This is always a fun day. I have never gone out and celebrated the day with a bar crawl or anything, but it is still a great day.
I was born into an Irish family. Our family really hasn’t been in America that long. I love that fact. We were raised to be proud of our Irish ancestry. And, we are.
In our small town there was a north side, south side and the east and west end. The ends we didn’t pay much attention to, but the North side hailed a few more Irish families and the South side more Italians. I was raised in the Catholic faith, went to a Catholic school for the first eight years of schooling.
There were three Catholic schools in our town. There was one on the south side, and two on the north side of town. From what I have just said, it seems the Italian kids went to the school on the south side and that left the rest of the Catholic kids to the other two schools. One of the schools was in an area called Palace Hill, we had another name for the hillside, but, I won’t write it here. This hill was inhabited by mostly Polish families. It was a wonderful place, and the food that you could smell and get there, Wow!
Anyhow, I digress. The other Catholic elementary school was St. Joseph’s. Or, as we called it, St Joes. It was where the ‘Mick’ kids went. I went there, for eight years, some wonderful, some, well let’s just say, below par.
Today, I thought of all of this. I do every year. We did not grow up in a generation that pinched you if you did not wear green on St. Patrick’s day. Then, only the Irish wore green. It was not a national thing for everyone and their brother to wear green. So, each year, with my navy blue wool uniform, I would don a pin or a green sweater and knee socks and head to school. The Polish kids always wore red on St Patrick’s day. So, at lunch break, here I would be, in my green at my Irish school. You could always pick me out. I was the tall Irish girl standing in the middle of a sea of red, with my closest friends by the last names of Dolecki, Brzezinski, and Zimoski…. Those are my fond memories of St. Patrick’s day.
I leave you now with my favorite version of the Irish Blessing:
May the Road rise up to meet you.
May the Wind be always at your back.
May you be in Heaven a half hour before
The devil knows you are dead.
Have a wonderful day today, DAF