In the branches, warblers, finches and nightingales sang to their hearts’ content the sweetest songs of Paradise.
For these were angels, who had put on feathered guise, carolling in this fashion in God’s honour.
One fair nightingale, the sweetest singer of them all, held in his right claw a roll of parchment, whereon was written in letters of gold:
“This is the place chosen by God and shown by him to the three maidens for the building of a church to the glory of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.”
Great was the joy of the ladies at that sight, and the youngest said to the angel:
“We see certainly that God loves us somewhat; what must we do now, My Lord Angel?”
“Thou must build the church here, little one,” answered the messenger, “and choose for this work twelve of the most skilled workmen, neither more nor less; God himself will be the thirteenth.”
And having said so much he returned to high heaven.