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Finally, having done the time allotted them by that cruel step- mother Aoife, the children set off to return to their own
country of Lir. Flying and singing songs they soared through the air. But when they returned, having lived some nine
hundred years as swans, nothing remained of the life they once knew. No one was left of those who they had known
in their lifetime. The castle was empty and nothing was inside of it but green hillocks and thick nettles. Neither fire
nor hearthstone was there to welcome them home. Next day they returned to Inis Gluaire and all the birds of Ireland
gathered near them on Loc na n-Éan, the lake of birds. Everyday they would set out from here to the far parts of the
country, to feed on all the western isles of Connaught.
It was at this time in history that the Saint Patrick arrived in Ireland, with stories of the Christ and the forgiveness of sins.
He was a passionate teacher and through him many priests and missionaries sprang up across Ireland. One of these St.
Mackevig, arrived on Inis Gluaire. On the island he built a small chapel. One of the mornings as he was putting on this
vestments to say mass, he heard a molodious song of the swan children coming across the water to him. “What beautiful
music” he declared. “ ah one who sings so beautifully as that could be singing hymns in my church to praise God”
Searching around the island of Inis Gluaire, the missionary discovered to his astonishment that it was four swans and
not human beings who were making the music. Being a kind man of god, St. Mackevig’s heart was touched indeed by the
suffering of the Children of Lir who were neither swan s nor human. He invited them to come to his church each day as
he thought the mass and praises offered to God would be of some comfort them. On their request , he made them a little
chain of silver , one between Fionnula and Conn and another between Aodh and Fiachra. The Children of Lir told the
priest they would come to his church.
Arriving at the small church the following morning,
there was some trouble about this as holy men from
other islands heard about these enchanted singing birds.
Local people spoke that it was not right to bring a swan
into a Holy Mass or into church. St. Mackevig, however
was a holy man close to God as well as a saint. He knew
that the Almightly would certainly be very pleased to
hear the beautiful music coming from the children of
Lir.
It so happened that at the mass one morning, three bells
rang – breaking the nine hundred year old spell they had
been under. In no time they took their human forms
again. This was the prophecy of their step mother-that
they would once again assume human form when a bell
was rung in Ireland three times each day in honour of
God.
In no time they took their human forms again. Alas, what St. Mackevig saw that day was not the
blooming faces of three young men and a fair young girl
but rather an old withered woman and three frail old
men. Nine hundred years had passed since that curse
had been put on them.
“A pity for you Children of Lir to find yourselves like
this, human beings once more but crippled to the floor
the weight of time on your shoulders.” St. Mackevig then
gave them each a blessing with waters of a nearby holy
well. Soon afterwards, they died. Their time on earth
had been a sad one. Yet it would not be so in eternity.
THE END
© Illustrations courtesy of Pauline Bewick
Pauline Bewick's Seven Ages collection can be viewed at the public library in Killorglin.
http://www.paulinebewick.ie/kerry_collection.html
161
country of Lir. Flying and singing songs they soared through the air. But when they returned, having lived some nine
hundred years as swans, nothing remained of the life they once knew. No one was left of those who they had known
in their lifetime. The castle was empty and nothing was inside of it but green hillocks and thick nettles. Neither fire
nor hearthstone was there to welcome them home. Next day they returned to Inis Gluaire and all the birds of Ireland
gathered near them on Loc na n-Éan, the lake of birds. Everyday they would set out from here to the far parts of the
country, to feed on all the western isles of Connaught.
It was at this time in history that the Saint Patrick arrived in Ireland, with stories of the Christ and the forgiveness of sins.
He was a passionate teacher and through him many priests and missionaries sprang up across Ireland. One of these St.
Mackevig, arrived on Inis Gluaire. On the island he built a small chapel. One of the mornings as he was putting on this
vestments to say mass, he heard a molodious song of the swan children coming across the water to him. “What beautiful
music” he declared. “ ah one who sings so beautifully as that could be singing hymns in my church to praise God”
Searching around the island of Inis Gluaire, the missionary discovered to his astonishment that it was four swans and
not human beings who were making the music. Being a kind man of god, St. Mackevig’s heart was touched indeed by the
suffering of the Children of Lir who were neither swan s nor human. He invited them to come to his church each day as
he thought the mass and praises offered to God would be of some comfort them. On their request , he made them a little
chain of silver , one between Fionnula and Conn and another between Aodh and Fiachra. The Children of Lir told the
priest they would come to his church.
Arriving at the small church the following morning,
there was some trouble about this as holy men from
other islands heard about these enchanted singing birds.
Local people spoke that it was not right to bring a swan
into a Holy Mass or into church. St. Mackevig, however
was a holy man close to God as well as a saint. He knew
that the Almightly would certainly be very pleased to
hear the beautiful music coming from the children of
Lir.
It so happened that at the mass one morning, three bells
rang – breaking the nine hundred year old spell they had
been under. In no time they took their human forms
again. This was the prophecy of their step mother-that
they would once again assume human form when a bell
was rung in Ireland three times each day in honour of
God.
In no time they took their human forms again. Alas, what St. Mackevig saw that day was not the
blooming faces of three young men and a fair young girl
but rather an old withered woman and three frail old
men. Nine hundred years had passed since that curse
had been put on them.
“A pity for you Children of Lir to find yourselves like
this, human beings once more but crippled to the floor
the weight of time on your shoulders.” St. Mackevig then
gave them each a blessing with waters of a nearby holy
well. Soon afterwards, they died. Their time on earth
had been a sad one. Yet it would not be so in eternity.
THE END
© Illustrations courtesy of Pauline Bewick
Pauline Bewick's Seven Ages collection can be viewed at the public library in Killorglin.
http://www.paulinebewick.ie/kerry_collection.html
161
