Pádraig of Ireland

Beannachtaí Naomh Pádraig ort!
St. Patrick's blessings on you!

St. Patrick . . .
. . . was not Irish. He was a British Celt, first enslaved in Ireland as a teen, later a missionary toIreland.
. . . was not necessarily the first missionary to Ireland.
No one knows his birth or death date. 17 March is traditionally considered to be one of the two, but there is no documentation for this. The only documents about Patrick are his Confession and a letter he wrote to Coroticus.
There were never snakes---or other reptiles---in Ireland for Patrick to chase out. Patrick predates the Roman Catholic Church, and was considered a ``saint'' before the Roman church created its canon (list) of saints (and added him to it).

St. Patrick: the man and his life


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Attributed to St. Patrick
(Paraphrased by Cecil Frances Alexander)
I bind unto myself today the strong name of the trinity, by invocation of the same, the Three in One, the One in Three.
I bind this day to me forever by power of faith Christ's incarnation,his baptism in the Jordan river, his death on the cross for my salvation; his bursting from the spiced tomb, his riding up the heavenly way,his coming at the day of doom I bind unto myself today.
I bind unto myself today the power of God to hold and lead, his eye to watch, his might to stay, his ear to harken to my need, the wisdom of my God to teach, his hand to guide, his shield to ward, the Word of God to give me speech, his heavenly host to be my guard.
Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me;
Christ to comfort and restore me;
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.
I bind unto myself the name, the strong name of the Trinity, by invocation of the same, the Three in One, and One in Three, of whom all nature hath creation, eternal Father, Spirit, Word; praise to the God of my salvation, salvation is of Christ the Lord!

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The Confession of St. Patrick




You know you're Irish if . . .

You grew up believing you were lucky to have so many brothers and sisters sharing "your" bedroom.

Daily your mother intoned,"Jesus,Mary and Joseph grant me patience!"

The leprechauns came to your home in the wee hours of St. Patrick's Day morn and tinted the milk green.

Now and then Daddy "stopped" after work and Mommy slammed more than one cabinet door.

Your aunt and uncle were divorced for thirty years but it was kept a family secret.

You're on a first name basis with the souls in purgatory for your mom had you offer up all of life's trials for them.

You never throw away the rememberance cards picked up at wakes.

Potatoes, whether baked, fried, boiled, scalloped or mashed,are served at every supper.

Next to God and America there's Notre Dame.

You've spent six hours scrubbing and cleaning, polishing and cooking for Sunday's company when you hear Ma say, "Ah, t'was nothing! T'is happy we are to have your feet under our table."

Babies are prayed for, rejoiced over, cradled with love. Rosy cheeks, tiny fingers, God's greatest gift to mankind; babies are the reason 22 adults, 37 children, 15 pounds of ham, 1 priest and 16 degrees below zero gather together to celebrate a christening day.

The singing of songs with a friend close by has a way of bringing a tear to your eye. You call home to tell Ma you've met a great girl and she asks two questions. One, is she Irish? Two, is she Catholic? At least once a year the whole clan gathers together to celebrate the gift of family life.

You oversleep, all the hot water in the shower has been used up, your brother took your jacket with the car keys in the pocket, and your Mom says, "Sure'n you're lucky to be alive."

Daddy's lap was where you sat to hear the stories of a far away place called Ireland and sing the songs from "home."

You can stand at a bar carrying on a conversation, scout out the girls, toast your friend, join in the laughter, and sip a bit o' the brew, all in a wink of an eye.

The laughter and tears, the accomplishments and mistakes along life's journey are shared with friends.

When old age comes you may forget your name, or even where you are, but never the words of the Hail Mary.

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