Saint Bridgid

My mom told me yesterday that today was the feast of Saint Bridget or something like that, and that I should post my favorite poem. Without asking why, I immediately went on a search for my favorite poem. It's hard, I have a lot of favorites. And just as I settle on one to post and take a break from cleaning the house to make the post, I start wondering who Saint Bridget is. So what do I do? I bring up Google and do a search. My results were slightly confusing.

The first match I got was Saint Bridget of Sweden. She was an incredibly devout woman who founded the monastery of Vadstena. According to my extensive research, her feast day is October 8th. Well, that didn't seem right, so I kept browsing and came upon a corrected-match for Saint Bridgid of Ireland. This seemed more likely and I read up about her. Apparently she was so devout, kind, and caring for her fellow man that she often gave away things (that weren't hers to give away) so that they could live a better life. Her owner (she was an illegitimit child) was so mad that he tried to sell her to a Scottish king. When she gave away his sword, he went to strike her and the king, who was also Christian, forbade it. She started several monasteries and invented the double-monastery. She is the patron saint of (and I quote the website) babies, blacksmiths, boatmen, cattle, chicken farmers, children whose parents are not married, dairy maids, dairy workers, fugitives, infants, Ireland, mariners, midwives, milk maids, newborn babies, nuns, poets, poultry farmers, poultry raisers, printing presses, sailors, shcolars, travellers, and watermen. I'm not sure how she got such a large patronage, but I found a lot of information on her here. Also, her feast day is February 1st. Whoops, I'm a day late. Oh well.

Hope is the Thing with Feathers
by Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

My mom made a post recently about what makes her day and it made me think about what kinds of things make me happy. Waking up in the morning after a really good dream--I dream a lot-- is always nice. Waking up to the sun shining outside is great, too. I like being able to pull up my blinds and having to squint to see out my window.
I love getting to spend time with my friends. I count lots of people as my friends, I have to say; I give my love freely. I only have a few best friends, though. Four, actually. They always make my day, without fail.
Caryn, or Yami, always finds a way to make me laugh; whether it's replying to my 'booooooored' text with a discriptive day-dream for me to fall into or cracking a joke that only we would get, Yami is always there for me.
Corey (he doesn't have a nickname) is always willing to get up and come over, or to hang out at his place, or even just get dinner at the mall and sit and talk. For all the cracks Yami and I make at his expense, he gets us back with a few good digs of his own.
Brandon, our Token black man (he loves the nickname and more people call him Token than Brandon), is crazy. He's always got a lot of energy and is willing to do just about anything for a good time. He's very acrobatic and I've seen him running up walls--literally--on many more than one occasion.
Gio, the boyfriend, is one of my best friends. He makes me smile, he surprises me, he pisses me off, and then he calms me down again. Sometimes his lack of skill in speaking English can make my brain hurt, but I know he does a lot of it on purpose just to see me twitch.
Holly, the girl from MO is one of the best listeners I've ever met. She's such a sweetheart and sometimes an e-hug and an 'it's okay' from her does more good than any physical contact could. Holly always knows what to say, whether it's comforting, inspirational, bluntly honest, or funny.
I owe a good part of my sanity to those people, and I always try to return the gestures they show to me.
My mom always makes my day, too. She's so cute. When I mention that the little brother of Sense&Sensibility's Edward is really unattractive and she replies with, "Yeah, he's pretty fugly," I laugh. I laugh at her sense of humor, I laugh at the little things she does, like send me pictures of the wind-up toys on her desk or the gingerbread house she made at work. We sit and knit together, we talk about how best to defend against zombies in a completely serious conversation, she suggests building an arc out of wool when the house floods because wool is water resistent, we watch chick flicks together, and when she warns me to put up my window when we go driving in the woods, I know she's going to take a mud puddle for me.
Emily is a strong, independent woman and I am proud to call her my sister. Don't tell her I said that, though. She's smart, she's funny, she's got a sharp tongue to go with a quick wit, and she's always good for a hug when I need one. I admire her for her musical talent. I know I'm 18, but I still look up to her as a pretty darn good role model.
I also love unexpected things, like at my first Otakon trip. My birthday happened to fall on the saturday of the convention, and instead of a cake, my friends stopped by a bakery and picked up some cookies for me. Or when Colleen sends me the next chapter of the story she's writing for me and ends with a cliff-hanger. I love the suspense.
My cousins and my aunt and uncle are always wonderful people. Uncle Rick is the man that, if I ever became president, I want to run the secret service. He's proffessed to wanting the job. My Aunt Anna Marie is smart, she's funny, and she's kind. Maggie, my seven-year-old cousin is a drama queen, but she's cute and funny and pretty smart. Danny, who is two, is an absolutely adorable little troublemaker. He likes to dance, watch Hannah Montanna with Maggie, and show you his toy trains.

Well, I'll stop here before my post gets too long. Hope you all have a good weekend!


Donna Lee said...

Thanks. Now everyone will think I have a potty mouth!

Susan Pandorf said...

I think you are a KEEPER. If Donna Lee doesn't appreciate you, you can come to Fishers and live with me.

And knit zll the Peter Rabbit socks you want...