March 2002

Spotlight: Ireland

How I learned to pray again, in an Irish Pub
by Bridget Haggerty

Dun na nGall (Donegal)
by Ruth Mark

An Irish Welcome
by Sandy Summers

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March 2002—Spotlight: Ireland

How I learned to pray again, in an Irish pub
by Bridget Haggerty

It was a cool evening in May when we met.
You, just graduated from school, fresh
and full of energy. Us, still jet-lagged,
yet wide-eyed at the Irishness of it all.
We were in the Crow's Nest in Cork.
Several rounds into the evening, we
noticed your group. Four or five
girls celebrating their freedom from
books and nunsense.

Transported back to my last days
at the Ursuline in Wimbledon, I can
still recall the thrill of anticipation
—art school in the fall, a degree in
the future, and a career in fashion.
Strange how fate steps in to
re-arrange our dreams and make
of reality the life that was meant to be.
So, there I sat in a Cork pub, along side
the one who turned my head,
the career path long-forgotten.

Within minutes, we were all immersed
in conversation. A half dozen James
Creek Chardonnays past the lips and several
more to come, inevitably, a Catholic
girl's education led to a lively dialogue
on Mass every morning, visiting monks
imparting the facts of life (to this day
I don't wear patent-leather shoes),
nuns with their habits tucked up, playing
netball with more stamina and skill
than girls half their age, and a particular
teacher of mine - Miss Murphy, from
the north, who gave this daughter of
parents from the south, merry hell.
I still hate math.

Then, on to an embarrassment of riches
when I realized it had been so long since
I was inside a church, or prayed, that I'd
forgotten how to say the Hail Mary.
So that was how we spent our final
moments together. You, in all your drunk,
yet devout spirit, helping this poor sinner
return to her roots. And me, helplessly
giggling as I made woeful recitations.
I've thought of you from time to time.
Wondering where your paths have taken
you, and if you're pointed in the right
direction. Often, I pray that you are.
In an Irish pub, you taught me that.
And wherever you may be, blessed
art thou amongst the women I know.
And blessed is the fruit of that sweet
meeting in Cork.

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