There was once a hermit who lived in a forest at the foot of a mountain. He spent his days in prayer and good works. Every evening, to the glory of God, he carried two pails of water up the mountain. Many beasts drank from it, and many plants were refreshed, for a strong wind continually dried the heights. Because he was so pious, an angel of God, visible to his eyes, accompanied him, counted his steps, and brought him food when his work was done.
When the hermit was very old, he once saw from afar a poor sinner being taken to the gallows. He carelessly said to himself, "There, that one is getting his deserts!" That evening, the angel did not appear and brought him no food. The hermit was terrified. He searched his heart, trying to think how he had sinned, but could not discover it. He neither ate nor drank, threw himself on the ground, and prayed day and night.
One day, as he wept bitterly in the forest, he heard a little bird singing beautifully. He was troubled and said, "How joyously you sing; the Lord is not angry with you. Ah, if you could but tell me how I have offended Him, that I might do penance, then my heart would be glad again." The bird spoke: "You have done injustice by condemning a poor sinner led to the gallows. For that, the Lord is angry. He alone sits in judgement. However, if you do penance and repent, He will forgive you."
Then the angel stood beside him with a dry branch and said, "Carry this dry branch until three green twigs sprout from it. At night, lay it under your head. Beg your bread from door to door, and do not stay more than one night in the same house. That is your penance."
The hermit took the wood and returned to the world he had not seen for so long. He ate and drank only what was given at the doors, but many petitions were ignored, and many doors remained shut, so he often went without a crumb of bread.
Once, after begging from morning till night with no success and no shelter, he went into a forest and found a cave where an old woman lived. He asked to stay the night. She refused, fearing her three wicked, wild sons who were robbers. "If they find you," she said, "they would kill us both." The hermit persuaded her, and she compassionately agreed. He lay down beneath the stairs, placing the wood under his head. The woman asked why, and he told her his story of sin and penance. She wept and cried, "If the Lord thus punishes one single word, how will it fare with my sons when they appear before Him in judgement?"
At midnight, the robbers came home, blustering and storming. They made a fire, saw the man under the stairs, and fell into a rage. "Who is this man?" they cried to their mother. "Have we not forbidden anyone to be taken in?" The mother said, "Let him be. He is a poor sinner expiating his crime." The robbers asked, "What has he done?" "Old man," they cried, "tell us your sins." The old man raised himself and told them his story. The robbers were so powerfully touched that they were shocked by their own lives. They reflected and began with hearty repentance to do penance.
After converting the three sinners, the hermit lay down to sleep again under the stairs. In the morning, they found him dead. From the dry wood under his head, three green twigs had grown on high. Thus, the Lord had once more received him into His favour.