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Story: Once
upon a time, long, long ago in a country far, far away, there lived in the County of
Kildare, a very holy woman named Brigid. She was in fact the abbess of a monastery of
brothers and nuns with a few priests. Brigid was a very effective abbess. The monastery
was always neat and clean, the sacred hours were sung punctually and well, the fields were
well maintained, the animals well groomed and they were never permitted inside the
monastery save when the poor dears might perish from the cold when the weather turned
cold. Moreover, while the Holy Brigid ruled firmly, she was kind and good and everyone
loved her. As she grew older she spent much of her time in the chapel praying, though some
smart mouth novices said she was sleeping. As the older monks pointed out to them, in
Ireland sleeping and praying were the same thing.
WELL, one day she was praying and up in
heaven Himself said to Michael, "You know that woman works very hard and does a fine
job. Why don't you go down there, Micky, and offer her one wish. Michael knew that such
offers were always a dicey business, but, like the good angel he was, he did what he was
told. He went down to Kildare and into the chapel and tapped the Holy Abbess on the
shoulder. Brigie, he said, Himself says I should offer you one wish, whatever it is, and
he'll grant it to you.
Brigie was nobody's fool. She knew all about this one wish game. So she said I'd like that
my immortal soul be saved. That's already taken care of, the seraph replied, sure wouldn't
himself be in terrible trouble altogether if he didn't take care of that. Well then I'd
like to make a brief visit to heaven, just to see what it's like, if you take me meaning.
Och, can't we arrange that easily enough? Still you'll have to have a peak in the other
place just for the record. That's all right herself says. Maybe it will scare the hell out
of me.
So in a twinkling of an eye weren't they in front of the gates of hell. And there was
smoke and a terrible stench, and cries of the damned. Michael snaps his fingers and don't
the smoking gates swing open. Brigid peers in and she sees a grand banquet, everyone in
fine clothes and the tables laid with fine Irish linen and Waterford Crystal and Belkeek
china, and there's the finest wines, red and white, from California and Caesar salad and
roast beef with French sauce and seven different kinds of praties and chocolate ice cream
with chocolate sauce and raspberries and whipped cream and Bailey's cream for after
dinner.
And no one was eating. Rather they were all screaming in agony.
What's the matter with them damn fools, the Holy abbess demanded. Take a close look, the
seraph said. So she took a close look and saw that they had no elbows and couldn't eat a
bit of the feast. Get me out of this damned place, she said. It scares the hell out of me.
WELL in the twinkling of a thought weren't they at heaven's gate and all the choirs inside
singing brilliantly altogether. So Michael snaps his fingers and the great cold and ivory
gate swings open.
Like a little boy peering into the knothole in a baseball park, Brigie takes her sneaky
peek into heaven. And you know what she sees? A grand banquet, everyone in fine clothes
and the tables laid with fine Irish linen and Waterford Crystal and Belkeek china, and
there's the finest wines, red and white, from California and Caesar salad and roast beef
with French sauce and seven different kinds of praties and chocolate ice cream with
chocolate sauce and raspberries and whipped cream and Bailey's cream for after dinner. And
they can't bend their elbows either. Only they weren't screaming at all at all. They were
singing happily
What's going on here, she asks? Take a closer look, Brigie.
And you know what she saw? Weren't they feeding one another
So ever afterwards when it was meal time in the abbey, didn't the Holy Abbess herself come
down from the high table and serve everyone else (including the giggling novices) before
she ate anything herself.
Sure, she'd say , isn't earth most like heaven when you're taking care of other people.
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