About a metre tall, with chamfered stops at its base and a shallow basin scooped into its upper surface, it functions today as a benniter, the Irish term for a free-standing holy water stoup. What makes it genuinely curious is not what it is now, but what it probably was before someone decided to give it a second life.

The pedestal was brought across the road from an older church site to the north, a fact recorded on a plaque mounted on the nearby wall. Its octagonal form and the chamfered detailing at the base suggest it was not originally made for the purpose it now serves. Researchers have proposed that it was most likely a section of a door jamb from the earlier building, subsequently recut and carved into its present shape. The shallow basin, in other words, is almost certainly a later addition, fitted to a piece of stonework that once framed a doorway rather than held holy water. The exact origin and date of the piece remain uncertain, but the transformation itself tells a familiar story in Irish ecclesiastical history: old fabric repurposed rather than discarded, given new meaning within a changed religious landscape.

The pedestal stands in the open and is visible to anyone approaching the church entrance, though it is easy to pass without registering quite how old or how repurposed the stone beneath the basin actually is.