Amid the ruins of St. Kevin’s Monastery, Glendalough,
this Robin Redbreast was perched upon an ancient tombstone.
It was as if he was waiting for me.
Fearlessly, he allowed me to come so close, within six inches.
With his knowing look, he shared with me his story:
“Many, many years ago a Robin Redbreast was there on Calvary
on that dreadful Friday.
Jesus was crucified and the Earth was darkened.
That Robin Redbreast was the only bird that dared to be present.
He perched on the very cross beam beside the torn and bleeding Hand.
Amid the jeering taunts of the mob, the Robin sensed the muted sobbing of the women, the forgiving words of Jesus and His cries of agony and loss.
What could he do?
Only what he knew. So he raised his little head and began to sing
as beautifully and loudly as any robin could.
Throughout those three long hours, he sang and he sang.
Then his Master, crying out in a loud voice, bowed His Head and died.
The little robin’s heart burst in sorrow and song.
Falling from the Cross, his chest brushed against the bleeding Hand of the Master, to be forever marked by the Precious Blood.
Forever afterwards, each and every Robin around the world bears that mark of un-ending love”.
May you find in your heart this Easter and always, that same unending Love.
Grace Cottage28 March 2013