Tomie DePaola
The Clown of God
By Tomie dePaola
Many, many years ago, in Sorrento…..
…..there lived a small boy named Giovanni who had no mother and no
father. He dressed in rags and begged his bread and slept in
doorways.
But he was happy, and he could do something wonderful.
He could juggle. Every day he would go to Signor Baptista’s fruit
and vegetable stall and juggle.
He would juggle lemons and oranges, apples and eggplants, and even
zucchini.
Crowds would gather to watch, and when Giovanni had finished, they
would buy from Signor Baptista. Then Signor Baptista’s wife would
give Giovanni a bowl of hot soup.
It was a very good arrangement.
One day a troupe of traveling players came to town, and Giovanni
watched as Arlecchino and Colombina, in their beautiful clothes,
danced and sang.
“Oh,” Giovanni said to himself, “that is the life for me!”
So when the play was over, Giovanni went and spoke to the Maestro.
“No, no,” said the Maestro. “I have no need for a ragamuffin. Go beg your bread somewhere else.”
“But I could be very helpful,” pleaded Giovanni. “I could help
unpack and pack up. I could take care of the donkey. And,
Maestro,” added Giovanni, “I can juggle!”
“Not bad,” said the Maestro, watching.
“With a bit more training and practice… All right! But no money.
A place to sleep, the companionship of the finest players in Italy,
and a bowl of noodles. That’s all.”
“Brazie, Signor,” said Giovanni.
“Go get your things. We leave in an hour,” said the Maestro.
And so Giovanni said good-bye to Signor and Signora Baptista and
became a traveling player.
Not long after, the Maestro gave him a costume and Giovanni juggled
for the crowds.
He would put on a clown’s face, step out from the curtain before
the play began, bow, open up a colorful bag, roll out a carpet, and begin.
He would juggle sticks.
Plates.
Then he would balance the plates on the sticks and twirl them.
He would juggle clubs, rings, and burning torches.
Finally he would toss a red ball and an orange ball. Then a yellow
ball.
A green, a blue, and a violet ball until it looked as if he were
juggling the rainbow.
“And now for the Sun in the Heavens!” he would cry. Still
juggling, he would pick up a shining golden ball and toss it higher
and higher, faster and faster. And how the crowds would cheer!
Giovanni became very famous, and it wasn’t long before he said good-
bye to the traveling troupe and set off on his own.
Up and down Italy he traveled, and although his costume became more
beautiful, he always kept the face of a clown.
Once he juggled for a duke.
Once for a prince!
And it was always the same.
First the sticks, then plates, then the clubs, rings, and burning
torches.
Finally the rainbow of colored balls.
“And now for the Sun in the Heavens,” he would shout, and the
golden ball would fly higher and higher and the crowds would laugh
and clap and cheer.
One day, between two towns, Giovanni was sitting in the shade of a
tree, eating a lunch of bread and cheese. Two Little Brothers came
down the road.
“Will you share your food with us, good clown,” they asked, “for the love of God and the blessings of our Brother Francis?”
“Sit down, good fellows,” Giovanni said. “There is more than
enough.”
As the three men ate, the two Little Brothers told Giovanni how they
went from town to town, begging their food and spreading the joy of
God.
“Our founder, Brother Francis, says that everything sings of the
glory of God. Even your juggling,” said one of the brothers.
“That’s well and good for men like you, but I only juggle to make
people laugh and applaud,” Giovanni said.
“It’s the same thing,” the brothers said. “If you give
happiness to people, you give glory to God as well.”
“If you say so!” said Giovanni, laughing. “But now I must be off
to the next Town. Arrivederci, good brothers—and good luck!”
And wherever Giovanni went, the air was filled with his flying
sticks and plates, his clubs and rings and torches. And, always,
his rainbow of balls and “the Sun in the Heavens.”
And wherever Giovanni went, the faces of the crowds would be all
smiles, and the sound of laughter and cheers would ring through the
towns.
Years passed.
Giovanni grew old and times became hard.
People no longer stopped to watch.
“It’s only the old clown who juggles things. We’ve all seen him
before,” they said.
Giovanni was sad, but still he juggled until one day he dropped
“the Sun in the Heavens,” and the rainbow of balls came crashing
down and the crowd stood around him and laughed! But not from joy.
Then they did a terrible thing.
They threw vegetables and stones at Giovanni, so that he had to run
for his life.
Besides a stream, Giovanni took off his clown face. He put away his
sticks and his plates, his clubs and rings and colored balls. He
put away his costume, and he gave up juggling forever.
What little money he had soon was gone, and his clothes became rags
and he begged his bread and slept in doorways as he had done as a
child. “It’s time to go home,” the old man said wearily. And he
headed back to Sorrento.
It was a cold winter night when he finally arrived. The wind blew
hard, and an icy rain was falling. Up ahead loomed the monastery
church of the Little Brothers. The windows were in darkness. Wet
and cold, old Giovanni crept inside and fell in a heap in a corner.
Soon he was asleep.
It was the music that woke him up. The church was blazing with
candlelight and filled with people, singing, “Gloria! Gloria!”
Giovanni could scarcely believe his eyes. So much beauty. A long
procession of brothers, priests, sisters, and townspeople. All
carrying beautiful gifts, was winding its way through the church.
They placed their gifts in front of a statue—of a lady and her child.
“What is all this?” asked old Giovanni of someone standing near.
“Why, old man, it’s the birthday of the Holy Child,” the woman said.
“It’s the procession of the gifts.”
Giovanni watched in amazement until the singing was over. Then the
church emptied of all the people and was darkened except for the
bright candles surrounding the Lady and the Child.
Giovanni moved closer. The Child in the Lady’s arms seemed so
serious, so stern.
“Oh, Lady,” said Giovanni. “I wish I had something to offer,
too. Your child seems so sad, even with all these beautiful gifts.
But wait—I used to make people smile.”
Giovanni opened his bag and shook out his old costume. Then he put
on his clown face, bowed, rolled out the little rug, and began to
juggle.
First the sticks. Then the plates.
Next he twirled the plates on the sticks.
And then the clubs and rings…
The Brother Sexton, who was coming in to lock the doors, saw
Giovanni juggling. He was horrified.
“Father Master,” he cried, rushing off to get the priest.
“A sacrilege. Come quickly!”
But Giovanni didn’t hear or notice him.
“And now,” said Giovanni, smiling at the face of the Child,
“First the red ball, then the orange…
“Next the yellow…
“And the green, blue, and violet.”
Around and up they went until they looked like a rainbow.
“And finally,” cried Giovanni, “the Sun in the Heaven!”
The gold ball flew up and around and around, higher and higher.
Giovanni had never juggled so well in all his life.
Higher and higher, faster and faster. A blaze of color filled the
air. It was magnificent!
Giovanni’s heart was pounding.
“For You, sweet Child, for You!” he cried.
Then suddenly, his old heart stopped. And Giovanni fell dead to the
floor.
The priest and Brother Sexton came rushing in. Stooping over old
Giovanni, the priest said, “Why, the poor clown is dead. May his
soul rest in peace.”
But the Brother Sexton backed away, and with his mouth wide open, he
stared at the statue of the Lady and her Holy Child.
“Oh, Father,” he said, pointing. “Oh, Father, look!”
The Child was smiling, and in His hand He held the golden ball.
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