From: richarra@gmail.com   
      
   On the Uses of Adversity (2)   
      
   A man should therefore place such complete trust in God, that he has   
   no need of comfort from men. When a good man is troubled, tempted, or   
   vexed by evil thoughts, he comes more clearly than ever to realize his   
   need of God, without whom he can do nothing good. Then, as he grieves   
   and laments his lot, he turns to prayer amid his misfortunes. He is   
   weary of life, and longs for death to release him, that he may be   
   dissolved, and be with Christ (Phil. 1:23). It is then that he knows   
   with certainty that there can be no complete security nor perfect   
   peace in his life.   
   --Thomas à Kempis --Imitation of Christ Bk 1, Ch 12   
      
      
   <<>><<>><<>>   
   October 29th - St. Colman of Kilmacduagh, Bishop   
      
   Born at Corker, Kiltartan, Galway, Ireland, c. 550; died 632; cultus   
   approved in 1903. Son of the Irish chieftain Duac, Colman was educated   
   at Saint Enda's (f.d. March 21) monastery in Aran. Thereafter he was a   
   recluse, living in prayer and prolonged fastings, at Arranmore and   
   then at Burren in County Clare. With King Guaire of Connaught he   
   founded the monastery of Kilmacduagh, i.e., the church of the son of   
   Duac, and governed it as abbot-bishop. The "leaning tower of   
   Kilmacduagh," 112 feet high, is almost twice as old as the famous town   
   in Pisa. The Irish round tower was restored in 1880.   
      
   There is a legend that angels brought King Guaire to him by causing   
   his festive Easter dinner to disappear from his table. The king and   
   his court followed the angels to the place where Colman had kept the   
   Lenten fast and now was without food. The path of this legendary   
   journey is called the "road of the dishes."   
      
   As with many relics, Saint Colman's abbatial crozier has been used   
   through the centuries for the swearing of oaths. Although it was in   
   the custodianship of the O'Heynes of Kiltartan (descendants of King   
   Guaire) and their relatives, the O'Shaughnessys, it can now be seen in   
   the National Museum in Dublin (Attwater, Benedictines, Carty, D'Arcy,   
   Farmer, MacLysaght, Montague, Stokes).   
      
   Other tales are recounted about Saint Colman, who loved birds and   
   animals. He had a pet rooster who served as an alarm clock at a time   
   before there were such modern conveniences. The rooster would begin   
   his song at the breaking of dawn and continue until Colman would come   
   out and speak to it. Colman would then call the other monks to prayer   
   by ringing the bells.   
      
   But the monks wanted to pray the night hours, too, and couldn't count   
   on the rooster to awaken them at midnight and 3:00 a.m. So Colman made   
   a pet out of a mouse that often kept him company in the night by   
   giving it crumbs to eat. Eventually the mouse was tamed and Colman   
   asked its help:   
      
   "So you are awake all night, are you? It isn't your time for sleep, is   
   it? My friend, the cock, gives me great help, waking me every morning.   
   Couldn't you do the same for me at night, while the cock is asleep? If   
   you do not find me stirring at the usual time, couldn't you call me?   
   Will you do that?"   
      
   It was a long time before Colman tested the understanding of the   
   mouse. After a long day of preaching and travelling on foot, Colman   
   slept very soundly. When he did not awake at the usual hour in the   
   middle of the night for Lauds, the mouse pattered over to the bed,   
   climbed on the pillow, and rubbed his tiny head against Colman's ear.   
   Not enough to awaken the exhausted monk. So the mouse tried again, but   
   Colman shook him off impatiently. Making one last effort, the mouse   
   nibbled on the saint's ear and Colman immediately arose--laughing. The   
   mouse, looking very serious and important, just sat there on the   
   pillow staring at the monk, while Colman continued to laugh in   
   disbelief that the mouse had indeed understood its job.   
      
   When he regained his composure, Colman praised the clever mouse for   
   his faithfulness and fed him extra treats. Then entered God's presence   
   in prayer. Thereafter, Colman always waited for the mouse to rub his   
   ear before arising, whether he was awake or not. The mouse never   
   failed in his mission.   
      
   The monk had another strange pet: a fly. Each day Colman would spend   
   some time reading a large, awkward parchment manuscript prayer book.   
   Each day the fly would perch on the margin of the sheet. Eventually   
   Colman began to talk to the fly, thanked him for his company, and   
   asked for his help:   
      
   "Do you think you could do something useful for me? You see yourself   
   that everyone who lives in the monastery is useful. Well, if I am   
   called away, as I often am, while I am reading, don't you go too; stay   
   here on the spot I mark with my finger, so that I'll know exactly   
   where to start when I come back. Do you see what I mean?"   
      
   So, as with the mouse, it was a long time before Colman put the   
   understanding of the fly to the test. He probably provided the insect   
   with treats as he did the mouse--perhaps a single drop of honey or   
   crumb of cake. One day Colman was called to attend a visitor. He   
   pointed the spot on the manuscript where he had stopped and asked the   
   fly to stay there until he returned. The fly did as the saint   
   requested, obediently remaining still for over an hour. Colman was   
   delighted. Thereafter, he often gave the faithful fly a little task   
   that it was proud to do for him. The other monks thought it was such a   
   marvel that they wrote it done in the monastery records, which is how   
   we know about it.   
      
   But a fly's life is short. At the end of summer, Colman's little   
   friend was dead. While still mourning the death of the fly, the mouse   
   died, too, as did the rooster. Colman's heart was so heavy at the loss   
   of his last pet that he wrote to his friend Saint Columba (f.d. June   
   9). Columba responded:   
      
   "You were too rich when you had them. That is why you are sad now.   
   Great troubles only come where there are great riches. Be rich no   
   more."   
      
      
   Troparion of St Colman of Kilmacduagh tone 8   
      
   Rejecting the nobility of thy birth, O Father Colman,   
   /thou didst seek God in the solitude of desert places.   
   / Thy virtue, like a beacon, drew men unto thee   
   / and thou didst guide them into the way of salvation   
   / Guide us also by thy prayers, that our souls may be saved.   
      
      
   <><><><>   
   Hail Mary of Gold   
      
   Hail Mary, White Lily of the Glorious and always-serene Trinity.   
      
   Hail brilliant Rose of the Garden of heavenly delights:   
   O you, by whom God wanted to be born and by whose   
   milk the King of Heaven wanted to be nourished!   
   Nourish our souls with effusions of divine grace. Amen!   
      
   At the hour when the soul which has thus greeted me   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)