May Irish angels rest their wings right beside your door.
The little house above has a special significance to me and to this St. Patrick's Day. You see, when I was a wee one, and would accompany my parents for summer evening walks, we would routinely pass by this tiny structure.
Ever the curious child, I would always ask about who it was that lived in that little house. My parents, for whatever reason, told me that the little neighborhood leprechauns resided inside.
For years and years I believed this to be true. It seemed completely logical. It was the perfect size for minute little green men and their pots of gold.
Every time we would stroll past, I'd stare, crane my neck, and do everything in my power to catch a glimpse of these fun little people. I never did see one, but continued to believe my parents' claim.
Over the years, it has sported numerous paint schemes, had different flowers gracing the window boxes, and donned many sets of curtains. However, one thing hasn't changed. No matter how many times I jog past it or walk by with Charlie, or drive my car hastily by, I always think about those tiny magical men.
And, I'll admit it- I always look twice.
(*Note- It's actually a gardening shed. Too cute, huh? I sure wish I had one that was euqally spiffy.*)