I met Father Charbel in the summer of 1897 when I was 24. Back then, we used to visit our friends in the mountains during the summer vacations. High mountains were devoid of hotels and paved roads, difficult to access by car. Horses and donkeys were our means of transportation. 

That year, my friend Shukri Beik Arqash returned from Paris, after graduating from Law School. We decided together to visit Beshara Al-Khazen's house in Mayruba. We traveled through Al-Akura and Al-Laqluq, through the mountains. Then we went down to Uwainy and headed towards the hermitage of Saints Peter and Paul. 

There, we stopped to rest under an oak. It was evident that people were here a few days ago, probably seeking the blessing of the hermit. While our guide was cooking dinner, a monk, tall and thin, came from the fields. He was holding a sickle and a load of grass in his hands. He greeted us discreetly, head down. We asked him for permission to rest and eat, which he granted us. He then proceeded to offer us water and grapes, without uttering a single word. When we invited him to join us, he apologized with much softness, stammering, "Thank you; I already ate at the convent."

From his short conversation with my friend Shukri Beik, this is what I remember: " It is God who created us, it is God who takes care of us. He is the Almighty, and if we live well, if is by no merit from our part. May God be with you." When we described to him the breathtakingly beautiful landscape, from mountain to far sea, extending beyond what the eye can see, the hermit replied: "Lebanon is a gift from God. This place is a heavenly glorification of His Holy name. All we own, all we have, is His." 

He tactfully declined the gifts we offered him, but he listened with much interest to Shukri describing the work of hermits and devouts in France, saying: "France is the eldest daughter of the church."

At that moment, the bell of the nearby St. Maron convent announced the Angelus; I requested from the hermit to pray the Annunciation, followed by the litany of the Virgin and the prayer of adoration to Mary. Gathered, on our knees, we repeated the prayers after him. He sang in a soft voice, his head wrapped in his hood, bent to the earth. His eyes were shut, he looked like an angel carried by the Spirit to Heaven. 

When our time to resume travel came, the hermit stood by us modestly, eyes gazing straight into Heaven, hands crossed on his chest, and said quietly: "May God accompany you." 

Shukri never stopped talking about the hermit. He kept saying, "These hermits on the mountains, in their purity and kindness, are the secret of Lebanon."

Saint Charbel, give us a welcoming heart, wide open to our fellow man and the unexpected visitor, just like yours. In Jesus' name, Amen.