Dear St Patrick – I don’t mean to offend you or anything, but I can never quite get it into my head that your feast day is an actual holyday of obligation. To be honest with you, the only thing people are going to feel obliged to do this Thursday is drink until they can no longer remember why it is they are wearing a ridiculous green hat that flashes intermittently, lighting up the dingy street that they stagger along.
Don’t think that you’re a failure though. Unfortunately, this country isn’t in the best condition and everyone is, quite frankly, a tad depressed. You should be extremely proud that your legacy gives us a semi-legitimate excuse to forget all our troubles and worries – that is until the following morning when the dry mouth, pounding headache and tender stomach only exacerbate problems. You needn’t worry about that though. You did enough for us by getting rid of the snakes.
Speaking of snakes, I’m pretty sure a lot of people would appreciate it if you came back for a week or two and did some more banishing of the odd snakey character that we have hanging around the Kildare Street area. Maybe you could even return full-time and give us a hand sorting out this business with the IMF and the ECB. I hear we’re looking for a new president too so, if the Áras takes your fancy, I’m sure you wouldn’t have to go through the whole rigmarole of standing for election. I mean, there’s got to be one or two perks to the whole patronage thing.
Come to think of it, you’d probably be quite shocked if you did manage to rise from the dead and pay us a visit – not that the rising from the dead thing would be majorly surprising seeing as you are a saint and that must mean you’re in the good books with God. Actually, the more I go on, the better being a saint sounds. I might give it a go if employment prospects still look bleak once I finish college. Anyway, if you do come back, be prepared to see a land very different to the one you remember. I won’t spoil the surprise though, but just wait until you see the airport (and the ad for it is even better). – Yours, etc, Niamh