Week 3 Story: The Death of a Robin

The Death of a Robin

(European robin, photo by Jan Meeus on Unsplash)

The breeze tugged at the corners of Kentigern's book, trying to turn the page before he was ready.  It was the after-lunch break at Saint Servan's school, and Kentigern was in his usual haunt, at the base of an old oak tree in the corner of the school's courtyard.  Whenever the weather was nice, like it was today, Kentigern would bring a book, lean his back against the thick trunk, and spend his free hour immersed in the latest book that Saint Servan had recommended and loaned to him.

There was a twitter of laughter from the group of boys on the other side of the courtyard.  Kentigern looked up from his book to see them huddled together, snickering about something they were looking at.  Unlike Kentigern, his peers typically spent their break together in some form of tomfoolery.  And although Kentigern would never admit it, he often wished he could join them in the latest shenanigans.  But Saint Servan had taken a particular liking to Kentigern from the very beginning after he had done so well in class, answering all the questions correctly.  The other boys had developed a grudge against Kentigern for something out of his control, and refused to include him in any of their games.

Saint Servan, who had been walking by, swerved to approach the huddle of boys now, a look of skeptical curiosity on his face.  "What do we have here?" the bearded man asked and peered into the center of the group.  Kentigern kept his eyes trained on the group, the book in his lap long forgotten.

Who knew what the boys were up to now?  Kentigern remembered the last stunt they had pulled, a couple months ago when it had been his turn to watch the fire overnight.  When he woke up around midnight to add new logs to the fire, to his dismay he had found the fire completely extinguished.  Although he had no proof, Kentigern was sure that his peers had purposefully poured water over the flames to put it out.  Knowing that Saint Servan would be furious if the fire was out all night, Kentigern had blown on the embers in a desperate attempt to rekindle the flames.  It was a miracle that night--the fire roared back to life, and Saint Servan never found out.

Hopefully this latest prank had nothing to do with Kentigern--

But as soon as the thought entered Kentigern's mind, Saint Servan turned abruptly towards the boy, and it was obvious from his jerky strides that he was upset.  Somehow, Kentigern had been forced into the situation.  He swallowed the lump in his throat as Saint Servan opened his mouth.

"Well," the teacher said slowly.  "I suppose I expected better from you, of all students, Kentigern."

"Sir?" Kentigern asked.

Wordlessly, an expression of sorrowful anguish on his face, Saint Servan unfolded his hands to show the dead body of a bird inside, its limbs already stiffening and its eyes fixed in a glaze.

Was that ... ?

No, it couldn't be.

Not Saint Servan's robin, the red-breasted female that sang psalms in the morning with the teacher, praising God together in pure, innocent duet.  Who would do such a thing against such a beautiful creature?

Immediately, Kentigern's question was answered.  "The boys tell me you did this, Kentigern," Saint Servan said.  "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I didn't do it!" Kentigern protested.  But he could tell that Saint Servan didn't believe him.  The smirks of the other boys around him brought tears to his eyes at the injustice of it all.  How could he possibly prove his innocence?

Oh, dear God!  Oh, Holy Father!  Kentigern thought in despair.  Help me to prove my innocence!  Bring me justice, for your name's sake!

As he prayed, he took the robin from Saint Servan, and his tears fell onto the bird while he held it.

Kentigern was never exactly sure how it happened.  One moment, his heart felt ripped in two and he was crying and praying through his injustice.  The next moment, the bird was twitching and righting herself back onto her feet, belting out an alarm call.

The flutter of the robin's wings across Kentigern's palm, the spark alight in Saint Servan's eyes again, and the horror that flooded the expressions of the other boys--it was a miracle Kentigern never forgot.

After that day, Saint Servan never doubted Kentigern's word again, and the boy only gained favor in the eyes of his teacher.  All of the boys involved in the robin's murder were disciplined for their deception, and they never bothered Kentigern again.  And the little robin praised her Maker every morning for the rest of her life.

Author's Note: This story is an retelling of the folktale "Saint Kentigern and the Robin."  This version follows the plot of the myth pretty closely.  The biggest alteration that I have made is changing the point of view.  The original story was told in third person omniscient perspective, which meant that the traps that the other boys left for Kentigern were never surprises for the readers.  I wanted to keep it only in Kentigern's perspective to add some excitement to the story.  The original story also begins before the first prank that the Kentigern's peers try, the incident with the fire that I only described in summary here for the purpose of pacing.  I also left the miracle of Kentigern's healing tears more vague than the original story, which made it very clear that it was his tears that healed the bird.  By leaving it more uncertain, I hoped to make the miracle seem even more wondrous and shocking.  Otherwise, though, the plot and the conclusion of the story were close echoes of the original.

Biography: Saint Kentigern and the Robin, from The Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts by Abbie Farwell Brown.