Christ, my mother…

Christ, my mother,
you gather your chickens under your wings;
this dead chicken of yours
puts himself under those wings.
For by your gentleness
the badly frightened are comforted,
by your sweet smell the despairing are revived,
your warmth gives life to the dead,
your touch justifies sinners.
Mother, know again your dead son,
both by the sign of your cross
and the voice of his confession.
Warm your chicken,
give life to your dead man, justify your sinner.
Let your terrified one be consoled by you.
Despairing of himself, let him be comforted by you.
And in your whole and unceasing grace
let him be refashioned by you.
For from you flows consolation for sinners;
to you the blessing for ages and ages. Amen.

–St. Anselm of Canterbury (c.1033 – 1109)

(Prayers and Meditations of St. Anselm with the Proslogion ed. Sister Benedicta Ward, SLG; Harmondsworth: Penguin Classics, 1979).


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