A New Chapter in an Ancient Story: Saint Brigid of Kildare

Céad Míle Fáilte – and welcome to your Letter from Ireland for this week. The hedgerows are still bare here in County Cork, but there’s a hint of spring in the air as the days lengthen. It’s also that time of year when Irish households enjoy one of our most beloved celebrations – Saint Brigid’s Day. I’m enjoying a cup of Lyons’ Tea as I write, and I hope you’ll join me with whatever you fancy as we start into today’s letter.

Last week, I watched my young granddaughter, Aoife, learning to weave a St. Brigid’s Cross from some rushes we gathered. Her five year-old fingers fumbled with the reeds, just as countless Irish children’s hands have done through the centuries. But there was something different about this year – a special excitement in her voice as she announced: “This is for our new holiday, Dadó!”

Indeed, something remarkable has happened in Ireland recently, and it’s got me thinking about how old traditions find new life in changing times.

A New Chapter in an Ancient Story

Last year marked an historic moment for Ireland when Saint Brigid’s Day (February 1st) became our first named female public holiday. After 1,500 years, Brigid – both the saint and the legacy she represents – has been formally recognised in a way that would have been hard to imagine even a decade ago.

I recently received the following from Susan in Toronto:

“Mike, I’ve heard about Ireland’s new Saint Brigid’s Day holiday. It’s wonderful to see these ancient traditions being celebrated in modern ways. Could you tell us more about how Ireland is embracing this change?”

Well, Susan, you’ve touched on something fascinating that’s happening here in Ireland. While our grandparents might have quietly placed their Brigid’s Cross over the door to bless the house, today’s Ireland is witnessing something of a Brigid renaissance.

Old Traditions, New Celebrations

In the town of Kildare, Saint Brigid’s ancient homeland, the celebrations have grown from a local festival into “Brigid 1500” – a year-long celebration marking 1,500 years since her death. The old cathedral grounds now host light shows that would amaze the medieval pilgrims, while local craft brewers create special editions of “Brigid’s Ale” – though I suspect it might be a bit different from what they served in her monastery!

In homes across Ireland, families are rediscovering traditions that many had forgotten. Just last week, I visited my neighbour Jim, who told me his teenage daughter had asked to learn how to make the traditional “Brat Bríde” (Brigid’s Cloak) – a piece of cloth that is left outside on Brigid’s Eve to receive the saint’s blessing. “She found it on Instagram, if you can believe it,” he laughed.

A Bridge Between Worlds

What strikes me most about this revival is how it bridges generations and traditions. In Dublin’s tech companies, young professionals now host Saint Brigid’s Day celebrations, leaving crosses in their break rooms. Local schools are developing projects that connect Saint Brigid’s environmental legacy – her love of nature and connection to the land – with modern concerns on climate change.

The woman who was known as the “Mary of the Gael” continues to inspire, but perhaps in ways she never could have imagined herself. Her values of hospitality, creativity, learning, and care for the environment resonate strongly with today’s generation of Irish people seeking to connect with their roots while facing modern challenges.

So, as I help my granddaughter hang her slightly wonky but lovingly made Brigid’s Cross over the door, I can’t help but smile at how many things change but so many others stay the same. The rushes might now be gathered from urban parks rather than meadows, and the celebrations might include Instagram posts alongside ancient prayers, but Brigid’s spirit of welcome, creativity, and hope continues to warm our Irish hearts.

That’s it for this week. How about you – do you have any Brigids (or Bridgets) in your Irish family tree? Do you have Saint Brigid’s Day crosses in your part of the world? Do let me know in the comments section below.

Slán for now,

Mike.