This morning at church we all had our throats blessed in honor of the feast of Saint Blaise (celebrated yesterday, but it’s practical to reach everyone on Sunday for maximum blessings).
We heard the familiar words: “Through the intercession of Saint Blaise, bishop and martyr, may God deliver you from ailments of the throat and from every other evil.”
Little Brother couldn’t figure out why we were forming another line so soon after Communion, and I told him that Father would bless him with the two candles. He was pretty alarmed: “With FIRE on them?”
“No, buddy, not those candles. The ones Father has in his hand. See, no fire.”
After dinner I found the Whispers in the Loggia post about Saint Blaise. Besides the terrific title, there’s lots of good information in there, including this bit:
Another account says that, in the end, his body was eaten by wild dogs. It’s unknown whether they choked.
I was reading the post to Big Brother, who interrupted me at that point to comment: “They wouldn’t have choked. That would have been revenge, and we’re against that.”