St. Patrick's Day: the Wearin' of the Green

May there always be work for your hands to do May your purse always hold a coin or two May the sun always shine on your windowpane May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain May the hand of a friend be always near you May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you

It’s St. Patrick’s Day and shamrocks, leprechauns, Guinness, Irish mysticism, charm and landscapes, saturated in green, are the focus of the day. I love green in almost all its shades, except for the loudest, brightest and most artificial-looking. It feels timeless, relaxing, natural. “Green is restful to the eye. Studies show that a green environment can reduce fatigue (Wikipedia).” Athough I’ve spent little time in ‘the great outdoors’, as long as it is reasonably mosquito-less, I enjoy being among nature’s greens: a reminder that life is a journey and hope, gratitude, calm can offset and uplift even when we travel our most difficult paths.

Shamrocks always have three leaves, unlike clover, which sometimes has four. I remember looking for a four-leafed clover when I was little, always hoping to find one.

My fascination with Ireland began, I think, when I read and reread a story when I was a little girl about mischievous leprechauns who transformed themselves into identical images of a baby whose mother was gone for the day and had left the baby in her family’s care. The family panicked because they could not pick out the true baby, but when the mother returned she immediately picked up her child and the leprechauns laughed and scampered away. (Does anyone else remember this magical story? If you do, please let me know what it’s called in the comments. I would love to be reminded.) When I was a teenager, even though our family has no tangible connection to Ireland, I marked St. Patrick’s Day by wearing green. Incidentally, Google informs me that there may be traces of Celtic blood in our family tree as the Celts did pass through northern Italy over 2000 years ago, which might help to explain the red hair and green eyes in the gene pool. I was enchanted by magical stories of leprechauns and photos of Ireland’s gorgeous green landscape. I avidly watched the Irish Rovers CBC variety show, charmed by their accents, humour and music. The TV was mine for that timeslot, which, as the oldest, I remember being a battle, but one that I usually won.

Their songs about the ‘troubles’ between the Orange and the Green, leaving home to emigrate, go to war or join the rebels made me want to learn more about Irish history and literature. Nevertheless, I am really surprised by the length and breadth of Irish authors I have read so far: Oscar Wilde, Edna O’Brien, to Roddy Doyle, Marion Keyes, Frank McCourt and so many others. Clearly, there is a part of me that is drawn to the Irish understanding that there is more to life than can be explained by reason and logic: the humour and especially the acceptance that past and present are intertwined and part of us.

My goals are to find time to read more Irish stories and to one day travel to Ireland, making sure to bring my sense of wonder and an umbrella.