It’s Tuesday afternoon. We need to rush on Tuesdays. After school, the kids go to Catechesis of the Good Shepherd. This year, Annie is making her Confirmation. We march up the hill to the car.
Every time Tuesday comes around, I panic. I was supposed to talk to Annie about saints this week. I completely forgot. Again. As we pile bags into the car, I speak in a non-stop info-dump.
‘Did you know Saint Claire is the patron saint of television? She basically was the first person to livestream Mass. And Saint Vincent de Paul was kidnapped by pirates? Actual pirates? Did you know that Saint Anthony of Padua once preached a sermon so riveting that all the fish in the river popped their heads up to have a listen? And this was in the days before Toastmasters. Did you know St Drogo is the patron saint of ugly people and also of coffeehouses?’
HOW TO CHOOSE?
There are more than 10,000 saints recognised by the Catholic Church. How do you pick just one? Do you go for an old one surrounded by wacky folklore? Do you go for a more modern saint – one still in living memory? Or how about a great thinker or brilliant theologian?
We turn at the lights and crawl through the school zone. ‘And, of course, you can’t go past the three Teresas’. [Incidentally, this phrase only works if you say it out loud and in plural. I’m talking about St Teresa of Avila, St Therese of Lisieux and St Teresa of Calcutta.] ‘Did you know they are named after each other? That’s why their names are so similar. And St Therese is my favourite, but I really like the other two as well. Did you know St Teresa of Avila and St Therese of Lisieux are Doctors of the Church? That’s how brilliant they are.’
Annie unwraps her muesli bar. ‘You’ve told me that a few times now Mum.’ I nod feverishly at the road ahead. ‘You can’t go too far wrong with Saint Therese. Or any of them, really. The Thereses, I mean.’
Annie’s friends at her state primary school are entranced by the idea that she has a religion that lets her choose an extra name for herself. They immediately set to work researching saints with cute names. There, sadly, is no ‘St Princess Glitter Shine’ or ‘St Twilight Cupcake Sprinkle’’ but they do find ‘St Zelie’ and ‘St Elmo’ and ‘St Rock’. Annie smiles as she tells me this and shakes her head. ‘They don’t really get it, Mum.’
SAINT JOURNAL
Later, after Catechesis, Annie and her sisters climb back into the car. Annie shows me her ‘Saint journal’. ‘I wrote some more in today.’
I flip through the pages – Annie has carefully written facts about several more saints. She has filled in achievements and miracles and interesting facts. She has not included a single Therese or Teresa. Instead, the journal is filled with St Emily de Vialar, Don Bosco, Blessed Frederic Ozanam, St Mary Mackillop.
There is, perhaps, a reason that saints with the philosophy of doing small things with great love resonate with me, a person who gets overwhelmed with overarching ambition and self-imposed expectations. Annie is not me. Annie, who sometimes struggles with self-doubt, has chosen saints who are pioneers and trailblazers. Saints with courage to stand against authorities, to establish orders and social movements. I close the journal. Annie is going to do just fine, whatever saint she chooses.
But I still need to google to see if there is, in fact, a Saint Unicorn Sparkle Dust. I mean, really, you never know.
Kate Moriarty is a freelance columnist, author and reviewer. Under Kate Solly, her novel Tuesday Evenings with the Copeton Craft Resistance is available now.