Feast of St Bridget - Feb 1 - Imbolc

"God bless the poor/ God bless the sick/ And bless our human race..." My friend Kara Beth, though Protestant, loves stuff about Saints and reminded me that today is my namesake's Feast Day. St. Bridget of Kildare is the patron saint of, of all things, POETRY!

I fricken love my saint. Her and St Francis of Assissi--crap if they ruled the Catholic Church, it'd be...well, probably it'd be the modern day Episcopalian church, if not the Unitarian!

Anyway, she's the patron saint of a bunch of weird stuff like dairy maids and kids with dads who beat them (seriously). Here's an excerpt from the book "How the Irish Saved Civilization" by Thomas Cahill, about Brigid of Kildare.

"In these new monastic city-states, a woman could reign as Medb had once done over Connacht. Brigid of Kildare, a convert of Patrick's, (and, perhaps, the noblewoman he describes as 'pulcherrima' [most beautiful, apropos! ;) ]), ruled as high abbess of an immense double monastery--that is, a foundation that admitted both men and women...Brigid [had] druidical associations...she is reputed to have taken the veil on the Hill of Uisnech, Ireland's...mythical center of its cosmic mandala. Her monastery began...under a huge oak, the sacred tree of the druids..."


You know, when I was little, hardly anyone else had my name and it drove me crazy. My name was never on those souvenir mugs and whatnot. But as I got older and learned about the history and significance of my name, I grew to love it. Did my name fit me, or did I fit my name? I don't know. But I do know we are of one mind and spirit.


More from "How the Irish...": "Bridget's monastery was famous for it's hospitality. This is the table grace associated with her name:

I should like a great lake of finest ale,
for the King of Kings.
I should like a table of the choicest food,
for the family of heaven.
Let the ale be made from the fruits of faith,
and the food be forgiving love.

I should welcome the poor to my feast,
for they are God’s children.
I should welcome the sick to my feast,
for they are God’s joy.
Let the poor sit with Jesus at the highest place,
and the sick dance with the angels

God bless the poor,
God bless the sick,
and bless our human race.
God bless our food,
God bless our drink,
All homes, O God, embrace.

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