St. Patrick’s Day has been a tough one for me for the last 30 years.  Thirty years ago our precious Erin Patricia was born on this feast day, and 12 days later she died.  About 20 years ago, I decided that I needed to do something positive on the feast day and stop spending it crying.  Our family is not Irish and corned beef was not part of our culture.  But I decided to introduce it into our annual menu and it was an instant hit.  So now, we eat an “American-Irish” dinner and pray St. Patrick’s Breastplate prayer, and I can pretty much get through the day smiling and giving thanks for the precious life of Erin Patricia.

We have grandchildren who are now involved in Irish dance because my husband wanted us to provide this for them.  He is so dedicated to the mission of getting the girls to dance and outfitting them as needed.  It is a joy to see them develop poise and skill as they learn the steps and perform on stage with big smiles on their faces.  Saturday was our annual St. Paddy’s Day parade.  Here are a few pictures before they headed out.

irish-dancers

irish-boing-boing-hair

Irish boing-boing hair

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Our oldest granddaughter, Lucy, was a gift to us on the 20th anniversary of the death of our Erin.  God is good.  He always provides.

So I wear a bit of green on this day, eat corned beef, and praise God for the life of Erin.

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