I Was Four, And Then I Turned Five!

AGNES, SAINT, a virgin martyr of the Catholic Church. The legend of St Agnes is that she was a Roman maid, by birth a Christian, who suffered martyrdom when but thirteen during the reign of the emperor Diocletian, on the 21st of January 304. The prefect Sempronius wished her to marry his son, and on her refusal condemned her to be outraged before her execution, but her honour was miraculously preserved. When led out to die she was tied to a stake, but the faggots would not burn, whereupon the officer in charge of the troops drew his sword and struck off her head. St Agnes is the patron saint of young girls, who, in rural districts, formerly indulged in all sorts of quaint country magic on St Agnes' Eve (20th-21st January) with a view to discovering their future husbands. This superstition has been immortalized in [John] Keats's poem, "The Eve of St Agnes." St Agnes's bones are supposed to rest in the church of her name at Rome, originally built by Constantine and repaired by Pope Honorius in the 7th century. Here on her festival (21st of January) two lambs are specially blessed after pontifical high mass, and their wool is later woven into pallia (see Pallium.)


From the 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica ... ah, just got to love when a copyright has expired! But my first introduction to Saint Agnes came in Amazing Days, the special days compendium/diary I'd gotten for Christmas the year before. January 20 in there was referred to as St. Agnes' Eve (I had no idea what saints were at the time) but the thought of dreaming of the person I might marry -- yes, even at nine years old when I started writing in this -- appealed to me. Apparently the original version of the prayer was girls only (Amazing Days didn't refer to this and made it for both genders, I'm only reading it today, grumble grumble) and involved a wee bit more elaborate prepping:

A Scottish version of the ritual would involve young women meeting together on St. Agnes's Eve at midnight, they would go one by one, into a remote field and throw in some grain, after which they repeated the following rhyme in a prayer to St. Agnes:


“ Agnes sweet, and Agnes fair, Hither, hither, now repair; Bonny Agnes, let me see The lad who is to marry me.”


Okay, THAT I looked up on the Wikipedia entry for "The Eve of St. Agnes." But if you're a boy or man who wants to do this, substitute "lass" for "lad" in the prayer. And now Agnes of Rome has gotten a much longer list of what she patronizes: betrothed couples; chastity; Children of Mary; Colegio Capranica of Rome; crops; gardeners; Girl Guides; girls; rape victims; virgins; the diocese of Rockville Centre, New York; and the city of Fresno. Over seventeen centuries that's still a lot.


Today's title came from a little boy whom we all hope will turn much older than five! If it makes me laugh -- and I generally don't snicker, I laugh out loud, even in the presence of other adults -- it will find a place in something I write, I'm sure of it. The son of one of Martha's fellow choir members said this when he was asked how his birthday went downstairs in Bethany Lutheran last night. Last night was the choir's potluck with their family members and we ate well!


My blood sugar was even down nine points today, a praise God moment for me! (It had been the same number for four days running.) And when I got to Coffee With The Boys this morning, OF COURSE there were some leftovers, even the rest of a chocolate pie with chocolate graham cracker crust and real whipped cream with crushed Oreos on top. And the story of how the person who made it got the recipe ... I heard it today and it's priceless. Of course, I can't share everything here.


But I can tell you that we saw Sarah and Jeffrey's 2nd nine weeks reports, and their grades are all A's!


Hither, hither, now repair,


David