The Guineveres by Sarah Domet

Author:Sarah Domet
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781250086600
Publisher: Flatiron Books

Saint Ita

FEAST DAY: JANUARY 15

Saint Ita was known as much for her youthful beauty as for her purity of heart. Her chestnut hair and round hazel eyes attracted the attention of many suitors, and her father, despite knowing her desire to lead a virginal life, promised her to the most noble gentleman who presented himself, hoping to continue the strong line of worthy heirs. Ita resisted; she fasted for three days straight, taking not a morsel of food nor a sip of water. On the third night an angel intervened, appearing to Ita’s father in a dream. In the morning he relented, and soon his daughter became a nun.

From that point on, miracles surrounded her. Once, Ita refrained from human fare for months on end, eating only of heavenly food. She’d open her small mouth to the sky, stick out her tongue, and chew what appeared to be air until she claimed she was full. During these months, she kept a healthy glow and sharp attentiveness, suggesting to those around her that she never wanted for sustenance or suffered greatly. On another occasion, she healed a man who had been beheaded for unjust reasons. She held his severed head, oozing a viscous liquid from the neck, and twisted it back onto his limp body until his eyes popped open again. On still another occasion, she brought her own brother-in-law who had been mortally wounded back to life. Upon seeing this miracle, her sister fainted and fell into a state of shock; her eyes remained open, but the woman could not speak, not even to articulate her joy. These acts were no great effort for Ita, no more difficult than dressing in the morning or spraying the garden with the water she’d collected from the well.

Quite frankly, she was good at everything. Nearly perfect if, indeed, perfection were an attainable human state. However, perfection alienates. With each miraculous act she performed, it was as though she’d rise, like the thin layer of milk left to warm: separate but a part of the whole. When she’d perform her miracles, the boys at the school she founded—boys who would later become important church leaders—stared at her with wide eyes of wonder. They’d wriggle away when she held them, afraid they’d be turned into toads.

At night, after she prayed, Ita would think of her parents, whose home she’d left all those years ago. She thought of the way her mother washed her in the small lake near their castle. Afterward, she’d float Ita on her back, swishing her gently back and forth in a wavelike motion. With her ears beneath the water, Ita could hear nothing, and this sound of nothingness comforted her somehow. She could see her mother standing above her in the water, looking down with such tenderness. When Ita floated weightlessly, she felt the world could stop, blend colors from the sky and ground, fade away completely, and still she’d be okay.

In these moments, Ita felt a longing, deep inside her, a small pain beneath her ribs.

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