The monastery had a stone wall all around it.
Brother Patrick took Jack and Annie through the gate.
Beyond the gate was a small church with a hangingbell.
There was also a vegetable garden and six stonehuts shaped like giant beehives.
"We grow all our own food," said Brother Patrick.
"Carrots, turnips, spinach, wheat, and beans."He led them to the entrance of the first hut. Jackand Annie peeked inside. A monk was pulling flatbread from a low stone oven.
"This is our bakery," Brother Patrick said.
"It smells good!" said Annie.
"Come along," Brother Patrick said.
He pointed to each hut as they passed.
"There are our sleeping quarters," he said. "Andthat's where we spin our cloth. In here, we cobble oursandals. There we carve our wooden tools."In each of the huts, Jack and Annie could seemonks. They were busy spinning or cobbling orcarving.
Finally, Brother Patrick came to the largest beehive-like hut.
"I have saved the best for last," he said.
"This is where we do our most important work."He stepped inside.
Jack and Annie followed.
The hut was warm and peaceful, yet very alive. Itglowed with the golden light of many candles.
Monks sat at wooden tables. Some were reading.
Others played chess. Best of all, some were writingand painting in books.
"This is our library," said Brother Patrick. "Here westudy math, history, and poetry. We play chess. Andwe make books.""Jack," said Annie. "I think this is it.""What?" said Jack.
"Civilization!" said Annie.
Brother Patrick laughed. "Yes, this is wherecivilization hides," he said. "On top of our lonelyisland in the sea.""Oh, man," said Jack. "I love this place.""What kind of books do you make here?" askedAnnie.
"Books of wonder," said Brother Patrick. "We recordChristian stories as well as the old myths of Ireland.""Myths?" said Jack.
"Yes," said Brother Patrick. "They were gatheredfrom our storytellers--the old women who sing thetales of long ago, when people believed in magic.""Wow," said Annie.
"Come," said Brother Patrick, "look at the book ofBrother Michael. He has worked on it his whole life."Brother Patrick led Jack and Annie over to an oldmonk. The monk was painting a blue border aroundone of the pages in a book.
"Michael, these two Master Librarians fromfaraway would like to see your work," said BrotherPatrick.
The old monk looked up at Jack and Annie. Hiswrinkled face broke into a smile.
"Welcome," said Brother Michael in a thin, shakyvoice.
"Hi," said Annie.
Brother Michael showed them the cover of hisbook. It was decorated with gleaming red and bluejewels.
Then he turned the pages. Each was covered withfancy writing and paintings in green, gold, and blue.
"I wish I could paint like that," said Annie. "It'sbeautiful," whispered Jack.
"Thank you," said Brother Michael.
"How do you make a book like this?" asked Annie.
"I write on sheepskin and use goose quill pens, saidBrother Michael. "My paints are made of earth andplants.""Wow," said Annie.
"Show Michael what you are seeking." BrotherPatrick said.
"Oh, right!" said Jack. He pulled paper Morgan hadgiven them. He showed the Latin writing to the oldmonk.
Brother Michael nodded.
"Yes," he said with a smile. "I know that one quitewell."Brother Michael turned to the page he had beenpainting with a blue border. He pointed to the writingat the top of the page.
"Oh, man," whispered Jack.
The words were:
Serpens Magna |