Ania, feeling overwhelmed, remained calm and reassured her mother, “The moon is beautiful. Just like you, Mathair. Everything will be okay.” She grabbed her hand and squeezed it. The Great Mother broke down to the kindness of her daughter; a kindness that she believed she did not possess. The word Mathair brought her back to the very first time she stole the mother of her babe. Neit arrived minutes after the Great Mother, and he held her as she continued to weep on the ground.
The imperfection that her babe owned was unknown at the time. He was born premature, however, and was the first case in which babies immediately die in their sleep. There is no reason or explanation for this. The Great Mother assumed that her child was napping, but upon shaking him, she realized that he stopped breathing. The babe, however, looked peaceful, as his soul was said to ascend over the moon. The Great Mother wailed desperately in hopes of bringing him back.
“My baby boy,” she repeated to herself over and over again. The hill blossomed of white lilies that danced to the rhythm of the howling wind. The full moon shined brightly below them and was said to weep with the family. The Great Mother sat cross-legged, slowly gazed at the hill, the lilies, the wind, the moon, her daughter, her husband, her dead sweetheart, and began to cry melodically. She began to hum quietly, then her voice gradually ascended to the highest of pitches, then to the lowest in a rhythmic pattern. Her voice elegantly vibrated her mournful words and touched the souls of Ireland. When The Great Mother was not singing, the wind howled her song; then she began to sing again. Such a sorrowful, haunting, and beautiful form of music was never heard in Ireland.
Her husband held her so tightly, and their daughter collected lilies for her brother with unkempt tears. The people of Intalant, as if enchanted, headed to The Great Mother and surrounded her. A pain so great is never felt alone, and a pain so great cannot be described with written words. The men and women quietly mourned while all the children held their heads down in sorrow. The Great Mother continued to perform her song of lament with her body in the hands of her husband and daughter. Although the pain was monumental, so was her true love. All townspeople felt the fervency of a spiritual and cleansing embrace. At her last note, The Great Mother closed her eyes, took one last breath, and died of a broken heart. And so the tale, ever since the demise of The Great Mother and her babe, ends like this to preserve its power:
“At first she shrieked, in the end she wept. Then for the first time weeping and shrieking were heard in Ireland. And thus, keening, a vocal lament for the dead performed by women, was born. The townspeople, as if enchanted, headed toward The Great Mother and mourned with her. They understood her distress. The grief and love were so powerful and majestic that all of Intalant, all of Ireland, wept continually for a year in honor of The Great Mother. Mothers of Ireland continue to call upon The Great Mother and ask for her protection. The Great Mother, mother of Ireland, enforces equality and tolerance for all. She is a symbol of Ireland that protects those of injustice. All hail The Great Mother, keeper of protection!”
Intalant immediately changed their ways and was no more. A town called 'Mathair', meaning ‘Mother’, took over that was welcoming of all characteristics. As such, any form of discrimination was highly unacceptable in the town of Mathair. From this woeful tale, The Great Mother teaches all of Ireland that great power comes with great responsibility. May The Great Mother guide us all to harm none when faced with eccentricities.
Write a comment ...