To the saddness and joy of the Irish!

Burn the groves,

we plant more trees.

Beat us down,

and we will stand on knees.

The snakes went to ground.

Round and round the mound.

Swords have clashed

The lands have bled

Teachers and students

oft’ times have fled.

 

Burn the groves

and we will plant more trees.

Snakes will always live among roots.

Tis a sad day….. for the snakes weren’t snakes, but the teachers of the old clan way. Yet, for the grandparents and their grandparents who left a small green island and brought a new palette of colors to the tapestry that is America, I celebrate. And I celebrate with music, song, and that wonderful Yiddish meal the Irish immigrants were clever enough to adopt from another immigrant group, corned beef and cabbage.

Building blocks for America came from many places. Honor them all. It is the fabric of strength, this warp and weave of many cultures. We are lucky to have it all. The luck of the Irish? That and so many more.

‘Tis a good day to celebrate.

A forum pal pointed the folly of thinking Patrick could turn the Irish by waving a leaf and weaving a tale. I agreed and pointed out that the Church didn’t really win until they incorporated local gods into the Roman pantheon of ‘saints’.

The snakes will always live among the roots

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