Brigid’s Crosses
When I took over management/ownership of the horse boarding business (Willow Run Stables) on my family farm, I did it out of necessity. The buildings were getting run down. The pastures were a sad joke. Everyone involved seemed anxious or angry or sad. So, I rolled up my sleeves and jumped in.
What did I know about horses or barn management? I had ridden untrained horses irresponsibly as a child. I was comfortable around the big beasts. I knew our farm well. Which adds together as not knowing very much at all.
To say I was terrified in my new role, is an understatement. I had amazing help that taught me so very much and quickly—Meghan Carney, Donna Mather, DVM, and Ty Bowells (farrier of much note)—but I was still there, day after day, often alone, with a new chance to fail or crew up every next 24 hour period.
I was already dreaming about willow and weaving and looking forward to the day when I would have loads of it and had brought the barns up to the place I wanted so that I could hand them off to some awesome horse person who could step in with real confidence. And so, while going down some horsey rabbit hole, when I discovered the tradition of hanging Brigid’s crosses on livestock barn doors in Ireland and Scotland, I immediately knew I would adopt that at Willow Run Stables.
I am neither Pagan or Catholic, and so would not have heard of Brigid or St. Brigid (essentially the same individual, though the first is a Celtic pagan goddess and the second is the Catholic Church’s adapted version of the goddess as a sainted woman) naturally. Though if I had to pick one of those paths, I would definitely run pagan-wise, as so much of that tradition is attached to the “turning of the wheel” of the natural world. My profession as farmer already demands my attention to the patterns of bloom and leaf and decay and the changing seasons and so it’s only a hop, skip, and jump over to giving touchstones throughout the year names like “Imbolc” or “Samhain” rather than “the start of tomato season” or “ Crane migration time” or the like. Pagan names are certainly tidier than the phrases I use.
So, I try to refer to the crosses that I make and hang on the barns as “Brigid’s crosses” rather than St. Brigid’s crosses. She’s the pagan/Celtic goddess of Healing, smithcraft, poetry and fertility. Brigid seemed to dabble in a lot and her feast day was the start of Imbolc—the day half way between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox—a celebration that honored hope, the lengthening of days, and the first flush of the growth of spring.
When I discovered Brigid and her crosses, though, I had newly taken over the horse barns. I was so nervous and so worried. And then I found this kindly goddess, revered by my ancestors who, if you just made her crosses out of willow or rushes and hung them on the entry ways of your livestock barns, would bless all of the animals who lived within for the year and protect them from illness and harm.
Do I believe in this? At first? Probably not. Yet I was so worried that I was willing to try anything to keep the horses newly in my charge healthy and well. So, I made 6 Brigid’s crosses and hung them outside of the 2 entry doors of all 3 of my barns. I did it last year, too. I will be doing it this year as well. . . And likely every year until the day I die. Which sounds like belief to me.
Important to note that no horse or cat or dog who has been in the barns when I have hung the crosses has befallen any serious harm. While animals who have come in outside of the blessing of the goddess Brigid have not always fared as well. Is that causal or correlative? I don’t know. But I’m not skipping a year to find out.
And this year, I’m offering a class in weaving the crosses—just in case you want to pick up a new tradition or have animals you love that you would try anything to protect or just want to sit with folks in the act of making things with your hands while learning about a culture different than yours.
Join us if you’d like. I’ll always be glad to see you.
