The true meaning of the popular phrase “the luck of the Irish” is debatable. Many believe it to be an ironic expression in reference to the sad and tragic history of the people of Ireland, while others simply cite the slogan with a genuine toast of good fortune. As an Irish-American, I say let’s go with the latter.

A few years back, I took an amazing road trip with my husband around the Emerald Island. While vacationing, I realized that I’d forgotten to bring the address of Nora McNally, my grandmother’s cousin, a distant kin that many of my stateside relatives had visited before. I didn’t stress over it at first, considering our time constraints, until we neared Nora’s small village, Kilcar (pop. 248), in County Donegal. It hit me…how could I pass up a glimpse into my heritage, my family? So, with the “luck of the Irish” and the kind determination of my Spanish husband, we popped into the first shop that we saw and asked the seamstress if ‘McNally’ rang a bell. Lucky us ─ it did! Minutes later, we were on a winding cliff overlooking Shalway Bay and, again, stopped to ask for directions. Standing in the middle of the picturesque path, two Gaelic-speaking men, dressed in yellow fisherman waders alongside their herd of sheep, pointed toward an adorable cottage. As I approached the house, I feared that my unannounced visit would be a rude intrusion, but as the door swung open, there stood a sweet woman that looked just like my grandmother. I quickly introduced myself using my maiden name (Callahan); she threw her arms around me and yelled, “Cousin! Come in!” After hours of chatter, tea, and cake, she invited us to lodge at her home, but we carried on with our journey. Obviously the highlight of my trip, the experience was truly unbelievable and one that I will forever cherish. Finding Cousin Nora was, in my opinion, pure luck of the Irish!

As St. Patrick’s Day nears, I wish you good luck…