January 6 is a special day in Ireland when we celebrate the women who worked so tirelessly during the holiday period.
Nollaig na mBan—Little Christmas or the Feast of the Epiphany as it is more commonly known—marks the end of the 12 Days of Christmas, a Christian feast day marking the manifestation of the son of God on Earth or the day the three kings were said to arrive in Bethlehem at the stable of Jesus Christ to offer him the gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Traditionally in Ireland (and apparently in Puerto Rico also), Nollaig na mBan is the day on which all the Christmas decorations must come down—not before or after—or else risk bad luck for the rest of the year. When holly was the only decoration in Irish homes, it was taken down on this day and burnt.
Nollaig na mBan can be translated from Irish as "Women's Christmas" and in this lies the biggest Irish tradition on January 6. On this day, the last day of Christmas, women would, finally, get a much needed rest after catering to everyone during the festivities. An article from the Irish Times in 1998 remarked that even God rested by the seventh day, Irish women didn't stop until the twelfth.
In the Republic of Ireland, especially, women would gather in each other’s homes and local pubs for a few stolen hours of gaiety while the men looked after the brood.
Speaking to the Times, Irish scholar Alan Titley remarked that the tradition was most common in the west of Ireland in a litany of different ways. "Most women in west Kerry would have raised five or six turkeys for sale at the Christmas market," he said. "They kept the money - like egg money - and if there was anything left over after Christmas they spent it on themselves."
A common phrase was "Nollaig na mBan, Nollaig gan mhaith" (Women's Christmas, no good Christmas), referring to the lack of plentiful feasts by the time January 6 came around.
"But us women would go visiting that afternoon. It was a very simple celebration, just eating a slice of currant loaf in someone's house and having a cup of tea and a chat, but that was the day you'd do something for yourself and have a rest after all the Christmas work," Siobhan Fahy from Ballyferriter on the Dingle peninsula told the Irish Times.
On the eve of Women's Christmas (Oíche Nollaig na mBan - the subject of a famous Irish language poem by Seán Ó Ríordán featured below), twelve candles were often lit in the windows. In some areas, different people lit each candle and the first candle to go out was said to be the first person to die. Rushes pulled, dried and dipped in tallow were used if candles could not be had.
To me, this is a wonderful holiday as it reminds us, as Irish people, about the strength of Irish women, especially mothers.
I am sure those of you who have been lucky enough to experience some form the famed "Irish mammy" will agree that nothing or no-one compares.
Before Ireland was flooded with money and “notions of upperosity,” the women who went before us were the backbone of the family and seldom received much credit for rearing large families.
These are the women who would have celebrated today and been thrown by the insanity of a few hours peace to themselves with their female comrades from the neighborhood.
My two grandmothers raised 15 children between them, which has many benefits for me as a grandchild and niece, but had obvious drawbacks for them as mothers.
Our female ancestors in Ireland would think nothing of manual labor such as saving the turf, cutting the hay, and whitewashing the barns. Magically, they would juggle such tasks with cooking for their large broods, cleaning, and going through child birth every few years.
In old Ireland, there was no mistaking the fact that the woman’s place was traditionally in the home.
Of course, this fact seems like an insane concept to Ireland’s new breed of high-powered, well-educated women.
Despite our evolution, the heart and soul of Irish women remains unaltered.
When catching a flight back to New York, my mother got up at 5am to make tea and cut thick slices of her homemade brown bread, smothered with her homemade jam, simply because that is what Irish mammies do.
When we were teenagers, all the girls would have a sleepover in Drake's sitting room and the next morning Jenny’s mam would cook us all a full Irish breakfast. I can still smell the Clonakility black and white pudding.
You have an Irish mammy when your friends spend ten minutes chatting to your mother in the kitchen before you realize they are even in the house or when your bestfriend’s boyfriend’s mother gets up at 1am to make you all tea after your night on the town before placing a hot water bottle in your bed.
The click of the kettle as it boils, the softened muffle of the fridge door as it opens, the familiar voice and the warm smile is synonymous with an Irish mammy just going about her day.
And so I think this is one holiday that we should wholeheartedly embrace. Not just for wonderful Irish women and mothers but for females around the world.
At some stage today, take the time to appreciate those Irish women you have been lucky enough to encounter.
We may be getting married later and having fewer children these days, but the Irish blood running through our veins remains the same.
Do you celebrate Nollaig na mBan? Is it a good tradition and good craic that should be continued or does it undermine the strive for equality?
* Originally published January 2012.