Saint Molua and Saint Munna's Angelic Visitor

August 4 is the feast of the great Irish monastic founder, Saint Molua. Canon O'Hanlon has included in his account of the saint the story of a miracle at the time of Saint Molua's death involving another Irish saint, Munna of Taghmon:

The Angel of God was accustomed to make two visits each week—namely, on each Sunday and Thursday—to the holy abbot Munnu, of Taghmoon, in Hy Kinsellagh; but, he came not on the week when our saint died. Munnu had a revelation, that there was great rejoicing in Heaven, on account of our saint's accession to the angelic choirs. After the interval of a week, that angel again appeared. Then Munnu said, "Wherefore, servant of God, have you not come to me as usual, during the last few days ?" The angel answered: "Because on those days the venerable servant of God, Molua, son to Coche, went to Heaven. Therefore, the angels did not visit the saints of Ireland, as usual; for, they rejoiced together, on the arrival of Molua among them." Then, St. Munnu said :" Now doth it appear, he accomplished the will of God, in a manner superior to us all. But, go thou to the Lord, and learn for me, on what account the Almighty was more pleased with Molua's approach, that he should in consequence neglect to visit me." The angel obeyed. Within a short time he returned, saying: " This is the reply to thy question. The face of no man was ever suffused with blushes through Molua, for he was mild to all, and governed his monks with great piety and gentleness. With moderation, he drew them to the right path. However, rejoice, also; for you shall find a similar honour in Heaven, since you must endure suffering in this life, and to the hour of your death." On the following Thursday, Munnu was struck with a leprosy, which covered all parts of his body, and thus was he afflicted, for the remaining twenty years of his life.

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Vignettes from the Lives of the Irish Saints: Saint Comgall and the Mice

...There came a time of famine in Ireland, and there was not food enough to go around, as has often happened there from the earliest days until even now. Comgall and his household at Bangor were very hungry. But what made it hardest to bear was that they knew where there was plenty of food close by, if only they could get it. For Croadh was a great Prince who lived in the neighborhood, and Croadh had barns and storehouses full of grain which could be made into bread. But he was a selfish, stingy man and would not give away or even sell his stores, for he would rather see the people starve. Now Croadh had a wicked old mother living in his palace, who was even more cruel than himself. Her name was Luch, and Luch means in Irish " the Mouse." And it was her name which put an idea into Comgall's head.

After sending all sorts of messengers to beg Croadh to give them some of his grain ; after trying all sorts of ways to make him sell it, Comgall went himself to the Prince's palace to see what he could do. He carried with him a beautiful silver goblet which had been given him by some one as a present, and it was worth many bushels of grain.

Comgall strode into the Prince's hall and stood before Croadh holding out the goblet in his hand. And he said, "Here, O Prince, is a valuable thing. We are starving in the monastery, and silver we cannot eat. Give me and my monks some of your golden grain and I will exchange for it the silver cup. Be merciful, Croadh, and hear me." But the Chief only laughed and said mockingly, " Not so. You keep your silver goblet and I will keep my golden grain. Your beggarly pupils shall not eat of my stores. I want all, every grain, for my old Mouse." And by that word he meant his mother, the black-eyed, wrinkled, gray old Luch, whose name meant "the Mouse." For she was the most miserly, wicked, old woman in the world, and she had made him promise not to give up any of the grain. Then Comgall was angry, because he saw that the Prince meant to see the people starve.

 "Very well," he said, fixing his eyes sternly upon Croadh, "as you have said, so shall it be. The mouse shall have your grain." And drawing his robe about him he strode home with the useless silver goblet.

As I have said, the mice were Comgall's friends. He had only to call them and explain what the hard-hearted Prince had done; he had only to tell the mice what he wished them to do, and the matter was settled. The word spread through the kingdom of the mice, carried by the quickest messenger with the shortest tail. All the mice became enemies of Croadh. And there were many mice in Bangor in those days.

That very night when every one was asleep, out of every hole and corner came peeping little pointed noses and quivering whiskers. And a great procession of long-tailed tiny things formed into line and crept along, and along, up the hill, and up the walls, and into the barns of Croadh. A legion of mice, thousands upon thousands of them in a gray-uniformed army, pounced upon the Prince's precious grain and ate up every kernel.

So the next morning when Croadh went to his barns he found them empty. There was not so much as a single yellow dot of grain left anywhere. But out of every crack and crevice peeped a pair of twinkling black eyes which watched him saucily. Then Croadh began to bellow and roar with anger, and the wicked old woman Luch, his mother, came hobbling in to see what was the matter. But when the mice saw her they gave a chorus of fierce squeaks as if crying " Mouse! Mouse! Mouse! " Then Croadh remembered what Comgall had said, that the mouse should have his grain after all. And he guessed what the Saint had meant, and knew that Comgall had taken this way to punish a selfish and cruel man.

Abbie Farwell Brown, The Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts (NY 1900), 148-155.

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Saint Fechin at Poulaphouca Waterfall

It was the afternoon of Sunday when Fechin and his monks arrived at Poulaphouca Falls, and the glorious Twenty-Eighth Psalm was part of the Lauds for Monday, which they were reciting that evening, and no other Psalm could so voice the feelings of the enraptured hearts of those "sons of God" in the midst of "the many waters" and "the thunders of the Lord" and "the cedars."

"Afferte Domino, filii Dei, gloriam et honorem : afferte Domino gloriam nomini Ejus : adorate Dominum in atrio sancto Ejus ! 

Vox Domini super aquas, Deus majestatis intonuit : Dominus super aquas multas ! 

Vox Domini in virtute : Vox Domini in magnificentia. 

Vox Domini confringentis cedros. . . . 

Dominus virtutem populo suo dabit : Dominus benedicet populo suo in pace." 

" Bring to the Lord, O ye sons of God, . . . glory and honour ! bring to the Lord glory to His name ! Adore ye the Lord in His holy Church !

The voice of the Lord upon the waters : the God of majesty hath thundered ! The Lord upon many waters !

The voice of the Lord in power, the voice of the Lord in magnificence !

The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars ! . . . The Lord will give strength to His people ; the Lord will bless His people with peace." (Ps. xxviii).

Not for a few minutes only but for hours did holy Fechin and his disciples pray here and sing their Psalms and hymns. At last some of the monks completely tired and physically exhausted said to Fechin that it was time for all to rest. "No," answered the Saint, " I cannot cease. The Falls never cease, but are continually offering the sublime melody of their music to their Creator. I must not be a debtor to my God." Behold then God wrought a great wonder to reward His devout servant. The waters of the Falls ceased to flow down, and, piling themselves above, seemed to listen to the chanting of the Psalms of Fechin and his choir, a heavenlier music than their own! This prodigy lasted till the third hour. Then the Saint was given to understand that he and his tired brethren might themselves take a little rest and refresh their exhausted bodies, and so they ceased their psalmody.

The Life of St Fechin of Fore: The Apostle of Connemara by Father J.B. Coyle (Dublin, 1915).

Note: January 20 is the feast day of Saint Fechin of Fore and previous posts on his life can be found here and here.

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A Legend of Saint Scothine

January 2 is the feast of Saint Scothin, an account of whose life can be found here. Below is a retelling of the most famous of the legends associated with him, by the Irish Anglican writer Maud Joynt:

LEGEND OF SAINT SCOTHINE

SCOTHINE, who dwelt at Tech Scothine, in Leinster, was a saint of great piety and of wondrous power;  for he could make the journey from Ireland to Rome in one day and return the next; moreover, he could walk dryshod on the sea. One day while he was walking on the sea he met Saint Barre of Cork, who was in a boat.

" How comes it that thou art walking on the sea?" asked Barre .

" 'Tis no sea, but a plain covered with clover," said Scothine, and, with that, he plucked a clover blossom and threw it to Saint Barre in the boat.

"But thou, how comes it that thy boat floats on a plain?"

Thereupon Barre dipped his hand into the water, drew out a salmon and threw it to Scothine; and that was all the answer he made.

Maud Joynt, The Golden Legends of the Gael, (Dublin, n.d.), Part II, 80.

Saint Columbanus at Annegray

We continue the octave of posts in honour of the 1400th anniversary of the death of Saint Columbanus with a portrait of the way of life he pursued at Annegray. It reveals a tension familiar to the saints, torn as they are by the needs of others and a desire for solitude:

During the sojourn of Columbanus at Anegrai which lasted for two or three years, he lived in the continual practice of prayer and contemplation. Oftentimes, his course of life was interrupted by the wits of those, who came from afar, being attracted by the reputation of his virtues and many miracles wrought through the efficacy of his prayers. Numbers of sick and infirm persons were brought to him, and through his intervention they were miraculously restored to health and strength. Numbers of pious persons sought the direction and advice of this experienced instructor. These unavoidable interruptions did not however prevent our Saint occasionally retiring from public observation, to avoid the distractions caused by his visitors. Although he could not always shun intercourse with men, on account of the laborious duties of the ministry he was called to exercise; yet, he was accustomed, before all great festivals, to withdraw himself for a few days to the most retired parts of the desert, where, by a sort of retreat, he devoted himself entirely to fasting, prayer and holy contemplation.

Rev. John O'Hanlon, ' Life of Saint Columbanus, Abbot of Luxeu' in The Irish Harp: a monthly magazine of national and general literature: Volume 1, 1-4 (1863), 154.

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Saint Columbanus and the Miracle of Water from the Rock

Canon O'Hanlon brings us another vignette from the Life of Saint Columbanus, this time heavily-laden with Old Testament allusions, as he describes how our saint is able through his prayers to make water flow from a rock:

On the occasion of his many retreats to the solitudes of the forest, the Saint suffered the extremities of hunger for whole days. He lived upon wild herbs and berries, which the woods furnished, and he often remained altogether apart from his companions. His drink was water. A certain youth, named Domoaldis, was commissioned by Columban and his monks to bear messages between them, and this boy was alone witness to many of the austerities of our Saint. Columban remained for several days on the brow of a precipitous rock, very difficult of access, and Domoaldis, who chanced to be with him, complained in an undertone of voice, that they should be obliged to procure water at a distance, and that it must be conveyed with great toil up the side of the steep. Upon this, Columban desired the boy to scoop out a hollow in the rock, and he obeyed. The holy man knelt down, and besought the Lord, that he would look upon them with a favourable eye. Thereupon, a rill of water issued from the rock, and the spring continued perpetually running from that time. Hence we may admire the wonderful condescension of Almighty God, to the requests of his chosen servants, who with faith and hope prefer their petitions to him. For he himself has given the assurance, "All things whatsoever you ask, believe that you shall obtain and they shall be rendered unto you." This consolatory promise to the holy man was often realized, even in the presence of multiplied difficulties.*

* Jonas, Vita S. Columbani. n. 16.

Rev. John O'Hanlon, ' Life of Saint Columbanus, Abbot of Luxeu' in The Irish Harp: a monthly magazine of national and general literature: Volume 1, 1-4 (1863), 112.

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Saint Columbanus and the Dangers of the Forest

We continue the octave of posts in honour of the 1400th anniversary of the death of Saint Columbanus with a glimpse into how the saint dealt with the dangers of life in the forests. I am particularly pleased that the author here is none other than dear old Canon O'Hanlon, as he did not live to publish a November volume of his Lives of the Irish Saints. He did, however, begin the serialisation of what I am sure would have formed his chapter on Saint Columbanus in a short-lived Irish literary magazine, alas it doesn't seem like he got the chance to conclude it. Here he brings us a vignette from the biography of Saint Columbanus by the monk Jonas of Bobbio:

It was a custom of the Saint to make solitary excursions through the forest, and on a certain occasion, when taking with him the Sacred Scriptures, he fell into a reverie of thought, whether it would be preferable for him to suffer violence from men or wild beasts. He concluded at length, that it would be more desirable to sustain the rage of beasts rather than that of men, since the latter sort of violence could not take place, without the loss of immortal souls. Thereupon, he prayed and armed himself with the sign of the cross. No sooner had he performed these actions, than a troop of twelve wolves rushed towards him and surrounded him on every side. The Saint cried out, "O Lord incline to my aid, O Lord hasten to my assistance." He remained immoveable and intrepid, although the wolves caught hold of his garments. They at length left him, and fled into the recesses of the forest. Scarcely had Columban escaped this danger, when he overheard the voices of certain Swiss robbers, who were lurking in the woods. He passed the forest unobserved by them, and thus escaped a second danger. Taking a longer ramble than usual from his cell, he one day penetrated a hitherto unexplored recess of the forest, where he discovered a large cave, in the side of a precipitous rock. Upon entering, he found a bear, which had here taken up its place of concealment. Columban drove the animal away, without its attempting the least injury against him, and what was still more remarkable, it dared not return afterwards to the den it formerly occupied. This occurred at a place about seven miles distant from Anegrai.*

* Jonas, Vita S. Columbani. n. 15.

Rev. John O'Hanlon, ' Life of Saint Columbanus, Abbot of Luxeu' in The Irish Harp: a monthly magazine of national and general literature: Volume 1, 1-4 (1863), 112.



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Adamnan, the Poor Scholar

September 23 is the feast day of Saint Adamnan, abbot of Iona and biographer of Saint Colum Cille. In the episode below we see this great saint not as the accomplished churchman but as a struggling student who encounters King Finnachta and his entourage:

Vignettes from the Lives of the Irish Saints: Adamnan, the Poor Scholar

The sister of Finnachta invited him to come to her and feast in her dún for some days. It was before Finnachta, whom men called "The Festive", was made Ard-Righ of Erinn. He set out with a great cavalcade, and as they journeyed towards Clonard of Meath, with laughter and light words, they came upon a young student who was trudging along the road with a small cask or churn on his back. The youth, on hearing the tramp of the horses,  made a hurried attempt to move off the road: but having struck his foot against a stone he fell, breaking the cask to pieces and spilling the milk with which it was filled. The cavalcade passed on at quick speed, and the student recovering himself set out among with them, and notwithstanding their speed and his own grief kept pace with them,  a fragment of the cask at his back, until at last he attracted the notice of the king, who smiled when he saw the excitement under which he laboured. Then the king accosted him and said: "We will make thee happy again, for we have sympathy with the unfortunate and the powerless. Thou shalt receive, O student," said he, "satisfaction from me". The youth (who was afterwards no less a person than the great scholar and divine, Saint Adamnan the founder of the Church of Rath-Botha, or Raphoe in Donegal, and Abbot of Iona after Columkill) then spoke to the king, whom he did not know at the time: "O good man," said he, "I have cause to be grieved, for there are three noble students in one house, and there are three lads of us that wait upon them, and what we do is, one of us three goes round the neighbourhood to collect support for the other five, and it was my turn to do do this day; but what I had obtained for them has been lost, and what is more unfortunate, the borrowed vessel has been broken, while I have not the means of paying for it."

Then Finnachta ordered that full compensation should be made to Adamnan; and afterwards, when Finnachta was Ard-righ and the young scholar had the reputation of learning on him, the king brought him to Tara and made him his councillor. - Taken from O'Curry's Translation of an old Irish MS.

All Ireland Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (Mar. 15, 1902), p. 29

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The Death of Saint Ciarán of Clonmacnoise

XLIX. THE DEATH OF CIARAN

35. Our most holy patron Kiaranus lived but for one year in his settlement of Cluain. When he knew that the day of his death was approaching, he prophesied, deploring the subsequent evils that would come to pass in his place after him; and he said that their life would be short. Then the brethren said unto him, "What then shall we do in the time of those evils? Shall we abide here beside thy relics, or shall we go to other places?" To them Saint Kiaranus said, "Haste ye to other quiet places, and leave my relics here like the dry bones of a stag on a mountain. For it is better for you to be with my spirit in heaven than beside my bones on earth, and stumbling withal."

Saint Kiaranus used greatly to crucify his body, and we write here an example of this. He ever had a stone pillow beneath his head, which till to-day remains in the monastery of Saint Kiaranus, and is reverenced by every one. Moreover, when he was growing weak, he would not have the stone removed from him, but commanded it to be placed to his shoulders, that he should have affliction even to the end, for the sake of an everlasting reward in heaven.

Now when the hour of his departure was approaching, he commanded that he should be carried outside, out of the house; and looking up into heaven, he said, "Hard is that way, and this needs must be." To him the brethren said, "We know that nothing is difficult for thee, father; but we unhappy ones must greatly fear this hour."

And being carried back into the house, he raised his hand and blessed his people and clerks; and having received the Lord's Sacrifice, on the fifth of the ides of September he gave up the ghost, in the thirty-third year of his age. And lo, angels filled the way between heaven and earth, rejoicing to meet Saint Kiaranus.


R.A.Stewart-MacAllister, ed. and trans., The Latin and Irish Lives of Ciaran, (London, SPCK, 1921).

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Saint Arbogast Restores a King's Son to Life

Vignettes from the Lives of the Irish Saints: Saint Arbogast Restores a King's Son to Life

The only son of King Dagobert went one day to the chase. While his companions had scattered through the forest with the hounds, a wild boar rushed forth. His horse took fright and threw him from the saddle. He hung from the stirrups and was dragged along by the frightened animal. After a long search he was found by the hunters, and amid loud lamentations was borne to his home. He died the next day. The sorrow of the people mingled with that of his parents. Following the advice of his people, the king sent a messenger to St. Arbogast, Bishop of Strasburg. The latter immediately set forth. The king and the bishop could scarce exchange words on account of their grief. The queen came forward and fell on her knees, weeping aloud. The bishop, sympathizing with her in her anguish, lifted her to her feet. Without waiting for any refreshment after his journey, Arbogast retired to the church. Before the shades of evening fell, he entered the room where the dead young man lay. God did not leave his servant long in anxious suspense. While Arbogast was praying the young man raised his head. Overcome with joy, the saint raised the boy to his feet. Then he ordered that the shroud should be removed, and the prince clothed in his royal attire.

Those who were present could not restrain themselves from breaking out in cries of joy. The king and queen were lifted from the depths of sorrow to the pinnacle of joy. They offered the richest gifts to the saint. The latter, however, would accept nothing, but simply expressed his desire that in thanksgiving to God the king should make an offering to the Church of Our Blessed Lady in Strasburg.

St. Arbogast is honored as the patron saint of Strasburg to the present day.

Short Instructive Sketches from the Lives of the Saints for the use of Parochial and Sunday Schools, Academies &etc. (New York, 1888), 59-61.

Note: July 21 is the feast of Saint Arbogast, an Irish saint who laboured in continental Europe. A post on his life can be found here.

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Saint Moling and the Two Suffering Men

June 17 is the feast of Saint Moling Luachra and below is an account of one of his many miracles:

Two men, affected with excessive pain of the emblena [belly], and in the whole body, caused by great dropsical swelling, were brought to St. Molyng, that in the name of Christ, he might cure them. At that time, the holy senior Molyng was out in the open air, and digging the earth in a field along with the brethren. Seeing their affliction, the venerable man said to them: "Chew some of the clay of this earth, I have just now dug". Unwilling to taste it, one of them reproved the holy man, saying that for no good end could he bid men to eat earth. The other man, however, humbly chewed it, and he was healed from his infirmity. He arose strengthened, and he gave thanks to God. Then, he walked home to his own people. Unwilling to return, the proud man died and was there buried. In both, the words of the Sacred Scriptures were fulfilled. In the case of the humble man, those words, "Thy faith hath made thee whole", and in the case of the proud man, "He who exalteth himself shall be humbled,"were verified. On account of this miracle, many were confirmed in Christ.

Rev. John O'Hanlon, Lives of the Irish Saints, Volume VI (Dublin, n.d.), 715.

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Saint Colman Speaks With His Mother

June 7 is the commemoration of Saint Colman of Dromore. Various of this saintly bishop's miracles have been recorded, one of which, the story of Saint Colman and the Water Monster,  Canon O'Hanlon related in a collection of folklore. In the Lives of the Irish Saints he records some other of Saint Colman's miracles, including this one concerning the saint's mother:

Our saint's mother had sent a message, that she desired the privilege of speaking to him. But, the servant of Christ returned for answer: "Let her take choice of the alternative, either to see me only, or to speak without seeing me". On hearing this, she said: "I had rather he would speak to me, on matters pertaining to the welfare of my soul". Then, both met, but on opposite sides of a tree, and they began to converse with each other, without being mutually seen. Meantime, by Divine interposition, an opening was made through the tree, and which enable both to behold each other, without the intervention of any obstacle. 

Rev. John O'Hanlon, Lives of the Irish Saints, Volume VI, (Dublin, n.d.), 234.

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Vignettes from the Lives of the Irish Saints: Maidoc Dispenses Poetic Justice

Another day, his cook came to St. Maidoc and said: "To-day we have nothing left in the store-room but a small vessel of milk and a little butter; shall this be given to our guests ?" Our saint replied: "Give in abundance to all, as if you had drawn from a mountain." His command was obeyed, and on that night all were helped abundantly. Some imposters and deceitful persons, having hidden their garments in the woods, afterwards presented themselves to the bishop, asking means for clothing themselves. Our saint then said: "Wait awhile, until you receive what you ask for." The holy bishop then sent his servant to where their clothes had been hidden, without those impostors having been made aware of his intention. On returning with the garments, which the schemers recognised as their own, they immediately departed in disappointment and confusion.

Note: January 31 is the feast of Saint Maidoc (Aidan) of Ferns. A post on his life can be found here. The saint seems to have left as many accounts of his miracles as there are variants of his name and above is one of these miraculous episodes, taken from Father Colgan's Acta Sanctorum Hiberniae and brought to us by Canon O'Hanlon on page 563 of Volume One of his Lives of the Irish Saints.

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Vignettes from the Lives of the Irish Saints: The Miracle of Loch Leamnachta

January 29 is the feast of Saint Blath, cook to Saint Brigid of Kildare. Although no details of the life of Saint Blath have survived, she is mentioned in the hagiography of her famous abbess in connection with a miracle concerning some unexpected episcopal visitors and a dearth of milk. The miracle of Loch Leamnachta provided the inspiration for writer Alice Dease, in her 1911 work Good Women of Erin, to try and give a little more substance to the person of Saint Blath. In this story aimed at the younger reader, she portrays Blath as a shepherd girl who encounters the holy Abbess of Kildare and develops a deep longing to join her. Although the story of the hungry visiting bishops is retained from the account of the miracle, in her fictional version Dease makes Blath, the humble cook, the heroine rather than Brigid, the illustrious Abbess. Indeed, Saint Brigid is depicted as having forgotten that the milk supply for the day is already exhausted. I have edited the story slightly for length, but the original can be accessed online at the Institute for Irish American Studies at Lehman College, where you can also enjoy the wonderful woodcut illustrations:

The Miracle of Loch Leamnachta

WHEN St. Brigid first went to the Plains of Leinster to found her great convent under the shelter of the oak forest, there were no dwellings for many miles round the spot where she chose to build her church and her cells. The forest glades and the grassy plains round about the oak-trees were given up to flocks of sheep and of cattle, and the only human beings that were ever seen in the neighbourhood of Kill-Dara, until the coming of St. Brigid and her nuns, were the women and the girls who herded the cattle and watched the sheep. Amongst these shepherdesses there was a maiden whom her companions called by the name of Blath, which means a flower. She had won for herself this name by her great love for the wild-flowers that grew amongst the grasses on the plain, but there was another reason which made this name doubly suitable to her.

One day when her sheep were resting quietly in the shade of the oak-trees, Blath wandered away from them, going hither and thither in search of the flowers that she loved. She had picked a great bunch of daisies, when suddenly she was startled by the sound of footsteps, and, looking up, she saw some dark figures approaching her, clad in flowing robes unlike anything she had ever seen before. For a moment she was afraid, and she would have fled, clasping her flowers to her, had it not been that a second glance at the face of the foremost of the strangers chased away all fear, and made the peasant-girl stay where she was, motionless, in wondering admiration .

“Come hither, little maiden," said the beautiful lady ... Come and tell us your name, and what you are doing in this lonely spot."

“My name is Blath," replied the shepherdess, hanging her head till her soft cheek touched the white petals of the dog-daisies she carried, "and I am minding the sheep that are resting away there,"

"Blath," repeated St. Brigid, for it was the holy Abbess who was on her way to Cill-Dara to found her convent, who had spoken to the maiden- “Blath! You are well named, little one, for there is great likeness between your innocent face and the pretty flowers that you carry in your arms,"

“Do you think they are pretty, too?" asked Blath, for the soft voice had made her forget her shyness. "The other girls laugh at me for loving them." Then, holding them out with a sudden movement, " Please, lady, take them. I-I would like to give them to you." And St. Brigid took the flowers, and bade their little namesake to try ever to keep her own soul as spotless as the petals of the flowers that she loved.

[The story continues with Blath observing the construction of the monastery at Kildare and the steady stream of women wishing to take the veil there]

The little shepherdess watched these maidens with envious eyes. Ever since St. Brigid had spoken to her in the forest and had accepted her flowers, Blath had longed to win her notice once again, to hear her speak, as she had done that day, of God and of His great love for innocent hearts, to serve her, and, through her, to serve her Master. But, as time went on, and the convent-bell reminded the little shepherdess several times in the day to join her prayers with those of the nuns, who were praying in the chapel by the oak, a purer, more perfect wish to serve God began to take root in her heart. She longed to have some great thing to give up for His sake, as the noble maidens had who entered the convent almost daily, and for a long time she did not dare to offer the only things she had -her heart and her life- for His service.

Then, one day, she again met St. Brigid, and, falling on her knees, Blath begged to be received into the convent as the last and least of all the Sisters. St. Brigid at this time was about to make a new foundation at a little distance from Cill-Dara, at a place where some land had been given to her on the borders of a small lake, and, wishing to try the little shepherdess, she told her that there was no work for her to do at Cill-Dara, but if she liked to go to the new convent and ask there for admission, St. Brigid would ask the Prioress to take her in, to work in the kitchen. Blath had pictured to herself long hours spent in prayer in the church that she loved at Cill-Dara, but when she heard the holy Abbess's decision, her first feeling was one of joy that she should have this sacrifice of her own wishes to offer to God, and her only answer was a prayer to be allowed to go without delay to the new convent.

The Sisters whom Blath was bidden to help, found her so meek, so diligent at her work, and so obedient to them and to the rules of the house, that before very long she was allowed to take the veil, and then, after the usual novitiate, she made the vows that bound her, of her own will, to the service of God for ever.

St. Brigid used often to come to the convent, for she was Abbess both of that house and of Cill-Dara, so that Blath, who, as time went on, was given the whole charge of the kitchen, had the joy of serving the Mother she loved so much.

One day, when St. Brigid was at the convent, eight holy men came to see her and ask her advice. They had travelled a long way, and were weary and exhausted, and as soon as the Abbess had greeted them, she sent word to Sister Blath in the kitchen to make ready a repast for the travellers, and to be sure that they were provided with plenty of milk to assuage their thirst, which was very great after their long and toilsome journey. But, in ordering this repast, St. Brigid had forgotten that the poor people who were always coming to the convent to beg for alms and for food had been given everything, down to the last piece of bread that was in the larder.

Once some of her nuns had complained to St. Brigid of her great charity to the poor. "Little food have we," they said, "from thy compassion to everyone, and we ourselves in want of food and raiment."

"Give earthly things to God," St. Brigid had made answer, "and He will give you heavenly things in return."

And from that time no one had dared make any complaint as to her generosity.

But poor Sister Blath, turning from the empty shelves of the larder, went to the dairy, hoping at least to be able to fulfil a part of her Superior's orders, but the last drop of milk had also been given to the poor, and there was nothing to be seen but a row of empty pails and pans.

Whilst Sister Blath was wringing her hands in the empty dairy, a messenger came to her, bidding her hasten at least to take the milk to the holy prelates, who were consumed with thirst.

The holy cook, who, even while working, kept her heart raised up in prayer to God, felt now that only God Himself could help her to obey these orders, and, going on her knees, she begged of Him to tell her what to do. Whilst thus she prayed, it suddenly came into her mind that, although the cows had only lately been milked, she might, perhaps, be able to get from them enough to allay the worst of the travellers' thirst.

No sooner had this thought come into her mind than she rose to her feet, seized the largest of the milk-pails, and went out to the pasture where the cows had just been driven. Still praying, she began to milk one of the cows, and immediately her pail was filled to overflowing with the sweetest and richest of milk. Without even waiting to put the milk into a pitcher, Sister Blath, overjoyed at the marvellous success of her prayers, went straight to the presence of the Abbess and her guests.

The holy men partook gladly of the foaming milk, and then one and all besought St. Brigid not to have anything prepared for them to eat, because their hunger as well as their thirst had been well satisfied by the milk, which was sweeter and more refreshing than anything they had ever drunk.

There was still a little milk left in the pail after the prelates had slaked their thirst, and, going back to the kitchen, Sister Blath found a crowd of beggars waiting for the alms that were never refused to them, as long as there was anything left in the convent to give. " I have nothing to-day except a cup of milk for one or two amongst you," said Sister Blath, and, on hearing this, all of them crowded round her, hoping to be one of the lucky ones who would receive the milk.

Dipping a cup into the pail, the Sister handed it to the beggar who was nearest to her, and then to one after another she gave the same dole, until, like the travellers, everyone was satisfied, and it was only then that the pail was found to be dry and empty.

As soon as she was alone, Sister Blath fell upon her knees to thank God for having allowed so wonderful a thing to happen in answer to her prayers, but she was so humble that, had it not been for the beggars, no one would ever have known what had happened. As it was, however, they told how the drop of milk in the Sister's pail had been enough to feed them everyone, and when this was told, then Sister Blath made known how she had got the milk.

The little lake on the shores of which Sister Blath had milked the cow was known from that day as Loch Leamnachta, which in Irish means the lake of the milk. And when St. Brigid heard of what had happened, she thanked God for having helped Sister Blath to keep her heart as pure and unspotted as the flowers from which she took her name, for if this had not been the case, her prayer would not have been heard in so wonderful a manner.

It is only for His Saints, for those who are holy, and humble, and pure of heart, that God deigns to work such miracles as this, and St. Brigid prayed that Sister Blath might continue to be saintly on earth, so that some day she might take her place amongst God's own Saints in Heaven.

Alice Dease, 'The Miracle of Loch Leamnachta' in Good Women of Erin: The story of their heroic lives and deeds (Benziger Bros., New York, 1911), 44-52.

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