Today people would probably say St. Kevin was crazy. He slept in a hole in a stone wall, summer and winter. And he swam naked in icy waters. All for the glory of God and the sins of the world. Back then, maybe they thought he was crazy, too, since they called his chapel a "kitchen", because the tower looked like a kitchen chimney. It sits so lonely and somber now in Glendalough, surrounded by lovely wooded mountains and, nearer, by the ancient, crumbled gravestones of his fellow monks.
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