Patron Saint Zita

St. Zita of Lucca lived during the thirteenth century. She was placed into the service of a local family as a servant when she was only one year old. She was mistreated by both her household employers and other servants.

St. Zita remained humble and pious, eventually winning the hearts of those who abused her. St. Zita remained in the employment of the Fatinelli family for her entire life.

St. Zita had hundreds of miracles attributed to her and was named the patron saint of many causes:

* Domestic servants
* Homemakers
* Lost keys
* People ridiculed for their piety
* Rape victims
* Single laywomen
* Waiters
* Waitresses

Many Catholics who have St. Zita as a patron saint wear a St. Zita charm or a St. Zita necklace in her honor. They pray that they too may have the faith and piety of St. Zita. Wearing a St. Zita pendant is a reminder to do charitable works, pray each day, and remain steadfast in work and prayer.

Ballad of Saint Zita (Excerpts) by Bartolomeo Casenti 1616

O Light of lights, Redeemer of mankind,
Whose glory most in mercy shines displayed,
Concede Thy favour to my humble mind,
Increase my feeble memory with Thine aid,
My heart to-day some fitting words would find,
To tell of Zita, Lucca's holy maid:
That Christians all may read her life, and how
She sleeps in old San Frediano now.

Twas in the year twelve hundred and eighteen
This noble flower blossomed first on earth:
And in a poor man's household was she seen,
A household poor in gold, but rich in worth.
Her elder sister led a life serene
Within a convent, ere Saint Zita's birth.
Giovan Lombardo was the father styled,
A worthy parent of a saintly child.

Her mother was so good, that every day
She loved her better, seeing how she grew
In fear of God, and walking in His way
From earliest childhood, with devotion true.
Prayer was her great delight, she loved to stay
In church alone, and dream of all she knew
Of how God lived on earth, and how He died;
Until her heart could hold no dream beside.

Time passed, the girl grew older, well content
To do God's work, whate'er that work might be.
Her brightest hours on her knees were spent,
And little thought of worldly things had she.
One day to saddening care her mind was lent:
'I eat my father's bread, he works for me!'
She raised her heart in prayer: 'O Lord', she said,
'To Lucca let me go, and earn my bread'.

And often through the country far she sought,
If any sick in lonely cottage pined;
She helped them in their need, and to them brought
Of her own food, the best her hand could find:
And clothed them with her garments, caring nought
For cold or hunger, but with willing mind
Gave all, and did her chiefest pleasure take,
In toil and harship for the dear Lord's sake.

That very hour in which her spirit fled,
Young children through the town began to say
(Before they heard), 'The blessed Zita's dead!'
And crowd about the house wherein she lay.
A star appeared, and did much radiance shed,
O'er Casa Fantinelli at mid-day;
Which was to all a clear and certain sign
Her soul had joined the company divine.

And now to end my tale, I must relate,
'Twas April on the twenty-seventh day,
And in the year twelve hundred eighty-eight,
That she from earth to heaven was borne away.
Which day returning, still we celebrate;
And let each faithful soul due honour pay
To her whose life has made the way so plain,
The blessed country of our hope to gain.