Give me a few friends
who will love me for what I am,
and keep ever burning
before my vagrant steps
the kindly light of hope…
And though I come not within sight
of the castle of my dreams,
teach me to be thankful for life,
and for time’s olden memories
that are good and sweet.
And may the evening’s twilight
find me gentle still.
Like so many Americans, I have a fair amount of Irish blood flowing through my veins, and on St. Patrick’s day it always does a jig. My husband and I have been to Ireland twice as I did research for Whiskey Island and The Parting Glass, and the entire country had a familiar feel, as if everyone I met was a distant relatives and the land was home. What marvelous story tellers we met. I like to think that’s where at least some of my love of writing came from.
Whether you are Irish or not, I wish you the blessings of this prayer.