Benrhultnt firing!) fiaper 
     
    
   
   
    
     St. Patrick's Day - in years past, a time to 
     
     salute the Irish, for any number of reasons. The 
     
     Irish are a good-hearted, happy people: a race 
     
     comprised in almost equal parts of street 
     
     'brawlers, drunkerds, priests, and geniuses.~ 
     
     An Irishman is a fiery, hot-tempered, stubborn 
     
     leprechaun with a heart of gold. 
     
     A strange country, Ireland -— a producer of 
     
     many controversial figures. A land where James Joyce and Samuel Beckett 
     
     learned to write, and then immediately left. A land where Bernadette 
     
     Devlin can be the strongest supporter of Catholicism, and end up an 
     
     unwed mother. The only place in the world where two factions 
     
     of the same basic religion -— Christianity - can in good 
     
     conscience enthusiastically kill each other off in the name of God. 
     
     An Irishman takes a bit of the "old sod" with him wherever he goes 
     
     - the twinkle in his eye, the spring in his gait, the particular magic 
     
     in his speech, and the way his voice rises when he talks of religion, 
     
     horse racing, and whiskey: an Irishman's only true passions. 
     
     »This year Ireland has her troubles. 'There are some that claim 
     
     ’ the dew drops on her greens are tears new. Men, 
     
     women, and children die on her streets every day, and the 
     
     situation is not improving. Ireland is a torn nation. 
     
     This year, if you see someone wearing green on St. Patrick's 
     
     Day, give him a big smile and a "Happy St. Patrick's Day!" 
     
     He could use it.