Dydd Iau Cablyd yw heddiw.
Mae pawb yn golchi eu traed yn wyllt rhag ofn i Dewi Sant ddweud rhywbeth amharchus amdanyn nhw yn ystod y gwasanaeth nos Iau Cablyd, a fydd yn ei sied gan ei fod wedi colli ei eglwys.
Dyw Daf y gath ddim yn hoff iawn o gael golchi ei thraed. Dyw hi ddim yn hoff iawn o ddŵr o gwbl, fel mae’n digwydd.
– Daf, dere ‘ma, meddai Jeff. – Ma rhaid i ti olchi dy drâd. Ma nhw miwn cyflwr ofnadwy.
Ond mae Daf yn rhedeg i ffwrdd. Byddai’n well gyda hi golli’r gwasanaeth.
Saesneg / English
Feet
Today is Maundy Thursday.
Everyone is furiously washing their feet in case Saint David says something disrespectful about them during the Maundy Thursday evening service, which will be in his shed as he has lost his church.
Dave the cat doesn’t really like having her feet washed. She doesn’t really like water at all, as it happens.
– Dave, cm’ere, says Jeff. – You have to wash your feet. They’re in a terrible state.
But Dave runs away. She would rather miss the service.
