By Leon O’Chruadhlaoich
(Leo M. Crowley)
In a far-off land, the villagers were lazy, uncouth, and irresponsible as all their needs had been fulfilled by a very generous king. Their vineyards were overcome with weeds, their flower gardens overcome with insects, their fruit trees and grapevines barren, and their fields lying fallow. Their nutrition was poor, there were no widespread decorations or celebrations on holidays, and, as usual, there was seasonal snow and ice, rain and wind, sun and drought, and falling fruit and leaves as far as the inhabitants could feel, hear or see. They searched far and wide for help and assistance and were fortunate enough to discover a diminutive, apparently homeless man lying under a green, white and orange flag in the city square one St Patrick’’s Day morning, March 17th. He was wearing a cocked hat, a leather apron, shiny black shoes, and had a cobbler’s hammer laying by his side. He stated that he was an expert horticulturist from a faraway Emerald Kingdom, and when asked his name, he answered “my name is Patrick but they call me Paddy.” In response to their plea for help he set to, and in no time the grass was cut in the fields, the foliage was removed from the vineyard, the trees were pruned and the flower gardens were weeded, exposing the fertile soil to the (anticipated) sunny spring sun. However, when hen the villagers saw this initial (what they perceived to be a rape and pillage of their lands) they dragged the poor unfortunate horticulturist to the Royal Palace and placed him before the King and demanded he be put to the sword. “There are no leaves upon the trees, there are no vines upon the vineyards, and the gardens are naked and barren.” They accused the horticulturist of being at the forefront of this travesty. The king had an ominous portent about the situation yet agreed that the delightful horticulturist seemed to have done a severe job of decimating the land, the vineyards, and the flower gardens, but he had enough to forgo a death sentence but benevolent enough to at least impose a life sentence upon the poor horticulturist and deliver him to the deepest and most secure dungeon and then throw away the key. The King ordered a daily check on the prisoner by his armed guards. Despite the forgiving of a death sentence, the King now felt very uneasy about the whole situation.
Winter turned to Spring, and Spring turned into Summer, and Summer into Autumn. Months turned to months and years turned to years. Over time, he villagers would stray into the fields, through the vineyards and walk the flower gardens, and were soon amazed at the succulence of the vines, the tasty fruit upon the trees, the beautiful display of flowers, and the lush green grass across the meadows. They rejoiced, and agreed to inform the king upon their new discoveries, and, feeling a wave of community guilt, the villagers decided to appeal the life sentence for the horticulturist. So, a deputation of villagers arrived at the king’s palace. When they entered the throne room, the king was sitting speechless on the throne, having lost his ability to speak. On inquiring to the chief jailer about the horticulturist, they discovered the deep and secure dungeon was empty and the multiple locks were all in the right place, and fully secured. The whereabouts of the horticulturist was unknown.
Now here is the very strange beginning. On the first night of his imprisonment, the homeless horticulturist individual noticed that at the bottom of the dungeon was a tiny hole through which he, the prisoner, could see and hear water. He decided that he would have to change back to his former (Leo the Leprechaun) self otherwise he would never get through the hole. He had fortuitously saved some grapes from the vineyard from between the weeds and stinging nettles and had gathered several green pea pods from the vegetable patch, which he secretly contained within his pocket. He then opened a pea pod and then sprinkled his supply of magic dust upon one of the succulent grapes, and then ate it. No sooner had the grape been swallowed when he reappeared into his true form, as Leo the Leprechaun. Now dressed in his red and green tunic and green, cocked hat, shiny black shoes and carrying his cobbler’s hammer, he splashed down into the stream using the empty pea pod as a boat. What a relief it was to breathe sweet fresh air and drink the cool, clear water from the stream! Luckily some branches brushed the water, and he was able to grab one and heave himself up on the riverbank. He then found himself among the very gardens, vineyards, and fields that needed his expert cultivation, but he knew from his first night of incarceration, they would need constant care throughout the upcoming seasons. So then he ran back along the riverbank, under the little wooden bridge and there he found the small hole from which he had escaped. It was hard work but at last he would manage to get back into the dungeon. He removed the pea pods and the grapes from his pocket, chose another succulent grape and again sprinkled it with his magic dust, and changed back into his former self, Paddy the horticulturist, and covertly hid the remainder of his magic dust within his cell. Being magically changed back to his former nondescript self, the daily visit by the King’s armed guards passed by without alarm or incident.
As time went by, on his initial nightly trips to the village, he saw how sad, hungry, and disillusioned the villagers were. So, he hid among the flowers quite easily, with his red and green clothes being unseen among the colorful petals of the flowers. Every night, after the villagers had gone to bed, he would tend the meadows, vineyards, and flower beds. This happened regularly throughout the seasons, except in the wintertime, when Leo would lay his leather apron on the ground, and kneel on it, while tending to the most fragile of the winter pansies and violas. In addition, he planted some magic shamrocks in the palace gardens which only bloomed annually on every St Patrick’s Day on March 17th. When the villagers got used to this rare, but annual recurrence, they noticed that the shamrocks gave off a gorgeous bouquet of real Irish whiskey, the smell of roasting chestnuts, bacon and cabbage, and the aroma of hot Irish stew, which, borne on the harsh March winds, passed all over the villages throughout the kingdom. And every St Patrick’s Day, out of nowhere, a whole delegation of uniformed Irish guards in full regalia would appear in the town squares playing romantic Irish melodies on their military bagpipes. To everyone's amazement, green, white and orange flags mysteriously appeared throughout the Kingdom, flapping and flying madly in the accompanying March winds and showers in great abundance. They also noticed a most pleasing and delightful intoxication of their character and senses, and instead of being lazy, uncouth, and irresponsible, they became delightfully sociable and took to revelry, dancing, and storytelling of a most delightful nature. And ancient Celtic musicians, armed with bodhrans, tin whistles, fiddles and accordions would also appear and spent the whole time playing Irish jigs and reels (without the villagers knowing what they were or where they came from). The King in the palace suddenly noticed that his speech returned once a year every March 17th, so he was able to conduct his palatial affairs without hindrance, and on an annual basis. It also reminded him not to make hasty judgments without taking the time to review the many requests he receives, without making hasty decisions based on the frenetic demands of an angry populace.
When planting in the springtime, Leo would wear his leather apron and shoes to ward off the thorny branches of the vegetation which had not yet come to full fruition; in the summertime, Leo would shelter his head under his green cocked hat, which was the same color as the grass-green meadows, while attending to the tender vineyards; in the autumn, his red-colored beard blended beautifully with the russet-colored leaves on the surrounding flower gardens; and in winter, having just finished polishing the newly dropping snow off his protective little black shoes, he was able to catch a glimpse of his bright red, rosy-colored cheeks reflecting off the surface of the silver buckles of his shoes, aided by the light of a silvery moon which seemed to follow him about like a magical balloon.
It turned out that the villagers so looked forward every year to March 17th, that they somehow associated this strange and unknown once-a-year occurrence with the fact that the gardens, vineyards and fields were so luxurious throughout the year, that they changed their ways and now assumed the daily upkeep themselves, as they were afraid if they didn’t, the intoxicating experience of March 17th would go away, so now they were all conscious of the part everyone had to play in the pastoral upkeep of the Kingdom. With his work completed, Leo the leprechaun hitched a ride on the next rainbow, and traveled all the way back to the Emerald Kingdom without the King, his jailers and the villagers any the wiser.
No one in the village knew what happened to the diminutive, homeless horticulturist, and had no idea who has initially looked after their village gardens, vineyards, and fields, because leprechauns were never ever seen, as they were reputed to be invisible to normal human beings. Leo
chuckled to himself every time he saw the looks of astonishment on their faces throughout the seasons, and especially on the 17th of March. It was a sight to see.
