, and a mother brought him her young son who had cut nearly all his fingers off while collecting sugar cane for his family. When Martin asked why they had faith that he could be healed, the boy said he was going to be a priest but he wouldn’t be able to hold the Lord’s Body without working hands. Martin prayed over the boy and said if it was really God’s will that he be a priest, he would be capable. Years passed and Martin was on a picnic with his fellow Dominicans when one of the seminarians looked at him and said, “You don’t remember me, do you?” Martin didn’t remember him and asked where they had met. The seminarian held up his perfectly formed hands and Martin recalled the boy he’d prayed for so many years prior, who would soon be ordained a priest.
There are so many beautiful and touching stories about St. Martin, I encourage you to research him yourself and perhaps come to love “the saint of the broom” as much as I do.
St. Martin De Porres, pray for us!
Cuando asistí a la Universidad Franciscana de Steubenville, el hogar al que me uní era uno de los dos únicos en el campus que permitían a cada miembro elegir a su propio santo patrón (a diferencia de otros hogares que tenían un patrón general). Durante mi formación, me encargaron mucha oración y discernimiento para pedir consejo sobre cuál santo elegir. Durante ese tiempo recordé algo que mi madre solía decirme: uno no elige a los santos para tener devoción, ellos te eligen a ti.
Siempre he tenido un cariño especial por Santa Rosa de Lima, San Francisco de Asis y el Padre Pío, así que, naturalmente, pensé que debía elegir a uno de ellos como mi patrón. Mientras estudiaba la historia de Santa Rosa, ella me condujo a un querido amigo suyo, San Martín de Porres. Durante muchas semanas de mi formación, él seguía apareciendo mientras investigaba a los otros santos que ya he mencionado, porque tenía historias semejantes de bilocación (como el Padre Pío), de comunicarse con animales y salvarlos (como Francisco de Asis), y era muy amigo de Santa Rosa, que vivía muy cerca de él.
Intenté ignorarlo e insistía tercamente en elegir a Santa Rosa, pero ella, con delicadeza, me guiaba de vuelta hacia él hasta que fue innegable que él me estaba eligiendo a mí. Empecé a estudiarlo cada vez más y me enamoré por completo de su historia. Era rechazado por ser birracial, hijo de un soldado español y una mujer latina, y ninguna de las dos culturas lo quería. Esto le causó muchas dificultades mientras intentaba seguir el llamado de Dios a ser dominico. Finalmente, fue aceptado en el monasterio, pero solo como sirviente, un rol que aceptó con gran alegría.
Mi historia favorita ocurrió antes de entrar al monasterio. Era peluquero y farmacéutico del pueblo, y una madre le trajo a su hijo pequeño, quien se había cortado casi todos los dedos mientras recogía caña de azúcar para su familia. Cuando Martín preguntó por qué tenían fe en que se podría sanar, el niño dijo que iba a ser sacerdote, pero que no podría sostener el Cuerpo del Cristo sin manos completas. Martín oró por el niño y dijo que si realmente era la voluntad de Dios que fuera sacerdote, sería capaz de hacerlo.
Pasaron los años y Martín estaba de picnic con sus compañeros dominicos cuando uno de los seminaristas lo miró y le dijo: “¿No te acuerdas de mí?”. Martín no lo recordaba y le preguntó dónde se habían conocido. El seminarista levantó sus manos perfectamente formadas y Martín recordó al niño por el que había rezado hace tantos años, quien pronto sería ordenado sacerdote.
Hay tantas historias hermosas y conmovedoras sobre San Martín; los animo a investigarlo por sí mismos y quizás lleguen a amar al “santo de la escoba” tanto como yo.
San Martín de Porres, ¡ruega por nosotros!
Lily is a Michigan native and cradle Catholic who has spent most of her life exploring her own reasons to embrace her faith fully. She attended Franciscan University of Steubenville, where she discovered the beauty of her personal relationship with Christ and the Church. After college, she worked in Montessori Education for three years and recently transitioned to nannying. She was recently married and spends most of her time reading, and enjoying her dog and family!
Feature Image Credit: Unknown Artist, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martin_de_Porres
The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.
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