St. Patrick’s Day! More Than Just Green Beer.

Just when you think you know what Saint Patrick's Day is all about, you learn something new. This is a long one, but read on to perhaps learn something you don’t know about this day.

I used to live in New York City, where I first learned that, in NYC at least, you MUST wear green on that day and NEVER orange (the color that represents loyalty to the British) whether you’re Irish or not. If you don't wear green, you get pinched.

Apparently that came from the belief that if you wear green, you're invisible to leprechauns. The whole offensive wearing of the orange is a bit odd because the Irish flag is made up of three equally sized stripes in green, white, and orange. In 1848, when it was first unfurled, orange stood for the Irish Protestants, green, the Irish Catholics, and the white was the hope for peace between them. Meanwhile, the official color of Ireland is actually azure blue! Go figure. Don’t miss that question if you’re ever on a trivia show.

Even though I don’t drink, every year I was railroaded into a Blarney Stone pub, where I sat with my green bottle of Perrier until the revelers, which was every person in NYC, got too rowdy from drinking their green beer. Many people who were not even Irish wore buttons that read, “Kiss me I’m Irish” and many people kissed them. That’s usually when I’d go back to my apartment, take off my green Mardi Gras beads, eat the (intentionally) green bagel I had gotten earlier in the afternoon, and check St. Patrick’s Day off the list.

But here are some more things I’ve learned about the holiday. I knew that it’s a cultural and religious celebration of St. Patrick, the Patron Saint of Ireland, but was surprised to learn that St. Patrick wasn’t even Irish. He was British, born to Roman parents in either Scotland or Wales. His name wasn't Patrick, either. His birth name was Maewyn Succat. At the age of 16, he was kidnapped by Irish raiders and taken as a slave to Gaelic Ireland where he was a shepherd for six years. That’s when he found God. He escaped to Britain and became a priest. That's when he changed his name to his Latin name, which was Patricius.

March 17th marks the date of Saint Patrick’s death which seems counterintuitive to be partying. However, it’s an official Christian Feast Day, celebrated with going to church for some Christians, and parades with marching bands, festivals and the wearing of the green and shamrocks for pretty much the rest of the world, as it’s celebrated in more countries than any other national festival.

I always thought shamrocks were lucky four-leaf clovers but I read that shamrocks always have three leaves. Clovers can have a fourth leaf. When St. Patrick was converting the pagan Irish to Christianity, he used the three-leaf shamrock to explain the HolyTrinity.

You may ask where the the drinking comes in. I did! I read that it used to be a dry holiday because the pubs were closed, but in the 1970’s when Ireland realized that the day is great for tourism, the green beer began to flow. Many important architectural structures joined in and around 2010, began to light the structures green on St. Patrick’s Day. Drinking became a major part of the celebration because, even though it takes place during Lent, the restrictions on eating and drinking alcohol on that day are lifted, which promoted the day as an opportunity to drink up.

All that led me to look up leprechauns and the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Leprechauns actually used to be red! They’re described as grouchy, untrusting, and solitary creatures who drink heavily and are mischievous. They leave behind footprints or shamrocks. There are no female leprechauns.

The pot of gold came from the idea that people needed to work to reap rewards. There was a saying that, “One was as likely to find a pot of gold as they were to find the end of the rainbow.” The Old Testament views the rainbow as a representation of God's promise to never again destroy the earth with a flood. So, the Irish myths and legends of rainbows and pots of gold merged with these Judeo-Christian beliefs, bringing us to where we are today.

This St. Patrick’s Day you’ll find me curled up in a chair, reading my book, “Angels in My Hair,” by Lorna Byrne. It’s a true story of this current-day Irish mystic who grew up being called “retarded,” even by her family. It turns out she has always been able to see and hear the angels and now is a sought-after healer.

Be safe and enjoy the day.

Stay enchanted.