Maighread Birdsong - A Walk With A Witch

l Hummingbyrd Give a GiftView All "PRIESTESS MAIGHREAD BIRDSONG" A POSITIVE ALTERNATIVE TO NEGATIVE SAMENESS! OF ANGELS AND FAIRIES... Of Angels and Fairies When I was very young I could speak as clearly as any adult. I’m not sure why but I do remember thinking that to talk was the greatest thing. And so some how I learned to talk before I could walk. It got me a lot of attention at first but some people became afraid of me. I’m sure it must’ve seemed weird that a little girl that could barely walk could carry on a conversation. But there you have it I could talk, but mostly I repeated what was said to me, a bit like a parrot. When someone would say, “How are you today?” I learned to say, “FINE, how are YOU today?” It is a bit different but mostly just parroting what they had previously said. In such a way I learned the art of conversation. My dear granny, my mommy’s mom, taught me verses from the bible. John 3-16 “ For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son. That who so ever believeth in him shall not perish but have everlasting life.” A devout Southern Baptist she would take me to church and all of the people would marvel at my “GIFT”, as they called it. “What a little angel!” they’d say. Granny was so very happy that she read the bible to me every chance she got so I could memorizes its passages. For Christmas that year I was instructed by my dear granny in the telling of the story of the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Starting First with Matthew 1:1, “ The book of generations of Jesus Christ, conception and birth. Eventually ending with the last verse of granny’s favorite Christmas hymn, “Silent Night”. There was a hush in the chapel as I sang. The lights above the pulpit seemed to twinkle as the star proclaiming his holey birth. As I ended with, “Sleep in heavenly peace,” I placed my hands together as in prayer and bowed gratefully. Granny was very proud of me and everyone said that I sang like an angel! I admit I was a bit full of myself. At this point I almost believed myself to be the angel that the parishioners proclaimed me to be. I was four when my father, a devout atheist, decided to put a stop to the whole thing. So one day he taught me some limericks that he had heard at the bar. “There was a man from Nantucket. Who went to hell in a bucket. But when he got there they asked for his fare. He stuck out his bum and said, SUCK IT!” I was so pleased to have something new to share with my friends I repeated the limerick as soon as we arrived at the Sunday meeting. Needless to say, granny never took me to church again. I didn’t realize what had happened at the time and thought that granny hated me. I was a very sad little girl after that and would hardly speak to anyone. I spent most of my time outside in mommy’s garden. Among the lilacs, roses and shrubbery that encircled our yard. It was there I met Violet. She was tiny, purple and smelled like flowers. She had the loveliest soprano voice and she sang with me every day. (Although I cannot remember any of the songs now.) She was fun to play with and I spent all that spring and most of the summer with her. Every morning I’d wake up at the crack of dawn. I was filled with anticipation for the fun and surprises each new day would bring! I was oh so quiet as I slipped out of my bed and into my clothes. Giggling inside myself, thinking of the wonderful games my tiny purple friend and me would play that day. What joy, what fun and laughter filled my child’s heart! One day in particular as I tiptoed out of the back door, I found Violet waiting on the stoop of the back porch. “It’s Summer Solstice!” she gleefully announced. “Time for dancing and trouping about the countryside!” Her sweet little face was all a-flush with excitement and the little curls of her lavender hair seemed to make a lovely tinkling with every gentle breeze.