I wrote earlier this week about my mixed feelings re: St. Patrick's Day. It's true that I will spend time tomorrow thinking about my friend and his family, remembering the week after that tragic St. Patrick's Day--the friendships formed that live on today.
But there is the Irishwoman--the Kerrywoman--in me too. There is the girl who went to Ireland when she was 5 years old and climbed onto the back of a horse for the first time, falling in love. There are the stories of my great-grandmother, running in and out of the cliff caves along the beach in Ballybunion. There is the big, loud, loving, fabulous family that is her legacy--cousins who are among my closest friends. There is the part of me that longs to go home again, to explore beyond my home counties of Kerry and Clare (while the other part of me just wants to stay in those places and relish my family and the history). I love the legends, the stories, the crazy roads, the fog, the cold water, the green fields, the brogue (oh, the brogue!), the colorful homes, the names (Grainne! Mairead! Maeve! Conor! Seamus! Aoife! Ciaran!).
I love the story of St. Patrick too--an alien in Ireland who became THE legend of this land full of legends. He was a teacher, a man of faith, and a servant. He embraced his mission and trusted in God's plan, even when it wasn't easy. Not a bad model to follow!
Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, and in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.
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