The Legend of the Bleeding Heart Dove

A long time ago, when the hills were green with fruit trees and nothing covered the earth but flowering shrubs and soft grass, two doves, T’apat and Magiliw, fell in love. Their courtship was long and arduous, especially for T’apat, who had to best several suitors for the fair Magiliw. And since doves mated for life, Magiliw took her time in selecting a husband. 

But she did choose the devoted T’apat in the end.

Unfortunately, after five monsoons, the pair was still childless. The nest that T’apat carefully prepared every year, remained empty of eggs. And while the other breeding pairs’ dens were noisy with the chatter of chicks, Magiliw and T’apat’s remained silent. They gazed sadly at the hatchlings in the other nests, their tiny beaks wide open as they were fed by their parents.  

A sixth monsoon passed and Magiliw was inconsolable; she had laid two tiny eggs at the start of the breeding season, but although she had taken such great care of them, the brittle shells had cracked after only two days – to reveal the spoiled yolks inside. 

Her sorrow was so great that it filled her completely. 

T’apat tried his best to cheer her up. He journeyed farther and farther from their nest to find the most delectable fruit for her to eat. He traveled past the hills that surrounded their forest home and found a great river whose banks were filled with strange and tasty insects which he caught and brought back for her to feast on. But Magiliw refused to eat; her once plump body began to waste away, her wings began to shrink. 

She became so weak that she could barely lift her head; her magnificent plumage lost its sheen as the purple feathers turned dull and started to fall off. T’apat was afraid that he would lose her, so he flew to the middle of the forest where the goddess and earth mother, Mariang Makiling, lived.

“Please help me, Apong Maria,” he pleaded, “my mate, Magiliw, has fallen into a strange and terrible sadness; she has stopped eating and has grown so weak that I fear she may die, but I do not know what to do.”

The goddess looked at him with love and sadness.

“Magiliw has lost more than just the will to live, T’apat, she has lost her heart.”

“If that is so, Apong Maria, then tell me how to get her a new one.”

“That will not be so easy, my son,” she replied, “it will mean great danger… for you.”

“I am not afraid, Apong Maria, I will do anything to get her a new heart – anything at all.”

“Will you be willing to give up your life for her, T’apat?”

“In an instant,” he replied.

 Mariang Makiling thought for a long time. 

“The creatures in the forest are forbidden to harm each other, so you must fly past the great river and on to the valley where the mortals reside, only they can kill without remorse. Wait by the acacia trees outside their village. Once the moon comes out, the mortals will begin the hunt. Offer your naked breast to the arrow of the great hunter, Lakan Palaso – for he alone has not forgotten the ancient ways and so will remove your heart from your chest and offer it to me. I shall accept your heart and place it in Magiliw’s breast, where it will beat anew.”

The brave little dove nodded and was about to fly off when he stopped and turned back.

“Please tell Magiliw to begin a new life again, Apong Maria, and thank you.”

T’apat flew across the forest, past the great river and into the valley where the mortals lived. He waited in one of the acacia trees until sunset. 

One by one, the stars began to appear in the night sky; soon, there were too many to count. He knew that it would not be long before the moon – and the hunters – came out. 

No sooner had he thought it, when he saw a small group of men coming towards him. It was easy to make out Lakan Palaso, he was the only one who wore the ancient amulets around his neck and wrists.  T’apat flew straight down toward the great hunter and called out:

Strike me, brave warrior, for your aim is true

Upon your arrow, salvation lies

Cast away this worthless body but save my heart and

Offer it to the goddess to give my love another life.

Lakan Palaso heard the cry and the rustling of wings. He looked up and saw T’apat flying toward him. The hunter lifted his bow and took careful aim; he let loose his arrow – it flew straight and true – the brave little dove fell at his feet! 

Later that night, when the other hunters had gone home, Lakan Palaso prepared T’apat’s body for the ritual sacrifice.  

He started a small fire where he would burn the dove’s body, but first he had to cut out its heart and offer it to the goddess, Mariang Makiling, for she was the keeper of all life and to her, the heart of the first kill was always offered. 

He took out his sharp blade and was about to slice into the bird’s chest, when he saw something strange – through the wound his arrow had made, he could see that the dove’s heart was still beating! He ran his fingers gently over its body – it was still quite warm. Then he heard a soft voice behind him.

"Give him to me, Lakan Palaso."

Turning around, he saw a woman whose beauty far outshone the moonlight that gilded the forest; her eyes and long hair were darker than midnight, her lips the color of rose and her gown was as white as starlight. It was Mariang Makiling!  

The warrior knelt and held up T’apat’s body.

“I cannot offer you his heart, Apong Maria, the dove is still alive,” the hunter said.

“I know, but there is someone who needs this dove’s heart far more than I,” the goddess answered as she gently took T’apat from him.

“Do not fear, Lakan Palaso, for I will not hold your lack of offering tonight against you,” Apong Maria said, “I needed to find out how true this dove’s courage and love really were. Your arrow was straight, brave warrior, but it was no match against T’apat’s heart. Go back to the valley and your village and beg your people to never forget the ancient ways.”

The goddess brought the brave little dove back to the nest where his mate, Magiliw, lay asleep. She placed him beside her. Then she bent over Magiliw and blew into her chest – a small wound appeared. 

Apong Maria blew into it again – the wound grew deeper. She tenderly opened T’apat’s breast and took out his heart. She ran her fingers over it, breaking it in two. She placed one half back into T’apat and the other into Magiliw. Almost immediately, the two halves of the broken heart began to beat as one. 

Then she blew into the wounds on the birds’ breasts, the wounds began to heal. 

And to remind Magiliw of T’apat’s courage and love, Mariang Makiling left the marks of the wounds on their chests. That is why, to this day, whenever we behold the Luzon Bleeding Heart’s blood red breast, we are reminded of the little dove’s willingness to give up his heart so that his beloved could live.