{A is for Ambrose}

 

Long ago, in the land of Gaul, was nestled the beautiful town of Trier.  The hillsides were covered, and still are today, in vines, which – every summer – grow heavy with grapes.  And in one lovely house, on one of those hillsides, lived the family of Aurelius Ambrosius – his very wise and pius wife, his daughter Marcellina, and son Satyrus.  The house was blessed once more with the birth of a baby – another son, whom they named Ambrose.

Ambrose was a very special child.

One day, when his mother placed him in out in the garden in his cradle for a midday nap, a swarm of bees entered from the vineyard and began to dance around the infant’s downy head.  Round and round they flew, buzzing merrily, as his parents gazed on in amazement.  Not a single bee offered to sting their tiny boy.  And just as suddenly as they had appeared, the bees gathered themselves and flitted away back to their hives, leaving on the child’s lips

 

a single drop of honey.

 

“Surely this is a sign that the boy will grow in wisdom, and eloquence, and sweetness!” cried his father.

And he was right.

Ambrose grew to manhood and became a lawyer, then a governor, and was later elected the Bishop of Milan in Italy.  He was known far and wide for his wisdom, his elegant turn of phrase, and his sweetness – especially to the poor.

 

St. Ambrose Day is celebrated on 7th December, during the season of Advent.