St. Patrick’s Day!

May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be always at you back, may the sun shine warm upon your face, may the rain fall softly on your fields, and until we meet again may God hold you in the palm of his hand....

When it comes to celebrating to St. Patrick's Day nostalgia reigns and this tale comes from that era in time when the Beatles and the Rolling Stones were in their prime and I was a young girl.

As a child I attended a boarding school in country Victoria, where in the main, a fair number of the nuns in the Convent came from Ireland. The nuns (who I tend to think of as being among our first Australian feminists) all had their designated jobs from teaching through to cooking for us and of course gardening – of both the flower and vegetable production kind. It was an extremely busy life for them and for us! And the days of Celebration were certainly looked forward to and relished by all.

One of the biggest celebrations of the year was St. Patrick’s Day or if you like, St. Partrick’s Day, which you say with a sort of breathy emphasis in the pronunciation, on the “ar”.

Music always played a huge role in any celebratory events at this school and St. Patrick’s Day was no exception. So those of us who played an instrument in the orchestra would have to practise assiduously for days prior to the arrival of the 17^th March - the big day. Songs like “O Danny Boy”, Take Me Home Kathleen”, “Galway Bay” and “When Irish Eyes Are smiling”. I am sure you know all these old favourites!

Eventually St. Patrick’s Day would arrive, and everyone would be smiling, happiness all around really. The nuns, students and members of the orchestra, would crowd into the Senior Study where the music stands, the conductor’s stand and chairs had been set up the night before by us - the orchestra members. And we gals playing would have decorated both ourselves and our instruments with emerald green ribbons – my violin and it’s bow would be dripping with flying green ribbons that would move in time with the notes and chords. It was a memorable time, with all the old favourites being played.

But what is really uppermost in my mind were the faces of the Irish nuns. They were obviously no longer in their own green homeland; and they would stand there rapt as we played to them. Many of them would have large tears just quietly rolling down their cheeks as they sang along to our renderings of their songs. So while I may have this beautiful but poignant memory of them, it is hard to imagine what sort memories this music would have evoked in them?

It was a beautifully planned day that traditionally we enjoyed each year; from the music to the Irish Soda Bread served for breakfast to everything Irish being taught for the day which finished with an Irish flavoured movie being shown later that night. I remember one year it was a John Wayne movie where the Irish Bride was forced to leave home without her treasures and her husband would not honour her request to get them from her father and brothers so she would have nothing to do with him, that is until he stomped across to her old home and got everything for her – seems odd in my re-telling and while I cannot remember the name of this old film, the message has sure stuck.

To this day St. Patrick’s Day is celebrated in the same time honoured way of previous generations by the nuns and girls - a ritual that will be played out time and again as the years run their course.

Copyright: a.a.gallagher. February 2009