CHAPTER 3: How the winds changed at his prayer and the rafts, whichhad been carried away, were brought back safe to land
CHAPTER 3
How the winds changed at his prayer and the rafts, which
had been carried away, were brought back safe to land
HENCEFORTH the boy devoted himself to God, and, as he would later recount to his friends, when he prayed for help against frequent and pressing difficulties, he often had angels sent to defend him. He was heard by Him who is wont to listen to the cry of the poor and deliver them from all their tribulations, because he in turn was kind enough to pray for others in similar dangers.
There is a monastery near the mouth of the Tyne, on the south bank, once full of monks, but changed, like everything else, by the course of time, and now housing a noble company of women. These monks used to bring the wood they needed for the house by raft, from a good distance away along the current of the river. One day they had reached the point opposite the monastery and were bringing the rafts in when a sudden gale rose out of the west, scattered the rafts, and dragged them down towards the mouth of the river. The monks inside the monastery saw what had happened and launched out to help their brethren labouring on the rafts; but the fury of the wind got the better of them and they could do nothing. Giving up hope of human aid they fled to the divine – while the rafts were floating out to sea, they came out of the monastery, gathered round the nearest rock and prayed fervently to the Lord for their brethren who were on the point of perishing before their very eyes. The answer to their prayers was long delayed, but when it did come it was clearly the work of God’s providence, manifesting the power of Cuthbert’s prayers. He himself was standing on the opposite bank of the river among a great crowd of peasants. The rafts floating out to sea looked like five birds bobbing up and down on the waves. While the monks opposite were watching in sorrow, the peasants began to jeer at their way of life, as though they deserved such misfortune for spurning the life of the ordinary man and introducing new, unheard-of rules of conduct. Cuthbert stopped their insults.
‘Do you realize what you are doing? Would it not be more human of you to pray for their safety rather than to gloat over their misfortune?’
But they, boors both in thought and speech, fulminated against him.
‘Nobody is going to pray for them. Let not God raise a finger to help them! They have done away with all the old ways of worship1 and now nobody knows what to do.’
The saint listened to them and then knelt down and prayed, bending low to the ground. At once the wind changed right about and bore them safe and sound to land at a very convenient spot beside the monastery. Seeing this, the country people burnt inwardly with shame at their impiety. They gave due credit to Cuthbert’s faith, and from then on never ceased to praise him. The man who told me the story, a worthy brother of this monastery, said he had often heard one of that very group, a simple peasant, incapable of lying, tell the tale before a large audience.