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Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Saint Patricks day, June homeschool style

So. This is how I am. Saint Patricks day morning and I find myself googling. Uh. A story. A project. Poetry. Something, something to go a little deeper into the meaning of this day. We are Irish. I mean a teeny tiny bit, but I like the kids to know a bit of the story.

In any case.

And here is what I came up with and I will share it here. For reference next year anyhow. HA.

First a story from my favorite site...(More of a detailed version here)

SAINT PATRICK




[Illustration]

SAINT PATRICK.
A FEW years before Alaric invaded Italy, a boy was born in Britain, probably on the western coast, who was to become the famous Saint Patrick. It was a wild, rude country. There were bears and wolves and wild boars. It was damp and cold; there was much fog and little sunshine. There were worse troubles than a disagreeable climate, for pirates from Ireland or Caledonia sometimes dashed up to the shore, made savage forays into the country, and sailed away with bands of captives to be sold. as slaves. This fate befell Patrick when a boy of about sixteen. For several years, he was a slave in Ireland and spent much of his time tending cattle. He had been brought up as a Christian, and as he watched his cattle on the hills, he prayed, some days a hundred times. At length there was a chance to escape, and he fled to his home. All his kindred welcomed him and begged him, now that he was rescued from such great dangers, never to go away.

Still his heart was with the Irish. He dreamt one night that a man held before him a letter which began, "The Voice of the Irish;" and as he read, he seemed to hear the people who dwelt by the western ocean calling, "Come and dwell with us," and he made up his mind to spend his life preaching to them.

[Illustration]

BELL OF ST. PATRICK.

When the time had come that he felt himself prepared, he returned to the island where he had been a captive. Other preachers went with him, and they traveled up and down the land, telling the people everywhere of the religion of Christ. They wore sandals, and a sort of long cloak which was no more than a large round piece of cloth with a hole in the middle to put the head through. The fore part of their heads was shaved, and the rest of their hair hung down upon their shoulders. When they went on long journeys, they rode in clumsy, two-wheeled wagons; but if the journeys were short, they traveled on foot, staff in hand, chanting psalms as they walked. They carried mass-books and copies of the Gospels and portable altars, and bells made by riveting two pieces of sheet iron together into the form of a rude bell and then dipping it into melted bronze.

[Illustration]

SHRINE OF ST. PATRICK'S BELL.

Generally the people were willing to listen to the strangers, but nevertheless, the lives of the missionaries were often in danger. The chiefs were always at warfare among themselves, and it was not safe to go from one district to another without an escort. In one place the people thought the long, narrow writing tablets of the preachers were straight swords, and that they had come to make trouble. It was some little time before they could be made to understand that the strangers were their friends.

[Illustration]

SAINT PATRICK BAPTIZING TWO IRISH MAIDENS.


There is a story that at one time the missionaries were in danger from Laoghaire, the chief king. At twilight King Laoghaire went out with his nobles to light the fire of the spring festival. On the Hill of Slane he saw another fire. It was forbidden on pain of death that anyone else should kindle a fire so long as the king's was burning, and Laoghaire sent men to learn who these daring strangers were and to bring them before him. It is thought that Patrick's poem, called The Deer's Cry, was written at this time. Part of it is as follows:— [ETA: this is actually known as "The Rune of St. Patrick" according to further googling...This poem is also found in the book "A Wrinkle in Time" and little man had memorized it already back then! So he was excited to hear it here again.]

At Tara to-day in this fateful hour,
I place all heaven with its power,
And the sun with its brightness,
And the snow with its whiteness,
And fire with all the strength it hath,
And lightning with its rapid wrath,
And the winds with their swiftness along their path,
And the sea with its deepness,
And the rocks with their steepness,
And the earth with its starkness:
All these I place,
By God's almighty help and grace,
Between myself and the Powers of Darkness.
The thought of the poem is that everything that God has made will help to guard the man who puts trust in His protection. The missionaries told the king that their fire was not to celebrate the coming of spring, but Easter and the resurrection of Christ. He listened closely, and finally gave them permission to preach to his people.
The grateful Irish loved Saint Patrick and were eager [90] to make him gifts, but he would never accept them. There is a pretty story that the little son of an Irishman whom he had baptized loved the good preacher so dearly that when the tired man had fallen asleep, the child would creep up softly and lay sweet-scented flowers upon his breast. The boy afterward became a bishop and succeeded his beloved master.
For many years, Saint Patrick preached and taught and built churches and schoolhouses and monasteries. These monasteries, and others that were founded not long afterward, became the most famous schools of the age. Thousands of pupils came to them from the neighboring countries; and from these seats of learning and piety earnest teachers and missionaries went forth, not only to Britain, but to every corner of Europe. This is the work that was begun by one fearless, faithful, unselfish man.




We then googled the symbol of Saint Patrick and drew it in our books, along with some rainbows and leprechauns for fun.

After some difficult negotiations I wrote down the above poem in little man's poetry book. He usually copies them himself for copy work. But...sometimes...yea...you know. There is a really great version read aloud here.

And then a taste of Irish music, this lovely version of "The deer's Cry" by Saint Patrick.


or this...


More beautiful poetry here. I seriously want to read more of this, so interesting. 


And here is my wish for your week! Happy Saint Patrick's day! 

May you always have
Walls for the winds,
A roof for the rain,
Tea beside the fire,
Laughter to cheer you,
Those you love near you,
And all your heart might desire!






And then some rainbow pom pom play time with numbers for "Math."



little man's latest prize possession. HAGRID'S HUT. its SOOOOO cute. and
officially PART MINE. ha!



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