byAmy Murphy always enjoyed visiting her Aunt Mary, especially at this time of year. Amy’s family had come to America from what they affectionately called the Old Country, and while they had adopted their new home with enthusiasm, a part of the Emerald Isle remained in their blood. And no time was this love more evident than around St. Patrick’s Day.
As Amy entered the kitchen, she was greeted by a smiling wisp of a woman standing by a huge stove that had prepared so many delicious meals for both family and friends. “Ah, Amy me girl,” Aunt Mary said with the accent that always seemed to grow more pronounced around this holiday, “the saints are smiling on your aunt today.”
Amy watched as her aunt practically danced over to the elaborately-decorated bread box that had been in the family as
