We always celebrated St. Patrick’s Day on the 17th. Wouldn’t be any other way for my mom to celebrate her Irish heritage. Had the traditional meal of corned beef (or ham) along with cabbage, potatoes, and carrots. She also planned an afternoon tea with the ladies. She’d serve Irish Soda bread, fresh-baked, complete with caraway seeds.
Those celebrations changed perhaps 20 years ago, when it became easier to join an evening party at Brothers 2. For several years about then, cards arrived at the house signed by “St. Patrick.” Turns out a good friend sent the messages. This friend admitted to it as I was praying with as she was near death. “I was St. Patrick,” this woman told me.
Lots of thoughts about my mother, the Lady in Green, for March anyway. Perhaps she’s had the chance to meet St. Patrick by now. Difficult day for me as I remember mom Helen on this March 21st, the fifth year since she died. Can’t believe how much time has passed. I leave you with this prayer that was so special to her.
May the road rise with you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.
St. Patrick, please pray for us!
Peace,
Deacon Tom
We have wheelchair accessible entrances to the church, social hall, and education center, and reserved pews, as well as fully accessible restrooms.
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