Under his teaching the boy grew up, learning only to regard himself in the person of God and his neighbours; and with so fervent a love for souls did the holy apostle of Ireland inspire Galonnek, that at the age of eighteen he had no higher wish than to cross over to Brittany, and preach the kingdom of Heaven to sorrowful sinners.
His father and mother, who had then long since been converted, desired to throw no hindrance in the way of his accomplishing this pious work; but embracing him with tears, they bade him God speed, assured that they should meet again once more before the throne of God.
Galonnek took his passage in a boat manned by evil-disposed sailors, whose design was to plunder him; but when they discovered that the holy youth was possessed of nothing but an iron crucifix and a holly-staff, they turned him out upon the coast of Cornouaille, where they abandoned him, helpless and without provisions.
Galonnek walked about a long time, not knowing where he was, but perfectly tranquil in his mind, certain that he was in his Master’s kingdom. The sea that roared behind him, the birds that warbled in the bushes, and the wind murmuring in the leaves, all spoke alike to him, each with its own peculiar voice, the name of that Master whose creatures and subjects they were.
He came at length, towards evening, to a part of the country lying between Audierne and Plougastel-des-Montagnes, and there finding a village, he seated himself on the doorstep of the first house, awaiting an invitation to enter.
But, far from that, the owner of the house bade him rise and go away. Galonnek then went to the door of the next house, and received the same inhospitable order; and so on from door to door throughout the village. And from the expression every where used to him, zevel, this village was afterwards called Plouzevel, literally, people who said, Get up.
The saint was preparing to stretch his weary limbs by the roadside, when he perceived a cabin which he had not yet noticed, and drew near the door.
It was the dwelling of a poor widow, possessed only of a few acres of barren land, which she had no longer strength to till. But if the fruits of her land were little worth, those of her heart were rich and plentiful. So tenderly generous was her charity, that if any one asked her for a draught of goat’s milk, she would give him cream; and if one begged for cream, she would have been ready to bestow the goat itself.
She received Galonnek as if he had been her dearly-beloved son, long absent, and supposed dead. She ministered to him of the best she had, listening with devotion to his holy teaching; and having already charity, the very key of true religion, she was ready to embrace with all her heart the faith of Christ. So early as the very next morning she begged the grace of baptism; and Galonnek, seeing that the love of her neighbours had already made her a Christian in intention, consented to bestow it. But water was wanted at the moment of the ceremony; and St. Galonnek going out, took a spade, and digging for a few moments in the old woman’s little courtyard, there sprung out an abundant fountain; and he said,
“By the aid of this water your barren land will become fertile meadows covered with rich grass, and you will be able to feed as many cows in your new pastures as you have now goats browsing on your heath.”