A Wee Bit Irish

A few years ago I spit in a tube and sent it off to a DNA project on ancestry.com.  What a surprise to find out I am 29% Irish.  As they say in ancestry.com ads, "I had no idea". 

Really, 29% is a wee bit more than 'A Wee Bit Irish', and again to quote the 'Ad'..."I wanted to know more". 

The search began on my ancestry DNA Story with two family names.  Both from my father's maternal line.

It starts with my Great Grandmother Martha Jane Marley Carroll and her Mother, Mary Josephine Leatherwood Marley.  Neither of the names Carroll or Leatherwood to my ear had a ring of Irish.  As it turns out the Leatherwood line lead through at least five great grandmothers maiden names to reach an Irish descendent.  That's the 'Wee Bit Irish' DNA accounting.

Carroll, which is my father's middle name and the last name of his grandfather Stephen Bennett Carroll, lead to a 'Whole Lot More Irish'.

  Read HERE about my 6th Great Grandfather...born on Saint Patricks Day in Limerick, Ireland.

The Irish say...

May there always be work for your hands to do.

May your purse always hold a coin or two.

May the sun always shine on your windowpane.

May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain.

May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.

May the hand of a friend always be near you.

Wannabe Irish/Scottish? 

Just Share the Blessings!

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer.  One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog.  He dropped his tools and ran to the bog.  There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself.  Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.

 

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings.  an elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.  "I want to repay you," said the nobleman.  "You saved my son's life."

 

No, I can't accept payment for what I did, the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer.  At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.  "Is that your son?" the nobleman asked.  "Yes," the farmer replied proudly.  "I'll make you a deal.  Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy.  If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of."  And that he did.

 

Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.

 

Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia.  What saved his life this time?  Penicillin.  The name of the nobleman?  Lord Randolph Churchill...His son's name?  Sir Winston Churchill.

Pass it on...Happy Saint Patricks Day!