Beannacht Lá Fhéile Pádraig

We are the sons and daughters of Hibernia
proud heirs of an ancient legacy
We’ve settled every corner of the globe
driven from our homeland by famine and oppression,
or simply by the restless spirit that is our birthright.

Wherever we go, we bring with us a love of freedom,
a melancholy humor, a biting wit, and a golden tongue.
But regardless of where our destiny may take us,
we’re linked to the land of our ancestors
by an ethereal thread that binds the heart
and reminds us always that we are a unique people.

WE ARE THE IRISH

***


I wish I could take the credit for such fair words above,
but though they may not be mine, they express
what I feel in my heart.

Recently I was told that I was not Irish because
I was not from Ireland. I was told (as if a child and being
scolded) that I was an American.
True . . . I am an American and a proud of it.
Also true is the fact that I am the grand-daughter of an Irish Grandmother
and a Scottish Grandfather, both of whom were also Americans.
Crazy as it may seem, I have long felt the call, almost longing for a country that I know only in my heart and from books.
To the dismay of my daughter and husband, I love and listen to celtic music which seems to sing in my blood, and there is something about the humor and tales from both Ireland and Scotland, that lightens my soul.
To balance out the accusation or as a means of rebuttal . . . I was once described by a dear friend as having an Irish Soul, (thank-you Mielikki). Why not, I have the temper, and I have been told that I,
as well as my brothers, sister, and my father, are full of it, (I do believe they are talking about shi*t),
and that is loosely the translation for blarney.
Ah well, sure and this St Patrick's Day I shall be lifting a pint or two with my sister,
Aine and we shall toast our ancestors, among other things. I will toast all of you here as well
and wish to you good health.
I hope all of you have a good St. Patrick's Day or what ever day you decide to celebrate.

As for her?
Well, I hold no grudge with this misguided woman.
(At least I don't think so . . .)
I don't expect this her to understand what it is to be an Irish American,
or a Mexican American, you see, she is not even American.
She is but from but one country, but from but one nationality.
She was born there, grew up there, but now lives here, but she hears no call. Her heart is silent.
How sad . . .





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