An old joke in honor of the new pope.
Miles Barton never made the right choice. If he bet on black, red came up. If he got in a line, it immediately slowed while all the other lines zipped through. If he bet on one sports team, you could be sure the other team would win.
One day, Miles had to take a business trip to New York. His secretary said “We can either send you first class on commercial Flight 29 or you can join a group going on the corporate jet. Miles thought and thought and finally he said “I’ll go on the corporate jet.”
At the airport, Miles as was walking to corporate boarding area he heard an announcement on the airport speakers. “Attention passengers on Flight 29 to New York. The flight has been canceled due to mechanical difficulties. Please see the gate attendant" Miles couldn’t believe it! He had actually made the right choice!!! He boarded the corporate jet with a light heart. He looked out the window as the jet lifted into the sky, leaving the stranded passengers behind. He joked with his fellow executives and felt better than he ever had in his life.
Suddenly, the jet shook. A violent storm had broken out. The men gasped as a huge lightning bolt struck the left engine and the wing exploded. The pilot rushed out. “We have to evacuate! The plane can’t stay in the air much longer! Get a parachute on, jump, count to three, and pull the ripcord!” The pilot opened a bin, strapped on a parachute, opened an emergency door, and jumped. The other executives rushed to the bin, and soon they had all strapped on a parachute and jumped. Miles got to the bin: There were two parachutes left. He grabbed one, strapped it on, and jumped out of the jet and into the raging storm. He counted to three and pulled the ripcord, only to have it pull uselessly out of the pack. Miles began to weep as he plummeted to earth, buffeted by the storm.
In desperation, he cried out “Saint Francis, hear me! I need you, Saint Francis! Please, Saint Francis,help me in my time of need!”
Suddenly, the clouds parted and a shaft of golden light shown down, enveloping Miles in a peaceful warmth he had never experienced before. A giant hand reached down from the clouds and caught him as gently as a baby in its mother’s arms. As Miles looked up in wonder, a deep calming voice called down.
“Are you Miles Barton?”
“Yes” he replied timidly
“Did you call out to Saint Francis for help in your time of need?
“Yes, yes I did!.” he replied joyfully.
“Did you want Saint Francis Xavier or Saint Francis of Assisi?"