Quilt Square Two: Discovering Toni

It's kind of a running joke within my circles that I am called Saint Anthony. I have been called this as long as I can remember. The family that started this tradition disappeared in 1976 off of the Navajo reservation after the white police raided for Vietnamese refugees fleeing naturalization. But, I remember them. I don't remember their names, but the mother was always losing things, & she'd mutter them out loud. Apparently, in the midst of my playing (& w/o thinking) I would reply nonchalantly the whereabouts of said object. Whether this was because I was an observant child or just clairvoyant I don't know. I was always told that I was stupid & couldn't see the nose on my face by those that were supposed to care for & encourage me, so I learned not to trust my own skills. But, this Japanese lady knew. So, she called me lil, Saint Anthony, or Toni. I thought it odd as he was a boy.

After my most recent walk through the darkness & almost experiencing death at my own hands, again, God told me to do a few things. Some I don’t understand, like setting up a makeshift studio in a bedroom. & some I do, like researching the saints. I am not catholic, & I have always thought their ways weird & too stuffy. I also see their prayers as if they are too frail & guilty to come to god with a powerful voice. In short, I thought all Catholics were either bullies that forced attrition upon oppressed people (which they have) & were really weak & worshiped graven images & false idols. I still think that they let guilt & fear rule them, & I know they worship graven images & people. However, I do appreciate the saints. They were imperfect people doing a perfect work. 

Saint Anthony of Padua is the Patron Saint of Lost, Misplaced, or Stolen items. He is also the Confessor & the Doctor. He is the lover of children (not in the way dirty way you may be thinking). He really was a good teacher, & he suffered the children as Christ commanded. 

As the Confessor, he wrote homilies that I would be proud to call my own. He questioned the traditional churches about grace rather than commands. I really would have liked this guy solely on his teachings of the word, but I digress.

336 after his death, his body was exhumed for some reason or another, & although his entire body was gone, his tongue remained perfectly intact. It was preserved & is now displayed somewhere or another. Frankly, the place & time doesn’t concern me. He was a great orator & teacher, his tongue. . .  HIS TONGUE! was completely whole! It is displayed in what appears to me to be a giant open-faced vagina sammich, but to each their own interpretation.

See for yourselves:

 

I have since honed my skills of finding things. I am so good at it that some people have calked me from across the US to ask me help them find their car keys. I have done so successfully too many items to count. It spooks most people, & others just take it for granted. But, I know I have this gift. I also have the gift of gab & the ability to teach when the student is ready (otherwise, I am an impatient fuck). What I’m trying to say is that God is showing me connections that may seem minuscule to the average eye but are astonishing when seen through the spirit!