Have you ever wondered whether the day you were born on reflects the personalities, characteristics and fortune held for you?
Do you believe that a rhyme supposedly put together to help children learn the days of the week back in the 1800’s can hold any truths for your life today?
I am a Wednesday’s child, does this mean that I am full of woe?
Wednesday’s child is full of woe
The saying ‘Wednesday’s child is full of woe’ simply refers to an old English poem that was used to make people believe that a child that is born on a Wednesday will have a life full of bad luck and trouble.
The use of the word woe in the English dictionary today is an expression of grief, regret, distress, etc. In the 17th and 18th centuries, it was more an expression of deep concern, and heavy responsibilities, and it has been suggested that “woebegone” might be more accurate; but “woebegone” wouldn’t rhyme, instead we get “Wednesday’s child is full of woe“
I can remember carefree days playing as a child, by my late teens I had an air of carefree, I don’t care philosophy about me. I enjoyed life, at times probably too much, then I remember noticing the world around me and becoming more aware of the things that life can throw at people.
A combination of moving out of home and learning that bills needed to be paid and my parents moving back to my home town left me with the feeling of overwhelming responsibilities. Making sure that you earn enough to pay the weekly/monthly bills alongside making sure that you enjoy the job that allows you to earn that money. With my parents moving away I suddenly realised that I was alone, whilst I had Mr Boo at my side I had no family close by (300 miles might as well be the other side of the world when you need a cuppa with your mum).
Is life what you make of it? or is it something that is predetermined and we just have to ride out the storms as they appear on the horizon. I hope that just because I was born on a Wednesday it doesn’t mean that my life will be full of woe (well no more than anyone else gets).
