Make A Wish

I am writing this on my usual afternoon at my usual time but this morning T’s dog, Annie, went to the vet for what could be a serious operation so I am going to make a wish that Annie comes through ok….

...three hours later. We just picked her up from the Vet and she is fine and now I can get on with this blog

Of course that wish I made was of no significance but people have been making wishes for many centuries and for most of that time it was a real act of belief. For instance making wishes on wishbones dates back to the Etruscans in around 500 BCE in Italy. They believed that chickens could predict the future. The wishbone of the chicken was laid out after the chicken was eaten so that they could still access a chicken’s prophetic powers. Why? Because a hen clucks before laying eggs, and a rooster crows when the dawn is near. Obvious.

How about candles on birthday cakes? Well, this tradition was started by the Ancient Greeks, with the round cake and a candle to symbolize the moon and pay homage to Artemis, the moon goddess, with the candle representing the moon’s reflected light. The smoke from the candles is believed to carry the wishes up high to where the deities live. That is why a birthday celebrant is often told to silently make a wish before blowing out the candles.

I’m sort of vaguely aware that coins dropped into a fountain will be used to assist a local charity so I’ve often thrown a penny in and made my wish.

This practice originates from the Celts and the Germans who were the first ones to use this belief system, and their explanation was simple, they thought the water inside wells was accommodating gods, and had been put there by the deities themselves as a present. Throwing coins in was, therefore, a way of giving thanks to the gods.

Since 2021, excavation of an ancient wooden wishing well has been underway in what is now the town of Germering in Bavaria. More than 13,500 artefacts have been found, dating from the Bronze Age to the early Middle Ages. The Celtic clootie well tradition and the English well dressing tradition appear to be related to this kind of ancient well veneration. However, it was surprising when I read that this can gather around 3 million pounds a year in Europe alone when the coins are collected.

It was also surprising that I’ve got it all wrong. Apparently you make the wish first and then throw the coin in. And the wish would only then be granted by the guardian or dweller, based upon how the coin would land at the bottom of the well. If the coin landed heads up, the guardian of the well would grant the wish, but the wish of a tails up coin would be ignored.

I’ve never heard of the following before but there are several sources. Wishing on eyelashes began in the 19th century. A fallen eyelash would be placed on the back of one’s hand and then thrown over one’s shoulder. If the eyelash got stuck, the wish did not come true.

11:11 was a number sequence that some neurologists believed we saw more frequently than could be determined by chance. Because of this belief, many held the number sequence to a higher regard. It is not clear as to why that translated into people making wishes on the number. No, I don’t believe in those.

To finish off, as I do in letters. Why do I write Best Wishes and then sign my name? I rarely mean a lot of wishes, usually I mean just the one, if that.

P.S. And then, excuse the going off topic, but what does signing off with Kind Regards mean?

For the poem I’m going back a few years and a trip I made to the Narodni Museum in Prague. The morning stroll around was really dull. Stuff stuck (literally) behind glass. The first half of the poem set out to be dull. I tried to make this second half not dull:

afternoon

It was finally right,
third step from the top and turning,
the red carpet falling away,
Wenceslas Square framed
through arched windows,
imagining an arm in mine
stepping down slowly
to the music of a string quartet.

In that crowd it couldn’t last
but it took me to a door
where the sound of rain was curious,
a temporary exhibition,
The Waters of the World,
curtained by a wall of water,
lively and alive,
a curtain falling and falling again,
splashing and hiding,
a waterfall splashing and hiding
The Waters of the World.

Excited children ran around
turning to show their Dads
who were turning to show their Moms
who were trying out displays
in the free and easy rooms.
Sea life, water life,
marshes and working mills.

So when I found the Wishing Well
I knew what my wishes would be,
one coin for that arm in mine,
one coin for the music
and one coin for a stream of silver
spilling on marble floors
with limestone falls and lava pools
washing away Museum.

First published in ‘away’, by Poetry Monthly Press in 2010

Thanks for reading, Terry Q.