Being Irish isn’t something you do, it’s something you are.

To be Irish means that your heart swells like a sheet on a clothesline at the sound of your ancestral brogue, that the thought of your dad and sainted mother makes you weep a wee bit even now, that the devil himself, try as he does, will never dim your devotion to the Trinity.

If you’re truly Irish, you’re possessed of a joy of the spirits and a depth of soul. You carry a smile for a stranger and coins aplenty for the poor. Aye, there’s a feistiness about you as well, but only in protecting all that you hold dear; family, friends, faith and land, your heritage.

For if you can see a masterpiece in a sunset and a promise of harvest in a clump of dirt, if you claim friends who’ll buoy you up as well as cheer you when you sail, if you can feel the loving grip of God whatever your lot in life, then saints be praised….YOU’RE IRISH.

- Joe Keefe – Author of Being Irish… …Contemplations on the Nature and Meaning of the Irish Race.”