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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Contest · #941858
Written for Laurencia's Best Of Three Contest

THE BLARNEY STONE


The young farmer paused from his planting, and wiped his brow with his handkerchief, thinking perhaps that the work was hard and surely didn't pay very much. At suppertime, he watched his children looking eagerly for more food. There was no more to give them. Mary had prepared the best that they had, a leg of mutton and potatoes, with a large glass of milk from the one cow they owned.

"Mary" he said, as she cleared the table of its meager leftovers, "I have to go find work. The farming is not enough to support us, and no child of mine will keep on leaving the table hungry." She looked deep into his eyes, so dark and troubled. It was true that the potato famine had struck them hard. It was true that the last of the mutton had been cooked and the scraps saved for another meal. The poor old cow was drying up and there soon would be no more milk.

"I heard about some work in town last week. They are looking for men to haul stone to repair the castle. They say they are paying pretty well" Patrick said slowly. He loved farming, and it would be hard to leave the family behind while he went out to work. Yet he must do something, he thought, and this was about the only thing he could do.

Mary nodded and knew that Patrick would do anything he could to keep the family together. She had depended on her parents to supply meat for the table. Her parents were getting old, but it was as hard for them as for her. She went upstairs to tuck the children into bed and sing them a lullaby. Patrick listened to the lilting beauty of her voice, so soft and sweet. He made up his mind to go to town in the morning to find whatever work was available.

When Mary came downstairs, she found Patrick sitting in his old stuffed chair, sound asleep. He was tired out from the day's labor, and she felt so sorry for him. She went to her rocker and picked up her knitting. It would be colder soon, and she might be able to sell one or two sweaters in the shops. Her mother had given her several skeins of yarn, and she was putting them to good use. The children each had a new sweater, and the bright green brought out the color of their eyes.

Patrick stirred, and muttered in his sleep. Mary nudged him and prodded him to get up and go to bed. "Ah, Mary" he said, "I could sleep for a week if only there was time -" and he got up slowly and went into the bedroom. Mary turned off the light and followed, glad the day was over and that the down comforter would warm her nicely. She could hear Patrick snoring on her way in, and she smiled. Everything would work out fine, she thought, for Patrick was a man who would fight for them. They would survive these hard times.

Morning came all too soon. Patrick got up and did the chores, then came inside for breakfast. Mary had prepared cornbread and scrambled eggs. The children were eating already. Patrick washed up and came to the table, where Mary had set a place for him. She piled his plate high and gave him a kiss. The children giggled, and got a stern look followed by a smile from their father.

Soon the children were off to school. They had to walk less than a mile, and for that Mary was grateful. She could watch them for most of the way. Patrick changed clothes and prepared to go to town. Mary wished him luck as he kissed her cheek. "Don't worry, Mary" he said, "I have a feeling that our luck is changing for the better!"

After he left, Mary cleared the table and started doing the dishes. As she worked, she sang the lullaby - smiling that her children, now big first graders, still liked to have her sing them to sleep.

Patrick arrived in town and went to the office of the Mayor who was hiring men for the stone work. "A fine morning!" he heard the man grumble. "I don't know how we'll get this done without.." he stopped when he saw Patrick. "Now there is a fine strong young man" he thought, and he shook Patrick's outstretched hand. "When can you start?" he asked. "Right now!" Patrick smiled, "I can start right now! Just tell me where you want me!"

For the rest of the day, Patrick lifted stones into a wheeled cart and pushed them over to the men near the castle wall. His back was about to break, and he sure could use a cup of water. Still he kept on lifting stone, and soon had a pile ahead of the workers. "Slow down a bit, lad" one said. "Have a drink with us!" He poured a cold cup of water and handed it to a grateful Patrick.

"Ye see the top of that wall, Lad?" the man said." We'll be needing a special stone for that. It has to be about square, and smooth as it can be." Patrick nodded, and thought to himself that it would be a miracle to find one that was both square and smooth. He headed back to the rock pile.

Another hour and it would be time to stop for the day. Patrick stopped for a minute and looked around. He still hadn't found that perfect stone. It was with surprise that he saw a flash of green at the far end of the pile. He blinked and whatever it was had disappeared. He walked around the pile and saw his miracle! A perfect square stone, and polished like it had been shined by angels! He tried to lift it and found it very heavy. He went back and brought the cart around. It would make him proud to present the crew with this fine stone. He lifted and tugged, but the stone refused to budge. He drew out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. "For Mary!" he said, and he lifted the stone with ease! "Now that is an Irish blessing if I ever saw one!" and he bent down and kissed the stone! Flashes of green and gold danced before his eyes. A miracle indeed, and he hurried with the stone to the crew, who were chuckling when they saw him kiss the stone.

Their eyes widened when they saw the stone and listened to Patrick as he spoke, eloquently, about his vision and his miracle. "Ah, he's full of the blarney, now!" one of the men said. The Mayor was standing nearby and overheard the man. "What a great idea! We shall call this the 'BLARNEY STONE' and people will come from all over the world to lean down and kiss it to get the gift of gab!"

He handed Patrick his pay for the days work, with a large bonus for finding the stone. Patrick stopped at a shop on the way home and bought food for the table. Mary would be pleased and surprised, he thought. When he tried to pay for the food, the shopkeeper shook his head. "I've never seen a man work so hard in a day's time! You take this, with my blessing!" Patrick thanked him with words that seemed to roll off his tongue with ease.

At home, he found Mary working in the garden. "Oh, darling Mary!" he said, "There has been a miracle this day. Come and prepare our supper and let us give thanks!" Mary's eyes took in the bag of food and she hurried inside. The family would eat well and there was still more for tomorrow!

During supper, and after, Patrick could not stop talking about the events of the day. He told Mary about the Mayors' plan to name the Blarney Stone and how people would come from all over the world to kiss it, as he himself had done! Mary could not believe her ears, as she listened to her husband speaking. They had been married five years and he never chatted on so. Perhaps the stone was magic, a miracle or a sign of better days.

Many years ago that was, and to this day people from all over the world come to see and kiss the Blarney Stone. It is said that each one comes away with the 'gift of gab', even after having had to climb to the top of the castle to reach it. It is forgotten by some during the year, but each one remembers the Stone on March 17th, St. Patrick's Day. It is one of Ireland's great treasures.

Countrymom
2/21/05













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