Tuesday’s graceful child lets go

You know that old fortune-telling rhyme…

Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace,
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go,
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child works hard for a living,
But the child who is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonnie and blithe and good and gay.

Somehow I got caught up in believing that. Which might not have been so bad had I not also believed I was born on a Wednesday or a Thursday. And had I not taken Thursday’s “far to go” as ominous. Why ominous? I have no idea. Far to go could very well have been an upward reach to the top, but somehow I connected it with Wednesday’s woe and it was just a private pity party from there.
I don’t know why I would entertain that this rhyme had any bearing on my life or personality. Possibly because I heard it so early in childhood.
As I got older sometimes I would read the fortune cookie I got at the end of a meal in a Chinese restaurant, but I never believed the messages and eventually I quit reading them altogether. I never had a Tarot card reading and never went to the fortune-teller tent at the fair. And yet Wednesday and/or Thursday’s child stuck with me.
As I grew older my faith grew into better understanding about my identity. And yet I carried those middle-of-the-week children around my neck as if they belonged to me.

Then one day, years later than it should have been done, I inexplicably looked up my birth date on a perpetual calendar. AHA! Tuesday! Well, that just changed my entire frame of mind and demeanor. Immediately. Instantly.

Freedom is a beautiful thing.

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