The Saint and the cup |
Berlindis tended her dad faithfully as his grew more infirm, but wiped down his wine cup before she herself used it. He saw this, and waxed wroth, as they say in the epics. Disinherited, she was. Out the door and down the road.
Always with the cup |
Oddly enough, she was allowed to reclaim the family property after her father's death. So much for his wishes to disinherit her. Perhaps he expressed some regret on his deathbed, or perhaps the local opinion-makers had all thought her badly used. In any event, she buried the Duke next to Nona in the churchyard and established a convent in the old family home. The bulk of the estate's producewas given to the poor as the sisters themselves lived very austere lives. The ground for their mattresses, stones for their pillows, gruel and rough bread for their feasts. After her death, she was buried beside her parents and acknowledged as a saint.
I would have assigned her as patroness of filial concord, but somehow she wound up as a healer of livestock. I'd be more likely to ask Tryphon the Gooseherd's help with sick animals, but folks will ask whatever they want of whomever they want, myself included. So Saint Berlindis, if you've got a moment, give my Dad an encouraging word if you see him around.
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