Today I went outside with the dog and looked down and bam, right there, standing up taller than all the grass around it was a 4-leaf clover.
It may not be a real clover, but in this part of the world, this is what we call a clover.
It seemed especially appropriate to find this on St. Patrick’s Day. When I found it, I thought, “How lucky was that! Finding a four-leaf clover on St. Patrick’s Day!”
I’m not Irish. Well, maybe like a smidge a gizzillion generations back. So, I don’t have the luck of the Irish. I’ve never considered myself lucky — never won contests, never win money when I buy the scratch lottery tickets, never even do well on the Slots app on my iPhone.
After finding the 4-leaf clover today, I started to think about all the ways that I maybe am lucky: marriage, family, home, friends, health, job…
According to dictionary.com, “lucky” or “luck” means:
Ok, I guess there is some measure of chance related to the great things in my life. I didn’t have any control of being born in a developed nation instead of a third-world country. I didn’t have any control of being born in a country that has a higher level of health care than most other countries.
I think that the word that describes me better is blessed, especially the fourth definition of the word:
I am fortunate, happy and content. And maybe lucky, as well. It can’t hurt to be either.
Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona Daoibh!
You are a very lucky one! Is that you hand holding the clover?:) I am lucky you are my niece and I miss you!
Love and miss you. (And it is my hand.)