Who is Angelina?

My earliest memories

are of lectures by my father or mother about how important it was to behave in certain ways and to have the knowledge and skills required of a lady of high birth, such as speaking French or reciting poetry.  My parents regularly explained their well calculated view that a cultured and educated young woman would bring a better match in elite society for the benefit the family.  Their bedtime stories told of how wonderful the future would be when I would marry a well-born young man from a prominent family. They were determined to provide me with a classical education, framed by the works of the great thinkers of old, in both the original Greek and Latin. This was a path normally reserved for children from wealthy or noble families and primarily for boys. 

At the age of six or seven I began to question some of the teachings of both my parents and the priests of our family’s church.  How could they know these things with such certainty?  As I grew older I came to see how the Catholic Church shapes the mind of a child as skillfully as a master sculptor works with soft marble.

My skepticism increased with knowledge.  Sharp words of criticism came to my parents from the parish priests and their acolytes about my irreverent behavior.  It was decided that special measures must be taken to save my soul.  So, at the age of eight, I was put in the care of the nuns at a convent a day’s ride from my home city.

 The opportunity to receive a broad education was a major good fortune for any young person; in that sense I do not regret it.  However, this part of my parents’ plan did not develop as expected, although they understood this far too late.  I was terrified of this idea at first. In time I came to see it as the greatest blessing of my life. Luck was in my favor in many ways.  I found myself thirsty for knowledge of all types and willingly put my full energies into all available subjects. 

Another of the fortunate developments in my young life was the guidance of Alexandros.  He was a blacksmith in the town and a friend to many in this village that grew around the convent over the years. In addition to horseshoes and plowshares, he forged weapons in his blacksmith’s hearth, making and shaping Damascus steel.  Once a soldier, he knew much about fighting. 

I was tall and strong for my age.  While not as strong as some of the boys in the nearby village, I spent many hours over the years practicing with Alexandros and his other students.  Many of the boys wanted to move on to sword practice; Alexandros constantly had to remind them that there was little difference in handling between stick and sword or knife.  I was very quick and understood very well the techniques that we were shown.  Immodestly, it is fair to say that over my time in this convent town I was Alexandros’ best student.  Many a strong young man was surprised when his forceful strike was easily swept aside by a circular parry.  Others were stunned and left gasping for air by a strike in the solar plexus from the tip of my stick or a crack in the shin which left them howling on the ground. 

It prepared me well for the life I’ve chosen.