Happy St. Patrick’s Day to One and All
March 17, 2015
The 17th of March, or the “wearing of the green”, as it
is often called, has come around again with its promise of the return of spring.
It seems appropriate to me, that the coming of spring should be heralded by a
festival whose symbolic color is green.
My first experience with St. Patrick’s Day was in my
kindergarten year and it was not pleasant a pleasant one. My mom got me all
ready for school that morning, but forgot to give me something green
to wear.
When I
got to school that day, the mean kids
that knew about St.
Patrick’s Day rushed at me from every side; pinching me as hard as
they could.
I was incensed and just getting ready
to teach them that they couldn’t treat me that way, when the teacher came to the rescue. She made me a shamrock,
out of green
paper, that I wear for protection for that day.
The teacher also told great stories about St. Patrick’s Day, especially of
Leprechauns, often called the little people, and their
stunts. She also told how we could get their troves of Gold coins by theft. Those
stories made me feel differently about St. Patrice’s Day, and I have loved it “ever since”.
I have often thought about the pinching custom and how
out of harmony it is with the spirit of love and forgiveness shown in the life
of St.
Patrick himself.
I have also wonde-red how “stealing”, the
life savings of a poor little old fellow could be justified.
My next memorable encounter with St. Patrick’s
Day was when I was interviewing with Bell Labs. I had a free day in Manhattan on Saturday
March 16, 1967, (the day St. Patrick’s
Day was celebrated that year) and my friends and I decided to go
to the famous St.
Patrick’s Day Parade. I
recall, there was a freshly painted green line down the middle of the 5th
avenue and that platoon after platoon of Irish American Mounted Police and band after band from the
local Irish
American Catholic high schools marched down the Avenue.
I also recall that, there were policeman stationed at
about 10 foot intervals all along 5th
Avenue to “keep the peace” and that Macys &
Gimbals had changed their names to O’Macys & O’Gimbals. Some people had dressed up as Leprechauns
and every bar & restaurant in town advertised that green beer was available. Nearly everyone
had a badge that read “Kiss Me I’m Irish”.
The flower shops in the subway
stations were all selling little cups of live shamrocks. (I was surprised to see that shamrocks were really small clover. I had
imagined them to be about 2 inches wide and about 2½ inches tall, like the one
my kindergarten teacher had made for me). In any case, everyone assured me
that on St. Patrick’s
Day everyone
is Irish.
One of my good friends at the Labs always wore Orange
on St.
Patrick’s Day, because his family heritage was from Northern Ireland.
He was never harassed about this. People at the Labs seemed to think that “each should be left to their own”.
After moving to New Jersey, I was assigned to make monthly
visits to several Mormon Irish American families. I was often invited to enjoy “corned beef
and cabbage dinners” with them on the “Great Day”. I always looked
forward to this each year.
One of the families I visited even
decorated with strings of shamrock shaped lights, (like Christmas lights). They also had bunches of living or stained
glass shamrocks
decorating their home. Truly it was an occasion to be remembered.
The true story of St. Patrick is a bit vague but
it seems that he was born near the west coast of Britain,
just across from the Isle of Mann, between 380 & 390 AD; at about the time
the Roman Empire was collapsing.
At about age of 16, he was kidnapped
by Irish raiders and sold into slavery. He remained as a slave for about 6
years, before he could escape. One
account said that he felt that he had committed some sort of sin in his youth, for
which his slavery was a just punishment. (I
can’t help wondering what kind of sin would have justified 6 years of slavery.)
His father and grandfather were both Christian
clerics and after his escape, he also decided to become a priest, and carry the
Christian message back to Ireland.
After several years of study he was ordained a Bishop and returned to the place,
where he had been held as a slave, to bring the great message of Jesus, the
message of love, equality and forgiveness.
One of the great stories of his
ministry is how he used the tiny shamrock to explain the Trinity.
March 17 461 AD is accepted as the
date of his death. His life spanned some 75 years and it was full of service.
Since his birth date is unknown, his death date is used to commemorate his great
life and service.
So Erin Go Bragh (Ireland Forever) to everyone, wither they are Irish,
or only Irish
for the day. Let the great message of St. Patrick, the message of love
and forgiveness, truly last forever for all of us.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day
to all, to the Irish and
to those who are only
Irish for the Day,
David & Kathryn
Ann O’Gunderson
P. S. I think that it is ironic that
Ireland’s most
famous son was actually born
in Britain.
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