My dear mother, Irene, thought it would be a great idea to give me a confirmation name. She chose Francis after the famous Saint Francis of Assisi, the guy who is always pictured feeding birds by hand while squirrels play around his feet.
I was 14 when my friends started calling me Francis the Sissy and brought me bags of birdseed.
I was not the toughest of kids. I was more the sensitive type whose feelings could be fractured in a heartbeat. I blamed my mother for my misfortune (kind of reminds me of the country song “A Boy Named Sue”).
Years later, I learned more about the background of my patron saint. I think he showed unbelievable courage.
At 76, I’m proud that one of my many names (Donald Duffy Michael Francis Kuhl) is Francis. I feed the birds that fly into our yard. I enjoy watching our squirrels tease our shepherds. On occasion, I’d like my friends to call me Francis.
So far, I have no takers.