The image of Saint Vincent de Paul cradling babies in his arms, wrapped in his cloak, has become emblematic, suggesting the idea of a saint wandering the streets gathering abandoned children. We do not know if that ever actually happened. But this almost legendary image was born out of an unconditional dedication to the cause of abandoned children (foundlings) left on the streets of Paris, at the doors of churches or convents. “The history of this work with abandoned children is a continuous miracle… Father Vincent poured himself out searching for solutions. Here too, legend, interpreting real sentiments, embroidered interpretations around his gestures. He is depicted, on a snowy night, gathering poor abandoned ones from the streets, wrapping them in his cloak and carrying them to the shelter where the Daughters of Charity awaited him. This scene undoubtedly possesses the accuracy of a symbol. But it is only a symbol.” (Calvet, Cara Caridade: Vicente de Paulo, p. 142)

A report from the year 1600 mentions some 400 newborn infants abandoned, collected by charitable people or by the police. In 1630, there appears a reference to a work called La Couche (The Cradle), supposedly under the responsibility of the cathedral chapter, but without any real organization and lacking everything. The children who did not die were handed over to anyone willing to take them, with no concern for the fate awaiting them. There were cases of beggars who bought them in order to disfigure them and use them to arouse pity while begging (cf. J. Calvet, Sainte Louise de Marillac, par elle-même: Portrait, p. 128).

It was necessary to put an end to this situation—inhuman for society and scandalous to the Christian conscience. But considerable human and financial resources were required. Father Vincent and Louise de Marillac drafted a project. At that time, in 1640, the general assembly of the Confraternities of Charity of Paris was held. The project presented by Father Vincent was approved. It seemed a great undertaking. The ladies of the Confraternities assumed responsibility for administration. The Daughters of Charity, directed by Louise—who was also secretary of the Assembly of Confraternities—would carry out the project. And so, the plan began to move from paper into reality.

Reception centers were organized in the parishes. But the greatest innovation came with the creation of “foster families.” Building on the already established Confraternities of Charity in the parishes, and with the collaboration of the parish priests, lists of families were drawn up to whom these children could be entrusted with peace of mind. Each child was accompanied by a record indicating their identity and health status. That record had to be updated by the foster family, under the careful supervision of the confraternity ladies, who made regular visits and wrote reports. “Wet nurses” were hired and paid a monthly stipend for the newborns and those who could not take to the bottle.

Starting at age five, the children learned to read and write; at eleven, they were transferred to a house where the boys learned a trade and the girls were introduced to domestic tasks. The work grew rapidly. So did financial difficulties, worsened by the so-called civil war of the Fronde, which divided families and ruined part of the nobility who lived in the city unable to collect rents from their lands. The ladies, initially enthusiastic about the project, began to lose interest: they stopped attending meetings and ceased contributing to its support. There were even voices saying it would be best to end it altogether. Louise felt anguished, since the burden of management fell upon her, along with the moral dilemma of what to do with so many children—and with the many others arriving each day.

Father Vincent, heavily occupied with restoring peace among the warring factions and supporting war victims, did not forget the work he so cherished. As soon as he returned to Paris, he did what he always did in such situations: he convened a general assembly of all the Ladies of Charity of Paris. The words he addressed to them carried an eloquence that came not from rhetorical technique, but from the force of heartfelt argument:

“Ladies: Out of compassion, and even more, out of charity, you have adopted these little ones as your own children. You have been their mothers according to grace, since their mothers according to nature abandoned them. Well then, consider and see if you also wish to abandon them; if you wish to cease being their mothers, only to become their judges. Their life and their death are in your hands. I will ask for your decision. The time has come to know whether you no longer wish to show them mercy. If you continue caring for them with charity, they will live. But if you abandon them, they will perish without remedy. Experience leaves no room for doubt.” (Idem, p. 141).

The speech bore fruit. A now-classic scene depicts the ladies, including the queen, handing over their jewels on the spot so that the work of caring for abandoned children could continue. With money came renewed enthusiasm.

On the other hand, it was necessary to rekindle the dedication and initial fervor of the Daughters of Charity, beset by both internal and external difficulties: internally, the demands of the work itself; externally, suspicion and mistrust. In a long letter to Father Vincent, Louise poured out her heart:

“I am very distressed at being so insistent, but the impossibility of being able to continue receiving little children is too pressing. Our two wet-nurses now have seven infants who will not drink from a bottle, and we have no money to place them with someone else; nor do we have a supply of sheets or linens nor the hope of being able to borrow any more. … The Ladies have made no effort to help us, and I am sure that they believe that we are profiting from their expenditures. This is actually contrary to the truth… I know of only one way to assist all those who suffer in this work, and that is for us, in the name of our Company, to present a request to the Chief Justice to relieve us of our responsibility of receiving the children and to have them received by whomever he deems fit.” (Louise de Marillac, Spiritual Writings, 302).

The letter goes on to mention the children she had received the previous day. Thanks to it, we can gauge the state of mind in which Louise de Marillac and her closest collaborators, the Daughters of Charity, found themselves. This is why Father Vincent sought to sustain them, as he had sustained the Ladies:

“It is true, my sisters, it is true that this costs dearly. But where in life is there no cost? Know this: nowhere. It cost you even when you were in the world. Life is costly in every condition. But in the condition of those who care for these little ones, as in any service of charity, after the hardship comes a great reward. For this reason, even the hardship itself must be loved… My sisters, you must give great importance to God’s plan for you. He chose you—you, who surely never thought of it. Many years passed, many children died. Instead of turning to so many others whom His goodness might have chosen to work in this holy endeavor, He waited until you were prepared to give yourselves to it. When He chose you, there were many others in the world. But He chose you: Anne, Mary, Margaret, and all the rest…” (J. Calvet, Cara Caridade: Vicente de Paulo, p. 143).

With this heartfelt language, appealing to the heart but above all to the unfathomable plan of God, Saint Vincent de Paul managed to rekindle fading enthusiasm and restore joy to those who had so generously given themselves to a work that would become one of his hallmarks: the care of abandoned children.

Does it still make sense to speak of Father Vincent as the great promoter of sheltering abandoned children, even if he perhaps never roamed the streets gathering them into his cloak? Leadership is not defined so much by doing as by enabling others to do: by the ability to mobilize, by the art of uniting efforts, of bringing wills together. He brought together social needs, the generosity of the wealthy, the commitment of those young women inspired by their leader, Louise de Marillac, and her Daughters of Charity.

Fr. José Alves, CM