Well, here we are again. At that most wonderful, awesome, sacred and spiritual time of the year.
It’s Saint Patrick’s Day, come Tuesday, and time to have a little fun. It’s time for the wearing of the green, shamrocks, “Kiss me—I’m Irish” buttons, friendly pinches, and drinking way, way too much green beer. Gaudy, and noise-filled parades, and all sorts of other wonderful and wacky modes of celebratin—right along with those most chosen people of God—the Irish.
And the nice thing is that it doesn’t matter in the slightest what your family history or DNA is. On this one day of the year—everyone is Irish.
St. Patrick’s Day, or the Feast of St, Patrick, is a cultural and religious celebration occurring annually on the 17th of March, the death date of the patron saint of Ireland, Saint Patrick (c. AD 385-461).
It was made an official Christian feast day in the seventeenth century and is observed by the Catholic Church, especially the Church of Ireland, as well as quite a few of the others.
It is a day to celebrate the introduction of Christianity into pagan Ireland, but has also evolved into a general celebration of the entire Irish culture, tradition, and heritage.
In few places is it more cherished than in American, the adopted home of heaven only knows how many millions of immigrants of Irish decent.
It was the Irish—along with the Chinese laborers, of course—that largely built America and made it run. Perish the thought that Getty, Rockefeller, Murdoch, or the other veddy, veddy English robber-barons of the nineteenth century should have gotten their own hands dirty in the building of their financial empires.
Someone needed to dig the ditches, drive the cattle, blast-out the mines, lay the tracks, and built the skyscrapers—and the Irish were only too willing to lend a hand.
Without them—well—America simply wouldn’t have become America. And St. Patrick’s day simply wouldn’t be the fun that it is today. And we thank them for it—on the Feast of St. Patrick’s . . . and his very special day.
May the luck of the Irish be with you—on this day—and always.
May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
the rains fall soft upon your fields of gold,
and—until we meet again—
May Almighty God hold you safely in the palm of His hand.
Dumb (Irish) joke of the day:
Question: How can you tell the Irish guy at the Hospital?
Answer: He’s the one blowing the foam off his bedpan.