A Day and a Life

By Penelope Wilcock

The monastic rhythm of life at St Alcuins means that all is peaceful on the surface, but beneath there are strong currents as each monk contends with his own hopes, fears, challenges, and temptations. 

Not every monk is settled and secure. Sadness permeates the monastery when it is discovered early one morning that one of the novices, Brother Cedd, has disappeared. It quickly becomes clear that disturbance in the life of one can impact many. As the day goes on, the question looms: will Brother Cedd return? And what will be the consequences if he doesn't? 

In this moving conclusion to The Hawk and the Dove series, Pen Wilcock describes a single day in the life of the community weaving a deeply touching, frank, and witty tapestry of monastic life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lion Fiction
• Release date: Jun 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781782642015

Penelope Wilcock

Pen Wilcock is the author of The Hawk and the Dove series and many other books such as In Celebration of Simplicity and 100 Stand-Alone Bible Studies. She has many years of experience as a Methodist minister and has worked as a hospice and school chaplain. She has five adult daughters and lives in Hastings, East Sussex. She writes a successful blog: Kindred of the Quiet Way.

Book preview

Chapter

One

It starts in the deepest darkness of the night. The call of a hunting owl. Across the valley, the loud, melodramatic yapping of a vixen. No other sound. The hens are asleep on their roosts, close together, their heads tucked down. The sheep, packed tight in the byre, breathe air warmed by each other’s bodies. The calf sleeps close against the warm belly of her slumbering mother.

The abbey lies under a gibbous moon, rapt in the Grand Silence. Clouds drift. How profound is the night, and sometimes how terrible. Dreams. Death. Darkness. Demons of insecurity, terror, loneliness, regret are let loose. But at this hour, who is stirring?

In the infirmary, small lights burn. The two men who have kept watch over the sick make their second round of the dark hours, quietly and without fuss: turning those who can no longer move, changing wet sheets, checking all is well. Brother Michael holds the lantern up, so he and Brother Benedict can see their way along the passage. The place where they are is eaten by shadows, but the warm, dancing halo of candlelight illumines Michael’s face. Even in the crumpled weariness of the depth of night, you can see the kindness. You would trust this man, with your life – and many do. Benedict is new to working through the night. He took his solemn vows – his life vows – in the summer. In his novitiate year, they let him go to bed. But here, someone always has to keep watch. Now Brother Damian has been moved to work in the school, and John is abbot, Michael is grateful to have Benedict with him. And they know each other well. The night strips away defences, and bonds form between man and man, in the care of the sick.

The infirmary is set apart from the main buildings of the abbey: the great church, looming up monolithic, a majestic assurance of faith immoveable under the night wind, the shifting clouds, the waning moon. Beside the church, the cloister garth, and set around its verdant square the west, south, east ranges of the abbey buildings, all folded in stillness.

Father Bernard, the sacristan, is lost in dreams; just the faintest whistling snore. He has no idea what he dreams, because he never remembers them. He is not tortured by the recollection of deadly sweet concupiscence, the sensual ardour of unconscious erotica: not that it doesn’t happen – he just forgets. The moon doesn’t peep through his window; at this hour she is looking in on someone else.

The sacristan’s cell has been built just a little larger, to accommodate an utterly essential device: the clepsydra. This water clock drips time away until the point is reached when the striking mechanism, operated by weights and a rope, turns the axle so that the flail strikes the little bells, and wakes up Father Bernard.

He knows from past experience of embarrassing human frailty what you have to do: get up immediately. The clock will not sound another alarm until he re-sets it for the next night. If he lingers for two more minutes, that can lengthen into three… five… drowsing… back to sleep. And an entire monastic community can fail to make Vigils. This must not happen. So the instant those bells penetrate the sacristan’s sleep – and he is listening for them in some buried watchfulness persisting beneath bodily rest – he swings his feet down to the floor, bringing himself to sit upright on the warm hollow of his low wooden bed. And stands up, stiffly, stretching.

Apart from the care of the sick, and the cold nights of early spring when Brother Stephen watches over the lambing, the monastic day begins here, with Father Bernard. He fastens his sandals, his belt. In his cell he has a lantern with a fat candle that burns through the night. Too many abbeys have been rased to the ground as a result of a brother struggling with flint and tinder in the dark. The abbot of this one will not take that risk. So their sacristan sleeps with the light burning, the living flame enclosed securely inside its iron and horn cage. It doesn’t stink like the tallow candles of an ordinary home. Monks prize their bees. The beehive is itself a sort of monastery: Our Lady in her chapel surrounded by her industrious virgin community. And the wax burns sweet and clear, freshening the room. If the sacristan breaks wind as he drifts off to sleep, the flame from beeswax restores the air to purity.

Father Bernard takes up the lantern and leaves his cell. Just outside, on a shelf affixed to the wall next to his door, stands the bell, its wooden handle worn smooth and shiny from the hefting of his hand every night of the year.

He starts along the dorter, making the most unholy jangling clamour as he goes by. Unstinting, as he treads slow and reliable along the passage between the closed cells, the faithful hullabaloo rouses the community out of sleep – ker-chang, ker-chang, ker-chang – all the way to the end and back again.

Doors are opening already as he reaches the night stairs. Going carefully, minding his step, one hand holding the lantern, the other clutching the bell, neither free for the handrail, he goes down to the moonlit cloister. He doesn’t stop to look through the arches at the beauty of the cloister garth bathed in white moonshine, its shadows and shapes mysterious under the stars; he heads for the abbot’s lodge. There he sets down the bell and lifts the latch, picks it up again, and goes through the atelier, stopping outside the inner chamber where the abbot sleeps – ker-chang, ker-chang, ker-chang.

He waits, listens for the sound of the wooden clapper telling him he has succeeded in waking his abbot. Satisfied, he goes out into the cloister, leaving the door open behind him to permit a little more moonlight to shine through, and to save Father John the trouble of groping for the latch of the door in the dark.

By the foot of the night stairs, at the doorway into the south transept of the church, just near the holy water stoup, a stone niche originally intended for a blessed statue makes a convenient place to house the bell while Father Bernard is in chapel. As he places it carefully there, ensuring that the iron tongue so vigorously wagged a few moments before is now hushed, the sacristan is already surrounded by the quietly scuffing feet of the community assembling for prayer. Even given the peaceful monastic tread to which they are schooled in their novitiate years, the brethren descending the night stairs sets up a rumbling like thunder. But here in the stone-flagged cloister, only the ripple and flow of woollen robes and the susurrus of many feet.

Towards the east, in the sanctuary, the perpetual light burns in the ruby glass. High in the rood loft Christ on his cross hangs over this, their world. For a while there is nothing to hear but sandals on stone, robes, the creaking wood of the stalls as men take their places, the discreet muffling of a cough. Then, in the darkness lit only by the sanctuary light, and one lantern, the gathered community comes to absolute silence, ready. The knock of the abbot’s ring against the wood of his stall, and you hear them all rise in the darkness.

"Pater noster, qui es in coelis…"¹ Abbot John begins the Office. Then the Ave Maria and the Credo, facing east, turned towards the source of light and hope, Christ the daystar.

"Deus in adiutorium meum intende."² The abbot’s steady voice speaks into the silence.

"Domine ad adiuvandum me festina,"³ comes back the murmur of reply from all around the choir, then the Gloria.

"Domine mea labia aperies."⁴ Abbot John again.

"Et os meum annuntiabit laudem tuam."⁵

So the day begins, like a birth, from the dark roots of its depth. So faith walks forward, knowing the prayer by heart, not needing to see. Like an unseen river, the quiet flow of chanted psalms, canticles, and responsories carries the community along its current towards the dawn.

Father Bernard bears the lantern, taking it round, keeping watch. He sees a man drowsing asleep, and gives the lantern into his hand, goes to his own place in his stall. And the sleepy one is glad for the responsibility handed to him, to get up, to take his turn at walking and watching. Sometimes it is the only way to struggle up from drowning in the irresistible waves of sleep.

After Matins, the cardinal⁶ Office of Lauds: the Benedictus with its antiphon, the prayers and blessings and eventually the Benedicamus Domino bringing Nocturns to a close. So they go up again to beds by now well cold, sandals shuffling on the stone, the quiet ripple of robes, the rumble of many men mounting the stairs. Then they give the abbey back to the nightwatch of stars as the moon’s remote beauty looks down on them and the great trees ranged about their home sigh in the restless wind.

Back they all come for the Office of Prime in the first uncertain light of dawn. After Prime, the morrow Mass, a pause elapses, spent mainly in the reredorter and taking a quick wash in the lavatorium. Then they break their fast – standing, still wrapped in the Great Silence, just small ale and dry bread now in mid September. Their abbot watches over their wellbeing with common sense and compassion; in the winter he sees to it they have gruel seethed through the night over a low fire and doled out into wooden bowls held in hands numb with cold. But yesterday’s bread is entirely adequate for this time of year.

Keeping custody of the eyes, eating and drinking tidily and quietly, they stand at the tables. Only the abbot catches the attention of the novice master, signalling a frown of perplexity. Father Theodore responds with the slightest shrug, a barely perceptible shake of the head. He grasps the question his abbot is asking; and he doesn’t know either. Yes. Where is Brother Cedd?

As the men go from the frater to the chapter house, they leave their ale mugs on the waiting trays at the end of the long tables for the kitchener to collect and wash after Chapter. Theodore steps back from the stream of men passing through, and waits. They are no longer in Silence, and he murmurs quietly to his abbot when John comes to stand at his side: Shall I go up and take a look in his cell? Now, I mean?

The abbot nods. Please, he says.

He marks time in the chapter house as Brother Giles stands ready at the lectern, waiting for the novice master’s return. He is looking for the expression on Theo’s face as he comes through the door, slips quietly to his place, and takes his seat. Theodore meets his gaze, his face grave – again the slightest shake of the head. Evidently one of their novices has decided to leave them. It happens, and not infrequently like this. A furtive departure without discussion or announcement, as the sun goes down or in the first light of the dawn. His expression sober, Abbot John looks across to the reader, nods his permission to begin.

… let him not neglect or undervalue the welfare of the souls committed to him, in a greater concern for fleeting, earthly, perishable things; but let him always bear in mind that he has undertaken the government of souls and that he will have to give an account of them, Brother Giles reads out clearly. The him in question is the abbot of the community; this one bends his head, looking down at his folded hands. He will have to give an account, he thinks, and the burden weighs heavy. It looks like he’s lost one.

Chapter

Two

I’m all saddled up and ready to go. Any other messages? Anything else you want me to take?

The abbot has asked his esquire to go on an errand. Another poor year for harvests, but in the hills where the ground drains well St Alcuin’s Abbey has fared better than some. Grain prices are high in the market place, and he wants to send his sister and brother-in-law a sack of oats and a sack of wheat. They have a cow, a goat, chickens, and an orchard. He is entirely sure they will have grown a healthy crop of peas, plenty of onions and greenstuff and garlic, and herbs in abundance. But their land is not extensive enough for grain. He is concerned they may go short, and wants them to have this against the leaner days of the winter. So Brother Thomas is taking the abbot’s grey mare. A Percheron, she will carry the extra weight with no trouble at all; and ten miles is not so far.

Abbot John’s brother-in-law, William de Bulmer, is capable and shrewd, but his work has been more concerned with management and money than hedging and ditching or mending tumbledown buildings. Brother Thomas has no doubt in his mind that when he reaches Caldbeck there’ll be any number of minor repairs that could use the skill of a handy man. There’ll be more to this day than dropping off a couple of bags of supplies.

If you could take just a moment to stop by the almonry and see if Father Gerard has something Madeleine might like – I don’t know – a shawl, an apron, anything pretty and useful. And I’ll wager both of them would be grateful for a pair of boots.

In what size? his esquire wants to know.

Oh – yes – I have it here – bear with me. From a box on his table, the abbot takes two sets of two woven tapes, pinned together. The dark one is the length, the lighter one the width. I’m sorry to delay you, Tom; I should have thought of this yesterday.

Aye, you should, thinks his esquire. He is anxious to be on the road, and it irritates him to contemplate how long it might take Father Gerard to sort through their pile of donated boots, to find in the first place one that might fit, and then its mate. But he takes the ribbons John is holding out to him, saying only, Thank you. I’ll be on my way, then. You won’t forget to send someone else to help Father Bernard with the laundry? He heads off towards the door, pauses, turns. Father John – is all well? It occurs to him his abbot looks troubled and preoccupied this morning.

Oh… The abbot hesitates. He doesn’t want to make too much of this. Who knows how it may turn out. I’ve lost something, he says. But no matter. You get on your way.

The almonry opens into the great arch of the abbey entrance, a door matching that of the porter’s lodge opposite. From the small room where Father Gerard keeps his records and inventories – what they have received, what they have given – leads a curving stone stairway to the storeroom above. Jesus was right when he observed that the world would never be short of men and women in poverty. As the fourteen hundreds trudge through decades of wet summers, leaving grain beaten down by rain and rotting in the fields, need has never been greater. They do what they can, at St Alcuin’s, to lighten the load of the frightened and hungry, the care-worn and cold. Living simply and frugally, no man of them having possessions of his own, working together and pooling skills and knowledge, the community tends to create prosperity. This is the source of the alms and hospitality they offer all who come to their door, whether beggars or guests. It is the duty of kindness, the practical love that stamps them as belonging to Christ. The woolmark of his sheep that says: These are mine.

Brother Tom has to smile when he realizes it was William, spending ten days with them back in May, who sorted and organized the almonry store. Father Gerard lives in comfortable disorder, searching vaguely for what he dimly remembers is there. That’s not William’s style. Muttering, Set your house in order, man, and a few choice expletives on the side, he tackled the mayhem; categorizing, listing, separating, folding, matching. The late autumn and winter is panic season; just now, at the end of the summer, those who will feel the pinch when the cold comes are not too worried. So everything is much as William left it at the start of the summer. And he has his reward now, because it takes Tom hardly any time at all to find two sturdy pairs of boots, a warm woollen shawl, a fine linen kerchief, and a winter cloak. Cross them off in your book, he insists – in case William asks if Gerard checked them out properly.

Then, the sun well risen by now, he is on his way. And his spirits lift. It’s a fine, warm, mellow day, a splendid day to be ambling along the lanes of England, not footsore but riding in style on this strapping, reliable mountain of a horse. He should make Caldbeck by noon. That will give him a good three hours to turn his hand to helping with any odds and ends that could use his help; and back by sunset, in time for Compline.

He’s glad now that he didn’t grumble about the extra task of rooting through Father Gerard’s stocks in the almonry; it turned out there was nothing to it after all. As he takes in the loveliness of hedgerow and trees in full canopy, in these last few weeks before the frosts come, Tom reflects that it pays not to be too hasty; because you never know. And why make someone feel bad when you don’t have to? Why not just be patient, just be kind? If that’s the only gift you have to offer, well, it would be a good one. He pats the mare’s neck and she signals her friendly appreciation with her ears.

In the Chapter meeting, the business for the day is concluded. The novices make their confessions, and leave. The professed brothers make their confessions. Father Francis asks about the arrangements for the tail end of the harvest, which Brother Stephen explains. No other concerns are pressing. The community disperses, about the work of the day.

As the abbot goes to his house, and there sends Brother Tom on his way to Caldbeck, Father Theodore makes his way to the novitiate. Not fast.

Brother Cedd is… where? This – if the absence lengthens into finality – will be the first one Theo has lost. Where is he? The novice master gets up slowly from his place in the circle of seats built into the round walls of the chapter house, slowly he walks across the open space at the centre, the last man to leave, and slowly he walks through the church towards the cloister. He stops by the statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. He takes one of the small candles from the pile there. He lights it, using the taper provided, from the lamp Father Bernard set burning before the morrow Mass. Deep in thought, very deliberately, he sets the candle there at the feet of Jesus. He knows it is only a statue, not the Lord himself, just as much as he knows the light he has kindled is only a little candle – it’s not his soul, it’s not Cedd’s soul, it’s not anyone’s soul, just a candle Brother Mark has made from the abbey’s beeswax. But it’s all he can think to do, this simple token of his soul reaching out – where are you, Cedd? My brother, my son. Please, his heart begs; please, Lord. At least to know, is he safe? Is it well with his soul? Is he at peace? What has happened? Please, Lord. Still he stands there, until from the roots of his love for these young men arises what he really wants to say: Oh, beloved Lord Jesus; won’t you… please bring him home.

And having admitted this is what he’s really asking for, he lets his feet now take

Reviews for A Day and a Life

[julieflaming · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

While many readers might hesitate to pick up the ninth book in a series, this story holds up as a read-alone. Admittedly, there are a few choice details thrown in to satisfy loyal series readers who have follow her saga of the monks at St Alcuin's monastery in Yorkshire during Chaucerian times from earlier installments.Fans of Kathleen Norris' Cloister Walk, will find similar themes centering around the very human struggles of those in religious community. In this fictional account, Wilcock skillfully weaves the inner worlds and viewpoints of multiple characters - the abbot, a runaway novice, a married former brother, a cook, a terrible chess player, a harried sacristan and many others – over the period of a monastic day. The most compelling reason to read A Day and a Life, however, is to experience the gentle drama of the inner struggles of the characters. As young Colin, who is about to join the brothers, puts it, “He had come to see what makes Saint Alcuin's such a special place to be is a mix of respect and kindness, a practical compassion that goes gently in dealing with a man's ordinary frailty, clothing him with dignity again and again ...” To spend a day with the brothers is like pouring soothing salve on a sunburned soul. I highly recommend this book.

[ladyofthelodge · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is Book Nine in the Hawk and Dove series by Penelope Wilcock. Set in a monastery, the story line follows the lives of the monks who are members of the monastic community. The duties, concerns, and characteristics of each monk are described and considered, and are set within the ebb and flow of the daily "hours" of praise and prayer in the monastery. However, the thread that runs through the book is the concern for a missing brother, a young member who is not yet professed. The reason for his going missing and how this issue is solved reveal the only too human fears and failings of human beings. The "day" of the title refers to the journey through a monastic day. The "life" refers to the life of the young missing brother. I will tell how it ends, so as to avoid a "spoiler" here. I enjoyed this book as much as the others in this series. I received this book as an Early Reviewer title.

[sheilacornelisse · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A look into the lives and thoughts of a group of monks at the St. Alcuin monastery in early England. The author shifts between the various characters as they go about their daily tasks and gives the reader an excellent sense of how each man has an effect on the other members of the community. The best word I can find to describe this story is peaceful. The writing style is calming and there are not as many altrications in this, the conclusion to the series, as occurred in earlier volumes. And yet, so much is transpiring that it is difficult to believe it all takes place in a day. A recommended read to escape from the ugly side of humanity into a world of spirituality, forgiveness, and faith.

[bricker-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

An interesting look at what it takes to run a monastery and the crises of faith that even the most devoted people can face.

[ashmolean1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This book is okay. Of course, I did compare it with the Cadfael Series about Monks and mysteries too. This one is rather too slow and plodding with a lot of detail. It was interesting to get to know about life in a medieval Monastery but the plot storyline was a little too thin for my liking.

[forrestandsabrina · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This book is the third and last in a series about a group of monks in the middle ages. I have not read the first two, so it took me a while to catch on to some of the Catholic lingo, and to try to keep the many monks in the monastery straight. The gist of the book (which takes place in one day) is that one of the novice monks has had second thoughts about the life he has chosen, and has disappeared. Will he return? That's the whole story in a nutshell. Not very exciting, yet the author has written sweetly about the different parts of the day and has given a snapshot of the challenges facing the monks. They struggle with the restrictions in a very human way (hating to stop and leave the farming work for a prayer time, for instance), and the setting is charmingly described. In the back of the book is a glossary of terms which I wish had been in the front of the book. I didn't realize until the end that I could have referred to that glossary to find out what terms like "Compline" means. Also, there is some bible quoting in the book, but it doesn't overwhelm the story. If you are looking for a quick read with a mild plot and a feel-good Christian bent, you might check this one out.

[daanrd · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is a lovely book that describes one day in the life of a 14th century monastery from the point of view of individual monks who are at different points in their life: a brand new postulant, a novice monk, the abbot and various monks with specific duties in the monastery. In addition to giving a good description of what it would have been like to be a medieval monk, you really get to know the individuals and their joys and difficulties. Although this is the last in a series, and I have not read the previous book, I did not feel this to be a disadvantage. In addition, though the book appears to be aimed at a Christian audience (in several places the monks discuss the theology behind the monastic life), and I am not a Christian, I also did not feel this was a disadvantage, as it gives the reader an insight into the thinking of a medieval monk. All in all, I think anyone who is interested in getting insight into the monastic life of the middle ages, or just is interested in the thoughts of men who chose that life, and its appeal and challenges, would enjoy this book. It is also beautifully written and a pleasure to read.

[chive_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I feel that I'm at a bit of a disadvantage in reviewing this book as its the ninth in a series and I haven't read the other eight.It describes a day in the life of a fourteenth century monastery as the monks go through their prayers, routines and lives. Several aspects of the book were very good. I was impressed with the discussions of how the small irritations of life which would otherwise be ignorable become matters for huge tension in a community - the fact that someone eats noisily is nothing really, but if you have to sit next to that person every meal for your life it becomes a matter that stirs you hugely.The relationships and friendships between the monks was also very interesting.The only draw back was that the novel was at times quite 'preachy'. There were explanations and discussions of things that were unnecessary and seemed to demonstrate that the author was more interested in converting lost souls then the flow of the book.

[vintagebeckie · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I have loved all of the books in Penelope Wilcock’s The Hawk And The Dove series and am sad that the time visiting with the monks of St. Alcuin’s has come to an end. I actually missed 2 books in the series, so I can dive into those, but when I finish with them, I’ll have to reread. And this series is one that definitely begs a rereading. A Day And A Life, book 9, draws all the threads together from previous books and weaves a story of faithfulness and community. A perfect ending to a lovely series.St. Alcuin’s is a monastery located in Yorkshire during the 15th century. Although though they have contact with the outside world through tenants, pilgrims and benefactors, the monks live a mostly contained life, a life dedicated to prayer, work and service to others. Through varying perspectives the life and lives of the monks are, well, brought to life :)! I loved that Wilcock explores not only the brothers’ outward actions, but their inward thoughts, thoughts that are funny, poignant and extremely human. From a lowly postulant, a novice, seasoned brothers, and the abbot, a picture of what it means to have true fellowship emerges. From the reaches of time comes a story that is more relevant for today’s Christian than may be first expected. The monks struggle with frustrations, self-centeredness, loneliness and fear of the future. An overarching theme of belonging to a larger family — the family of God — is woven throughout the book. There is also the theme of bearing with one another examplified with an amusing dinner scene.Fans of The Hawk And The Dove series will be very pleased with this finale. If you haven’t read any of the books in this excellent series, you are in for a real treat. Start at the beginning and dig in!Highly Recommended!Audience: adults.(Thanks to Kregel and Lion Hudson for a complimentary copy. All opinions expressed are mine alone.)

[mizroady · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Monks always seem so perfect and devoted to their beliefs and practices. As if they were naturally born to step into the role. Ms. Wilcock delves deeply into the emotions and experiences of 2 young men that believe they have received this calling. As they become more and more a part of the daily life of the monastery they feel they do not measure up to the older more experienced brothers. They begin to be overcome with uncertainties and misgivings about their ability to truly serve in this capacity.As they observe and learn they see that all the brothers have faults and weaknesses and many of passed through the same doubts and troubles. The author shows that people are people with their own personalities and character flaws not matter who they are or what they do.The descriptiveness and detail of the daily live in St.Alcuin’s is fascinating. No detail goes unnoticed. What I felt made it even more interesting was the setting of the story in the 15th century.I did feel at times there was so much description that the story line was lost and bogged down. These sections were too wordy which made me have to push on to the next par.A very interesting book.I received this book from Kregel Publications in exchange for an honest review. The opinions I have stated are my own.

[janerawoof · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A glorious, triumphant ending to the marvelous Hawk & the Dove series concerning the thirty-one monks of St. Alcuin's Benedictine Abbey, in 14th century Yorkshire. We follow a day in the life of the abbot, professed monks, novices and a postulant, seeing things through their eyes. We are exposed to their inner feelings: doubts and joys. We follow each as he fulfils his obedience for the day: from farm and garden chores, laundry, scriptorium and illumination of manuscripts, candle-making, to the all-important canonical hours from Lauds [service in the middle of the night] to Compline [evening prayer], as well as private prayer. We sit in on lessons for the novitiate and a choir rehearsal. This gentle, often poignant work, with much Scriptural and pastoral advice I feel will become a spiritual classic one day. I think the author has ended on just the right note. I will miss these old friends. Most highly recommended.

[lamb521 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Title: A Day and a Life (The Hawk & the Dove #9)Author: Penelope WilcockPages: 221Year: 2016Publisher: Lion FictionMy rating is 5 stars.Brother Cedd has gone missing. He is a novitiate; therefore, he has not taken his final vows to become a monk. One morning it is discovered that he has left without leaving word of where he is going or when or if he will return. Brother Clement is devastated as his eyesight is failing and he has come to depend on Brother Cedd to eventually take over his position in the scriptorium. Brother Theodore is worried that he has lost a novitiate from monastic life and that Brother Cedd has returned to the world. Abbot John is concerned as well that he has lost one of his sheep so to speak. Brother Thomas is sent by Abbot John to William de Bulmer’s home with supplies to help see him and his wife through the upcoming winter. When Thomas arrives, he is surprised at what he finds.Brother Cedd has been struggling with feeling insignificant and that he has nothing worthwhile to contribute to the monastic community. He has wanted to be a monk his whole life, but now that he has experienced that life with other monks and seen that each of them have a job and contribute to the fellowship and life of their small community; he wonders what he can give. He has no special skills; he doesn’t have wit; he isn’t particularly smart. Has he truly been called to be a monk? God places people in Brother Cedd’s path to guide him, but He leaves it up to Brother Cedd to choose the direction.As I began reading this final book in this wonderful series, it was with fondness and sadness. Fondness in revisiting with old friends I have come to know over the life of the series in each book and sadness that this will be the last visit to St. Alcuin’s. This book focuses on one day in the life of the monastery and one life as lived by the inhabitants of St. Alcuin’s. The series contains truth for the spiritual life as well as for the life here on earth, even though it is a work of fiction. Our main source of truth should always be the Bible, but this series depicts human frailties and struggles in how to deal with living in a community, being individuals as well as united, the idiosyncrasies of people, their bad habits, their opinions, their mercy, their grace and compassion, their love for one another and living a Christ-like life. I have treasured each book in the series and recommend them to all to keep for generations.Disclosure of Material Connection: I received one or more of the products or services mentioned above for free in the hope that I would mention it on my blog. Regardless, I only recommend products or services I use personally and believe will be good for my readers. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255. “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

[hobbitprincess · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is the 9th and last novel in The Hawk and The Dove series. Wilcock did an excellent job of wrapping up the series by writing a book that reflects a day in the life of the 15th century monastery I've read so much about. There is a small bit of action, but the gentleness of the day reflected in the writing goes far in portraying what a real day must have been like. I know that there is no reason to have another book, that life will go on, there will be problems to handle, and their faith will prevail in the end.