Thursday, March 17
Another all-green potluck on St. Patrick's Day at work. This time including a special guest or two. Barb and Angel brought broccoli salad to add to the mix. Angel was her typical self, including two nicely timed loud burps as Roberta was giving a little speech about a recent corporate meeting. Now where did she learn that, Barbara!?
And to shed some light on the real Patrick. He wasn't Irish, but born in N.W. England in the late 4th century and kidnapped by pirate slave traders at 16 to become a slave in Northern Ireland. He didn't shoo all the snakes out of the country. And he wasn't a Roman Catholic (which is one reason why he's never been canonized by the Church).
But 6 years later he escaped on a ship and eventually returned to his family. 20 years after this he dreamed the people of Ireland (whom he'd always thought about with compassion) were calling him to come back. He took this as a sign from God and set out for the challenge.
He won the hearts of people as he preached the true Gospel of Christ. The formerly pagan (Druid) nation turned to a believing nation as over 160,000 people converted to Christianity. He founded 300 churches. That's about all I know off the top of my head.