Powerful. Personal. Prophetic?
It was St. Patrick’s Day weekend in 2016, and I was out in my garden digging the ground in preparation for the spring planting season. The day was warm, and I saw young people out on the sidewalk decked out in green top-hats and t-shirts making their way to Pittsburgh’s St. Patrick’s Day parade and the revelries downtown. They were laughing and talking and seemed to have a good time. I remembered that during my student years I joined the St. Paddy’s Day parade in Dallas, Texas dressed as an Irish fairy with wings made from coat-hangers and an old bedsheet. I was told that on that day we were all Irish, even I as a German, and I happily danced and blew kisses in front of our home-made float with the poet Gerald Burns, decked out in mitre and chasuble, officiating over the celebration.
I kept digging, happy with…
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