St Paddy’s Snake Bite Remedy by Eden Unger Bowditch

As today we think everything should be green as the grass is green. Why? And for whom? For none other than St Patrick. Many green-wearing fans think of him as the little buckle-shoed ginger leprechaun with pointy ears and a twinkle in his eye. Sorry folks. That’s not the story.

When we were young, my husband and I were in a band that toured and made albums and did it all with a baby in tow (he took two years off grad school!) One of our songs was inspired by a comment by a friend in the music business. He said, ‘This song reminds me of St Paddy’s Snake Bite Remedy’ and, thus, it was dubbed.

What feels like a hundred years later, I look back and wonder why I never investigated the story. Me? A lover of stories? A teller of stories? And, so, I shall do so today.

St Paddy was not Irish and, in fact, wasn’t even Christian. He never planned to go to Ireland. He was a wealthy young boy in Britain and was kidnapped. St Paddy’s move from the lap of luxury to tending sheep on a rainy Irish hillside was not by choice. But, as he sat shivering while tending his flock, he had a conversion. He heard a voice that told him what must happen. He returned to Britain, became a priest, then went back to Ireland where he lived out his days trying to bring Christianity to the natives. But what about snakes?

Well, the story goes that St. Paddy snake bite remedy was to banish snakes from the island. And, as it stands, there are no snakes in Ireland. Were there ever snakes in Ireland, you ask? Why do you want to trample upon a fabulous tale that has survived the centuries?

We are spinners of stories ourselves, are we not? And we all love a good yarn. Let’s enjoy the magic brought to us on this day. We celebrate in big or small ways- a green scarf or green socks, or bright green-died hair, pick your pleasure- let’s send a cheer to Ireland as we remember the passing of Irish patron and give a nod to St. Paddy’s snake bite remedy.

MYTHS, FABLES, and STORIES WE KNOW by Eden Unger Bowditch

There are myths or fables that we know without even knowing how we know them. Lots of Aesop’s Fables are like that (sour grapes, singing donkeys, mama bullfrogs) as stories from Greek mythology (Achilles, Odysseus, Hercules/Heracles) and the bible (Jonah, Noah). We have films coming out that regularly revive old stories and myths (Snow White, Jack the Giant Slayer, et al) and let us not forget that Sophocles, let alone Shakespeare, took those old stories and ran with them. A good myth never dies.

Living in Egypt, I have discovered that many (if not most) of the stories I have heard from here are very close to many of the myths we know in the West. Some of the ancient stories, like the stories of Isis and Osiris and the Egyptian gods, have a familiarity all their own. But the later stories, from around this region, areclose to other stories we have heard, as well.  Here are some Middle Eastern stories that might seem familiar:

The Boatman and The Scholar

As the boatman rowed the scholar across the river, the scholar chided the boatman for his lack of learning. “Your life is nothing if you have not learned your letters,” he said. Suddenly, the boat was tossed and broken and began to sink. “I am drowning!” cried the scholar. “Your life is nothing if you have not learned to swim,” said the boatman.

The Smuggler and The Official

There was news that a smuggler was bringing in stolen goods. The official stopped a man who had a donkey carrying large bags of straw. Searching the straw, the official found nothing. Every day, the man came with a donkey carrying great bags of straw Every day the official checked. For months, this went on and never could the official find anything of value in the straw. Many years later, the retired official and the man met at a café. They sat together and shared tea. “I tell you, my friend, I know you were the smuggler. But I could never figure out what it was or how you did it. Please tell me, what were you smuggling?” The man smiled, “Donkeys.”

And there are stories of the Mulla (or Mula), the wise fool, like the story of the man who lamented that all he owned filled only a small sack. The Mulla snatched the sack and ran. The man began to cry and walked all the more sadly down the road. The Mula then left the sack in the man’s path. When the man came to the sack he rejoiced! The Mula smiled because he had made the man happy.

When we read these we say, Oh, yeah, I think I’ve heard that, because likely, you have. Remember the story of the blind men and the elephant? Each one touching a part of the elephant and saying “I know the elephant, it is very like a tree,” or “It is very like a rope,” depending on what each an held. This story is from India. There are fables from China, Ireland, Japan, France… and somehow the stories, and the lessons they teach, are familiar.

 

Does anyone else have tales from their childhood?