8th March 2016

By Clive Hicks-Jenkins

By Clive Hicks-Jenkins

At one Lenten season, Saint Kevin, as was his way, fled from the company of men to a certain solitude, and in a little hut that did but keep out the sun and rain, gave himself earnestly to reading and to prayer, and his leisure to contemplation alone. As he knelt in his accustomed fashion, with his hand outstretched through the window and lifted up to heaven, a blackbird settled on it, and busying herself as in her nest, laid in it an egg. And so moved was the saint that in all patience and gentleness he remained, neither closing nor withdrawing his hand; but until the young ones were fully hatched he held it out unwearied, shaping it for the purpose.

~~Celtic Tradition


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