After the last few entries talking about doom, destruction, and woe, I felt it was time to change things around a bit. We all have those moments of mirth, the ones that make us smile or even laugh aloud. A funny exchange between friends or a heartwarming note left by a loved one. The things that fill our hearts with glee are that which we live for.
When I hear the word, mirth, I always find myself recalling a poem called Counting Crows. When I first read the short story behind it, I was blown away by the rollercoaster of events, the emotions of the characters, and the way they adapted themselves to their surroundings. Even to this day, I find myself going back and reading the story. It's crazy how easily something under ten thousand words can affect a person.
Mirth | mɝːθ: noun: laughter, humour, or happiness
This particular word always stood out to me as an oddity among all of the words that could describe joy. I feel as though we've shied away from it in the last century, despite its interesting sound and appearance. Perhaps it's like some people's hatred of the word, moist. Perhaps, some just don't like the sound of mirth.
Of course, that's all just speculation on my part. I feel as though I'm just rambling on at this point.
Mirth | mərth: noun: gladness or gaiety as shown by or accompanied with laughter
In the story, Counting Crows, mirth was like the dawn after a night of cold darkness. It was a blessing, won by the main character, Gwynn, with the help of her handmaiden, Robin. Mercedes Lackey described it as her own depiction of what would happen if "a particularly resourceful young woman" were forced into a glove marriage.
For those of you who don't know, the glove marriage was designed for arranged marriages, particularly for when the groom could not be a part of the ceremony. In these instances, a glove would be put in the place of the groom, and a family member would answer for him. In some countries, glove marriages can still be done, though admittedly, arranged marriages are mostly a thing of the past. In Counting Crows, it is mostly the instance of arranged marriage, to the point that Gwynn and her betrothed don't meet until the moment they are wed.
One for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a wedding, four for a birth...
How many crows have you seen lately? What moments have brought you mirth? Let me know about it as well as any new words you have for me to add to my list! Until tomorrow, happy reading!
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