In prison, I came to the lowest level of poverty. I possessed nothing, which made me look in a new light at this verse- ‘Rob not the poor, because he is poor. Neither oppress the afflicted in the gate’ (Proverbs 22:22).

Do not rob the poor of his only wealth, that precious jewel, poverty itself. St. Francis of Assisi spoke about ‘sorella poverta,” sister poverty. Ascetics and saints of all ages have abandoned earthly joys for this valuable friend. Moses preferred the poor life of a pastor to being grandson of Pharaoh. Buddha left his father’s palaces to know the serenity which only utter poverty can give. Christ, possessor of heaven, chose birth in a stable, life as a carpenter among oppressed people and death among thieves on a cross. He said, ‘Blessed be ye, poor, for yours is the kingdom of God’ (Luke 6:20)

With what right do I take away the source of a man’s blessedness? If I deprive him of poverty, I deprive him of the Kingdom of heaven. Imagine how it would have been had the rich man of the parable (Luke 16:19-31) been what is usually called good-hearted and divided with poor Lazarus his purple robes and fine linen, and invited him to dine sumptuously with him every day. He would have called Lazarus into future hell.

Poverty is the entryway to the kingdom of heaven. The ugly embryonic stage when we look like frogs and apes is the prologue to manhood. Destroy a caterpillar because it is a repugnant worm and you will have destroyed the future butterfly. Taking away a man’s poverty, we take from him the source of eternal happiness.

But must we not help the poor? We surely must-by sharing his poverty, by demonstrating our regard for his high estate. Mother Theresa of Calcutta set an example. By sharing the experience of poverty, a poor man is given the sense of his dignity before God and other men, whereas a few pennies thrown to him degrade him.

We commonly confound the unpleasant with the bad. Poverty is unpleasant, but it is a Christian’s trial of love.

Before I went to prison, my own social and material situation was very comfortable. In moments of self-examination, I asked myself whether I really loved God or loved rather the many outward and inner gifts with which He had endowed me. Then, in solitary confinement, hungry, trembling for cold, without even shoes-then I could really check whether I loved God or His gifts. How I rejoiced to discover that songs of praise were few from my lips under those circumstances! The faith had been tried.

Christians do not fear hunger and would not readily rob the poor man of this experience. For Jesus says even to the rich, who are familiar with black caviar and other dainties, ‘I have meat to eat that ye know not of (John 4:32). The angel Raphael said to Tobit in the apocryphal book of this name (12:19), ‘ It seemed, truly, as if I ate and drank with you. But I used an invisible meat and a beverage which men cannot see.’ The meat of the angels , of which men also can partake, consists in seeing God, in loving Him even in times of affliction, and in doing His will in all things.