To me, St. Patrick’s Day has always been one for revelry – especially when I was living in New Orleans. I loved it more than Mardi Gras, and we’d go down to watch the parades with friends who lived in the Irish Channel.

The people on floats would throw potatoes and cabbages and we’d go home and make a pot of Irish stew.  Yes, the marchers – most of whom were on foot – threw vegetables!  What shocked me most was that the marchers – all men – would  step out of line and kiss you.  Being a somewhat shy Mississippi girl, I was appalled and went and rinsed with listerine.

Within a few minutes I was right out there in the middle of the parade picking out the cutest ones to kiss!

Did you know St. Patrick wasn’t even born in Ireland?  He was brought there as a youth after being captured by slave traders.  After six years of tending sheep, he escaped to Scotland where he entered a monastery.

But he loved the Irish people and resolved to return and witness to them of God’s Son and His salvation.  He didn’t get back until he had reached the age of sixty, but when he did, he succeeded in bringing Christianity to Ireland without any bloodshed.  He transformed Ireland from a heathen to a Christian nation.

So when you’re wearing your green or attending Hal & Mal’s famous parade in Jackson, just remember the greater meaning of the day and let St. Patrick’s example remind you to dare to dream big, and don’t give up.