In the Celtic myth cycles, she is an aspect of Danu, the daughter of Dagda. She is a triple goddess. However, she is not of the maiden, mother, crone variety; she has three different aspects which are all parts of the same ageless goddess. One aspect of Brigid is of poetess and muse, goddess of inspiration, learning, poetry, divination, witchcraft, occult knowledge. A second aspect of Brigid was as goddess of smithcraft, carrying a famous cauldron for this purpose. The third aspect of Brigid was that of healer, goddess of healing and medicine. These three aspects were united through the symbol of fire; thus here appellation as a fire goddess. In various places she was also know as goddess of fertility, the hearth, all feminine arts and crafts, and the martial arts. She was identified with the changing moon and the ox, boar and ram. Her sacred number is 19 (the Celtic Great year -- the number of years it takes for the new moon to coincide with the Sun's winter solstice).

Some clues to her association with fire, and possibly the Sun, can be found in an Irish legend that states that in Winter Brigid was imprisoned in an icy mountain by a one-eyed hag (Calleach, see below). In some places, she presided over thermal springs (i.e. water warmed by an underground Sun...?). But these are speculative.

Brigid had an extensive female priesthood at Kildare, Ireland and an ever-burning sacred fire in her shrine. There were 19 priestess representing the 19-year cycle of the Celtic "Great Year." Each priestess tended the sacred fire in turn, through a 20-day rotation. On 20th day of each cycle the sacred fire was said to be tended by Brigid herself. Her shrine was likened to that of Vesta tended by the vestal virgins in Rome. Its sacred flame was kept burning even after the shrine became a Christian nunnery, until 1220 when Archbishop Henry of Dublin ordered it extinguished.

The Irish claimed that she brought "whistling" to the world, which she invented one night when she wanted to call her friends. She also invented "keening," the mournful song of the bereaved Irishwoman, one night when her son was killed.

The Christians converted the goddess Brigid along with the people of the area. They fabricated an entire history for this "Saint Bridget." She was said to be the daughter of a Druid, who was baptized by the great patriarch St. Patrick. Bridget apparently took Christian religious vows, and was canonized upon her death by the church. She was given sainthood by Pope Gregory I. The Pope told Augustine in the sixth century that Brigid should be co-opted rather than having the Church destroy the pagan sites and customs of the "newly Christian" pagan peoples.

This is a myth of Brigid taken from The Storyteller's Goddess referenced Below. It well described the qualities of the goddess Brigid.

A long time ago, near the beginning, at the first crack of pink in a young morning, near the waters of the magic well, the goddess Bridget slipped into the world and the waiting hands of the nine sisters who swayed and crooned in a great circle around her. The waters of the magic well burbled their joy.

Up rose a column of fire out of the new goddess's head that burned to the very sky. Bridget reached up her two hands and broke away a flaming plume from her crown of fire and dropped it on the ground before her. There it leapt and shone, making the hearth of the house of the goddess.

Then from the fire of her hearth, Bridget used both hands to draw out a leaping tongue of heat, swallowed it, and felt the fire burn straight to her heart. There stood the goddess, fire crowning her head, licking up inside her heart, glowing and shooting from her hands, and dancing on the hearth before her.

The nine sisters hummed and the waters of the magic well trembled as Bridget built a chimney of brick about her hearth. Then about the chimney, she built a roof of thatch and walls of stone. And so it was that by the waters of the magic well the goddess finished the house in which she keeps the four fires which have served her people forevermore.

Out of the fire on Bridget's hands baked the craft of bending iron. Out of the fire on Bridget's hearth and the waters of her magic well came the healing teas. Out of the fire on Bridget's head flared out writing and poetry. Out of the fire in Bridget's heart spread the heat of compassion.

Word of the gifts of Bridget's fires traveled wide. People flocked to learn from Bridget the secret of using fire to soften iron and bend it to the shapes of their desires. The people called bending iron smithcraft, and they made wheels, pots, and tools that did not break.

All the medicine plants of the earth gathered in the house of the goddess. With their leaves, flowers, barks, and roots, and the waters of her magic well, Bridget made the healing teas. She gave a boy with weak teeth the tea of the dandelion root. She gave a young woman the tea of the raspberry leaf to help her womb carry its child. An old man, a cane in each hand to help him walk, took from Bridget wintergreen bark for his pain and black cherry juice for the rheumatism. She gave comfrey to a girl with a broken leg and blue cohosh to bring her bloods without cramps. Bridget brewed motherwort, licorice root, and dried parsley for a woman who was coming to the end of her monthly bleeding. "Cup a day," said Bridget, "that you stay supple and strong."

The people wanted Bridget's recipes. "But we can't remember which plants for which healings, where to gather them or how long to steep them," they told Bridget.

The fire on Bridget's head blazed bright. She took up a blackened stick and made marks with it on a flat piece of bark."These are the talking marks," She said. "They are the way to remember what you don't want to forget."

The talking marks also let the people write down the stories of her wisdom.

Once two men with terrible stories of leprosy came to Bridget.

"Bathe yourself in my well." said Bridget to the first man. At every place Bridget's waters touched, the man's skin turned whole again.

"Now bathe your friend," said Bridget.

Repulsed, the man backed away from his friend. "I cannot touch him," he said.

"Then you are not truly healed," said the goddess. And she gave the first man back his leprosy and healed the second man. "Return to me with compassion," she said to the first man. "There find your healing."

Every year at midwinter the people than Bridget for her well of wisdom and her fires of hand, hearth, head and heart. "Thank you, Bridget, for the simthcraft, for the healing teas, the talking marks, and compassion. May you dwell with your fires in your house by the waters of your magic well forever."

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