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Night, On the Feast of Saint Patrick of Ireland
First thing I did when I rolled out of bed this morning was to confront Mrs. Orr and see if she was wearing green. Foiled again. I usually do some sort of Saint Patrick’s Day post, but after reading Laura Wood’s collection of recent Hibernian posts, I decided it would be better just to link to what she’s written. First, a thoughtful and reverent entry about a prayer some say was written by the old saint himself. Next up, a grim and needful post about the state of Ireland today. And then finally, two items to leave a lighter feel in the heart, here and here. This day has been…
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Padraigh of Erin
A profound pity that the feast day for the patron saint of Ireland, Saint Patrick, is known more for drunken revelry and boorishness than for holiness and piety, especially since the feast in smack-dab in the middle of Lent. Reflecting on the saint’s life, I am grateful for men like Patrick, men who were brave and self-sacrificing and single-minded. How few of them there are today, and even fewer on the horizon and in the cribs. Ah, for a man to drive the serpents from the land, eh? And though it has nothing to do with Saint Patrick’s Day, I thought I would share one of my favorite Irish folk…