Eulalia only lived for twelve years. She was tortured to death in a series of utterly horrifying ways–because she insisted on being counted among the Christians that were facing persecution.

In fact, like Jesus who split off from his parents during their pilgrimage to Jerusalem to go and talk with rabbis in the Temple, Eulalia escaped her mother (who had fled to the countryside in order to secret her daughter away from the persecutors) by night, so that she might stand shoulder to shoulder with those who shared her beliefs and convictions.

Eulalia’s break with her family’s worries is not unlike one time when Jesus’ own family (including his mother) came to yank  him out of a crowd where he was preaching, fearing that Jesus was in way over his head. Jesus’ response?:

“Who is my mother? and who are my brethren?” And he stretched forth his hand toward his disciples, and said, “Behold my mother and my brethren! For whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother.” [Matthew 12:46-50, KJV]

Eulalia was fearless, so much so that when she appeared before the judge who held the power of her life or death in his hands, she accused him of impiety in his efforts to force people to affirm what they did not believe and disavow what they did! 

Not only did Eulalia call the judge out, but–after a period where the judge first tried to cosset her and then to scare the bejesus out of her (so to speak)–she ran amok in the court, overturning tables (again, not unlike Jesus in the Temple with the merchants) and scattering their incense and salt and religious symbols. And then Eulalia spat at the judge himself! This last, Butler attributes to her youth and the emotions of the moment, but I believe she simply had very few ways available to her to express her disgust at his efforts to twist her away from her own knowledge of herself, her beliefs, her commitment, her faith.

The undoubtedly embarrassed judge then ordered executioners to flay her sides with iron hooks and to set lighted torches to her breasts and bloodied sides. Yet throughout this torture, Eulalia steadfastly gave thanks to her God. When the fire and smoke of her burning body finally consumed Eulalia, Butler reports:

[A] white dove seemed to come out of her mouth, and to wing its way  upward when the holy martyr expired . . . .

Amazingly, even to a twelve year old, some things might well be more important than retaining one’s safety and one’s life (let alone obeying one’s mother).

This is a story of horror and beauty, inhumanity and strength, a child abused yet who refused to be victimized–and it is difficult to look away from all its many textures.

Eulalia. The name is Greek for “Well-Spoken.”