Once upon a time in Germany, so long ago that even a grandfather cannot remember, a young farmer named Hans, set out to make his fortune. The laws of his land were strange — they allowed the youngest son to inherit a father's property, not the oldest. Hans was the oldest and, though he loved the land, he left his father's farm and set out to seek his fortune in the nearby copper and slate mines.

Hans Luther worked hard in the mines and his hard work gained him the respect of the townspeople of Eisleben. So it came to pass that when he fell in love with pretty Margareta Lindeman, her father was most pleased to see her marry such a hard-working and respectable man.

If you think that you are about to read a fairy tale by the brothers Grimm, you are right only in that this story will end "happily ever after." This is a true story, you see, not a fairy tale, even though there are times when you will notice monsters jump off the pages and powers of evil trying to curl the words. It is the story of the child born to Hans Luther and Margareta Lindeman. It is the story of a child of God — a story written with the finger of the Creator of the universe.

A baby was born to Hans and Margareta in the fall of 1483. It was November — a wet and cold month in the town of Eisleben. When Hans heard the child's first cry he felt a surge of pride. He would work even harder in the mines now — for the boy — for the future. The very next day Hans carried the warmly bundled-up baby to St. Peter's Church in Eisleben, where the child received a Christian baptism and the name Martin.

When Martin was only a year old his parents moved to nearby Mansfelt where Hans had become the owner of two smelting furnaces. Hans was a strict father and did not spare the rod. There were never Bible stories in Martin's young life either after supper or before bed. The Bible, you see, was written in Latin and Martin's mother, Margareta, could neither speak Latin nor read it.

Mother Margareta did tell Martin other stories — stories about gnomes, elves and goblins. She often spoke to him in soft whispers as they walked into the forest around Mansfelt to collect firewood before supper. Small Martin, who had a lively imagination, thought he could see witches and wizards in the shadows of the trees as he helped his mother. His tiny heart thudded with fear as he picked up twigs, because he had been told that these evil beings caused sickness and thunderstorms and were able to cast hideous spells on people.

“Where is God, mother?" "He is in heaven, Martin, far away."

"Can He not chase away the badness in the forest, mother? Is he not very, very strong?"

"Oh, yes, He is strong, Martin. But He is in heaven, remember? He is powerful and mighty and will judge us when we die for the wicked things we have done."

"Does He get very angry, Mother, the way Father gets angry at me sometimes?"

"Yes, He doesn't like sin, you see. That's why we'll have to suffer in purgatory for a while after we die. So we must pray very hard. Maybe that will help."

"I'm afraid to pray to God, Mother."

"Then you must pray to the saints, Martin."

When Martin was old enough, he was sent to Latin school. Monks also taught him the Ten Commandments and the Lord's Prayer. There was not much history and geography to learn as yet. In a few years Columbus would discover America, but even that had not happened yet. Latin was the most important subject and the boy who made the most mistakes in class was forced to wear a donkey's mask tied to his head.

Martin's father was strict — so strict that he beat Martin severely if the boy disobeyed him. Martin's teachers were strict as well. There was a time when he was given 15 strokes with the birch cane in one day because of careless work. In spite of the harsh rules, Martin loved school and was one of the best students. He also loved the church. He was still too frightened to pray directly to God, but he loved mass which he attended every day. On holy days, or saints' birthdays, he, along with other schoolboys, was allowed to march through town behind the bishops and the priests in their colourful robes.

When Martin was 14 his father sent him away to school in a neighouring town. The tuition alone cost a great deal of money, leaving little for Martin's food. He often had to go begging for his bread cry­ing out in a well-learned Latin, "Panem propter Deum" — (bread for God's sake).

Martin's work at school was outstanding and his father was very proud of him. When Martin came home to visit on holidays, his father would introduce him as "Doctor Martin." It was Hans' dream that his son would become famous and wealthy and take care of his father and his mother in their old age.

One day on his way to the university from a visit to his home in Mansfelt, Martin was thoughtful and just a bit sad. There was something within him that yearned to reach out and touch God. It was something that he had been taught his whole life not to do. God was remote, very far away, surely angry at such a poor, sinful student as himself. If he were to die now, it would be hell for him — surely it would be hell. Martin's eyes longingly searched the sky. It had become dark as he walked and a distant rumble warned him that a storm was brewing. Within minutes it was upon him and no shelter in sight. The rain fell in heavy drops, soaking him to the skin. The wind whipped up his cloak and he imagined that lightning lit up ghoulish tree figures. They whispered to him, hissing as the rain fell, "Hell, Martin, to hell with you." A bolt of lightning struck so near him that he fell to the ground. "Help me, Saint Anne, I will become a monk!" The words were out before he knew it, but they bound him like ropes. When the storm was over he silently plodded on to Erfurt University knowing in his heart of hearts that he must keep this vow or surely be damned.

When Hans Luther heard of Martin's vow, he almost went out of his mind with anger. His child Martin, 21 and a brilliant student, the hope of this old age, become a monk?! Never!! He refused to give either his consent or blessing. But two weeks and a day later, and without his father's consent, Martin knelt at the foot of an alter in the Erfurt Monastery. The prior questioned him.

"What do you want?" "To please God."

"Are you married?"

"No."

"In debt?"

"No."

"Ill?"

"No."

"Your life will be difficult. You will have little food. You will wear rough clothes. You will have to beg. You will have to pray throughout the night. You will not have a wife or children. You will not have a home of your own. Are you prepared for this?"

"Yes — yes, with God's help."

Martin was not fully admitted as monk until a year later. During the 12 months of his trial he prayed and fasted, kept vigils and froze. He inflicted great pain on himself and counted it a blessing when he was given a sack, day after day, and told to go into town and beg bread for the monastery. He thought all these things would please God — would bring God closer to himself.

Hans and Margareta were somewhat reconciled with Martin when he celebrated his first mass, but it still pained them greatly that their son had become a monk and not a lawyer.

It confused Martin somewhat that becoming a monk had not seemed to bring him any closer to God. When his order sent him to Rome in 1510, he was very happy. He thought, as millions of pilgrims to Rome did, that perhaps in holy Rome itself where so many martyrs had died, he would find peace with God. But Luther did not find the peace he sought in Rome; he only found shameful wickedness. He could not understand this and said, "If there is a hell, then Rome must be built on top of it, for sin flourishes there."

Disappointed Martin travelled back to the University of Erfurt, preparing to become a doctor of the Bible, a doctor of theology. In order to become a doctor of theology he had to study the Bible hard. Martin did not know that God had prepared this study for him long before he was born. This time of study was to become the time of Luther's salvation. And it was so that the more Martin studied, the happier he became. In Romans he came across words that made him weep with joy. "The just shall live by faith." And Martin began to understand that faith was a gift of God; and that he had been chosen to live freely and happily ever after.