Allfather Dagda
When many hear the words 'All Father' for the first time they think of Warriors! Or Champions! Perhaps, Smiths! Maybe even, Sailors! Grand Adventurers All!
And it is true, many Gods from all over Hyperborea are known for these roles, each armed with great and terrible powers. But fir fíréin Éireann, An Dagda; or in English, 'The Dagda, Father of the true men of Ireland'. He above all others holds a most special and dear place in the hearts of his people. A role which cannot be easily overlooked. ...Nor should it be. He holds unarguably the most important role, that of a special kind of hero. One that begins from our very births, from our first bloody cry of resolve and defiance! That moment we lay still and vulnerable, blissfully unaware of the dangers of the world as in swaddling cloth we lie cradled gently in the strong yet gentle arms of the most important man any of us will ever know... Our Fathers.
The Dagda is not merely a warrior, a wizard or a sailor. He is more important than that! Like our fathers, he is always the biggest, most important man in the room. Always finding himself between those in his care and anything that might be foolish enough to threaten them. He tenderly cares for the most dangerous of beasts others would find to unwieldy to handle. He thoughtfully knits sleeping caps and tea cozies for creatures others would find deadly and terrifying to be around, all while pondering only the most important of questions such as 'Will Scruffles like his new hat? ...Or maybe it's more of a scarf.'. Athair Dagda, The Good God is more giving than could be seen as reasonable by any who love him. It's even said 'he'll give you the shirt off his back, the grain from his stores. It's impossible to leave his hall without a full belly and a pocket full of beer. All without a single thought to himself'. He is the man of the village that all look to for wisdom, for kindness, for compassion, for hope... And a helping hand.
This God who is more than a God, he is Thee father present in the nurturing male, the defender. The one who stands between us and the terror of the unknown. It is he who dabs the tears of crying babe. Teaching us to dance as we stand upon his feet. He's the one who sets his pride aside 'accidentally' drowning the cake or burning the tea so that we might learn ourselves that we are capable, and to lend aid. It is he who leads the men in song, and the children in their many grand adventures! This is the man who finds glory in building cottages and tending horses. For this sacrifice; this care, joyously given, he is the most beloved of Gods.
He can be seen in all of our fathers. Our fathers who taught us to fish, to cook, to hunt, to run, to woo, to stand for ourselves and our family! He teaches boys to be men, and women to recognize true men when they see them. This is The Dagda. The Father we all wish to have but more importantly, ...wish to become. The goofy dad jokes, the silly pranks played when our backs are turned, the first beer snuck when mum isn't looking, the tearful pride shining in his eyes when we marry.
No matter the danger, no matter the distraction, The Dagda is always there. A loving father figure and friend to all of his people. A God in which even the most frightened, the most lost of his children, might come to find warmth and comfort in his jolly embrace.
It is him who taught us the true depth of care, how to fight, and so we do.