Rah rah, St. Patrick!

Yesterday, I broke  open the box that contained decorations for "Holidays other than Christmas" and placed a few statues of leprechauns around the room, some candles with shamrocks and similarly enhanced napkins and paper plates on the table, and then began hanging some strings of shamrocks on the beams of the porch. It was a beautiful sunshiny March 16, and I began singing what amounted to St. Patrick's Day carols.

"Hail glorious St. Patrick, dear saint of our Isle,
on your dear sweet children bestow a sweet smile..."

Something like that. I looked around and Phyllis was laughing at my antics, and I realized that her experience in catholic schools was way different from mine. She went to Immaculate Conception School, whereas I was  privileged to go to the school named after the greatest saint of all, Patrick.

St. Patrick rocks. He drove the snakes out of Ireland, he tamed the heathen by picking a shamrock and explaining the inexplicable doctrine of the Trinity. But he probably did his share of tippling at the pub, might have tossed refrigerators or microwaves out the window to get rid of those evils. He was our hero, head and shoulders above others. He inspired raucous songs that bring people together and help us unite in the wearing of the green. What a guy!

What can you do with Immaculate Conception, or if you were unlucky enough to go to St. Peter's, or Paul's, or any of the others? Maybe look with wonder and envy as the real saint is honored, and his revelers rejoice!

Rah! Rah! St. Patrick!