Luck of the Irish to ye! St. Patrick’s Day is this Saturday,
and thinking about it beings to my mind my strongest memory of the holiday.
Way back in fourth grade, a week or so before it, word
started going around our school that only those of Irish decent needed to wear
green on St. Patrick’s Day; everyone else should wear yellow.
Of course, being as it was in fourth grade, we all already
knew the “punishment” for not wearing green on St. Patrick’s Day, but this tale
about wearing yellow including that a person should be punished for wearing
green if they weren’t Irish.
Now I knew I had at least some Irish blood in me because my
maternal grandmother’s maiden name was of Irish origin, but come St. Patrick’s
Day it dawned on me I didn’t have anything green in my wardrobe. For that
matter I didn’t have anything yellow. Let’s face it, my favorite colors are
red, white, and blue – guess what was in my wardrobe?
My mother helped me fashion a shamrock out of green
construction paper and pinned it to my shirt. Though being as spring had not
yet sprung, when I entered school that day my coat was covering my shamrock and
my cousin, who was in the same grade as I was, noting all the blue I was wearing,
promptly slugged me in the arm.
I opened my coat and prepared to slug him back, but he
stepped away from me insisting that as we were not Irish. I reminded him of our
shared grandmother’s maiden name then got him once of hitting me and a second time
for wearing yellow. His sister, just a year younger than him, had been wise
enough to wear both yellow and green.
But that is the only year I heard anyone, besides myself,
say anything about not wearing green on St. Patrick’s Day. And, of course, I do
have Irish blood, so after that, I have managed to have something green to wear
for St. Patrick’s Day other than a construction paper shamrock.
Only thing is, after marriage, and not having any kids, I’ve
lived through quite a few St. Patrick’s Day’s where the only face to face
contact I’ve had was with Tom.
Once Tom come home from work and asked me why I didn’t
remind him to wear green. “Uh, let’s see, because I was asleep when you left.” I
also tried to inform him that I forgot and wasn’t wearing green either. Tom was
quick to point out that my flower covered dress had green leaves. That doesn’t
mean I remembered.
And then there was last year. I had nowhere to go; I never
once stepped out my front door, nor did anyone visit me, and with Tom now gone,
I didn’t see anyone, but I did wear green; I guess it’s just part of who I am.
And it makes me wonder why I’ve yet to write a scene
involving St. Patrick’s Day. I know I have stuff involving Easter, Halloween,
Thanksgiving, Christmas, and even New Year’s, but not St. Patrick’s Day. I also have one with April Fool’s day, and I don't like that holiday.
How about you? What holidays do you have in your stories?
And which don’t you have? And why?
Happy writing everyone! 😊
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