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!