** Window display at Evangeline’s, Old Sacramento, CA. ©Tracy J Thomas, 2015. All rights reserved. **
Every St. Patrick’s Day I think about my favorite grandmother. She was as Irish as they come. She did have some noble French blood traceable back to the time the French Hugenots were driven from France mixed in with a bit of this and that, but she had more fun embracing and identifying with her Irish side.
There was no one in this world who could tell a story the way my grandmother could. On St. patrick’s day she would don her apron and spend all day in the kitchen cooking corned beef and cabbage. Later in the evening with her grandchildren gathered about her feet, she would sit in her rocker and in her best Irish brogue, spin tales of Leprechauns, pots of gold, and St. Paddy himself. We were mesmerized as we hung on every word that poured forth from her mouth in the language of our ancestors.
Her own mother, who I unfortunately never met, came to the U.S. from Ireland as a wee little lassie. My grandmother’s brogue was a part of her own mother and grandmother she loved to mimic when the appropriate occasion would arise. To this day I myself love to break into a bit of the brogue and whenever I do, I feel my grandmother smiling down on me for carrying on a piece of our history.
So to all of you who are of Irish descent and to those of you who simply like to try on a bit of Irish for a day, I say to you (imagine me with an Irish accent) what my grandmother used to say:
“May you be poor in misfortune,
Rich in blessings,
Slow to make enemies,
Quick to make friends,
But rich or poor, quick or slow,
May you know nothing but happiness
From this day forward.”
Beannachtam na Femle Padraig!
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