‘Four Leaf Clover’ – My St. Patrick’s Day Memory. What’s Yours?

As a toddler, I played outside getting dirty in the sandbox, in the grasses, in the mud puddles, rain puddles, anywhere the great outdoors offered opportunity, I jumped.

As a young child, I slowed my pace as my disease progressed. And by the age of nine, I stayed inside.

In the spring, my biochemistry mirrored the unpredictable weather patterns.

March always played unfair.

My bones ached.

My heart ached too.

The neighborhood kids jived on, playing, running, exploring, sledding, kick-the-can, red light-green light, all games my stiff joints halted from any ‘good old days of playing.’

I spent time watching TV, Crayons and markers in ‘Lassie’ coloring books, drawing, painting, arts and crafts but every so often, boredom set in.

I wanted to be outside, playing like normal kids. I wanted to be normal.

Instead I merely got bored.

“Mom, I’m bored,” I pouted.

“Did you do your homework?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Did you do your chores?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Well, could you do me a big favor and go outside and find me a four-leaf clover because I really want to have extra luck. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes! I’ll find one for you, Mommy,” I replied with pride, duty and purpose.

I scanned our backyard, searching for luck, for Mommy, for a reason.

I think this may be one! One, two, three – oh, it’s not.

I leaned closer to earth, her perfumed sweetness a reminder of days gone by, either a pleasant reminder or a not so pleasant reminder. Depended on the weather.

Oh, wait, I think I found one! One, two, three, is that a – one, two, three, maybe –

I waddled inside.

“Mommy is this a four-leaf clover?” I placed the potential charm into her reliable flat palm.

“Let’s see; one, two, three. Oops, I’m sorry, honeymoo, this is not a four-leaf clover. But you can keep looking for one if you want to,” she prodded without demand.

Boredom never felt too bad in spring when outside searching for Mommy’s extra lucky four-leaf clover.


I never did find her a four-leaf clover.

Instead I unearthed memories of green hearted love.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Living Life to the Best of Your Possibility

‘One can judge a nation by the way it treats its most vulnerable’ ~ Aristotle

Victoria Kaloss

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