Now Brother Canice was born in County Derry in Ireland, the son of a bard who liked nothing more than a good song, and so for the rest of his life he sought nothing more than silence. After his visits hither and yon, he retreated, paddling his dory to one island or another in the Firth of Lorn, where but for the wild creatures that flocked to him, he was alone in the still and quite and could immerse himself in his translation of the Gospels.
Even then, though, he was still pestered. Once mice nibbled so furiously on his shoes that he took one of and threw it at them. The shoe landed in the water and he had to hop down on one foot to retrieve it. As he returned with his dripping shoe, he realized that this was his punishment for losing his patience and he apologized to the mice.
Another time Brother Canice thought the chattering of some birds would drive him mad. But although he was angry, he made himself talk to them in gentle tones and asked them to remain quite at least until the end of the Sabbath.
And there is one more story about Brother Canice. In the small wilderness of his island retreats he would often read his large tome as he picked his way through the bushes and brambles. But sometimes the book grew to heavy to hold. At these times a stag would appear and offer his great antlers as a bookstand.
Once while Brother Canice stood reading God’s word held up by the patient stag, a sound from the woods startled the animal, and he bounded off into the forest with the book lodged in the crook of his latticed crown.
Even then, though, he was still pestered. Once mice nibbled so furiously on his shoes that he took one of and threw it at them. The shoe landed in the water and he had to hop down on one foot to retrieve it. As he returned with his dripping shoe, he realized that this was his punishment for losing his patience and he apologized to the mice.
Another time Brother Canice thought the chattering of some birds would drive him mad. But although he was angry, he made himself talk to them in gentle tones and asked them to remain quite at least until the end of the Sabbath.
And there is one more story about Brother Canice. In the small wilderness of his island retreats he would often read his large tome as he picked his way through the bushes and brambles. But sometimes the book grew to heavy to hold. At these times a stag would appear and offer his great antlers as a bookstand.
Once while Brother Canice stood reading God’s word held up by the patient stag, a sound from the woods startled the animal, and he bounded off into the forest with the book lodged in the crook of his latticed crown.
From The Lives of Irish Saints, by J. Hanlon
