St. Patrick's Day

An article in today's NRO reminded me of a bit of family lore. Both sides of my family came from Ireland. One relative stands out--my mother's great-aunt, known simply as Auntie Mimi. Auntie Mimi came from the old country to America in her late teens, got a job, and paid for the passage of her siblings. She never married but helped her brother raise my grandmother after his wife died. Auntie Mimi never lost any of her senses and when she died at the age of 100 or 101 she was reputed to still have all of her own teeth, could read in the dark, and could hear the grass grow. As did most of the Irish of her era, she did not care much for the British. She came to live with my grandparents shortly after Pearl Harbor when she was well into her nineties. My grandmother wanted to keep her busy so she showed Auntie Mimi how to knit and knit she did, making scarves for soldiers. Every week or so, my grandmother would drop off the scarves, pick up another supply of yarn, switch the bag before getting home and then deliver the yarn to Auntie. Mom said that Auntie's fingers were always going and she must have knit hundreds of scarves over the course of the war. You are probably wondering why it was necessary to switch the bags before getting home. The bags were printed with: "British War Relief" and my grandmother never told Auntie Mimi that she was knitting for British soldiers.