Little St. Patrick Story
by Sylvia Lee | Mar 19, 2026 | Stories
One of my Crystal Lake Naples, Florida neighbors gave me some cash and asked me to pick up some things for our community food drive. I had this fun 2026 St. Patrick’s Day experience at Aldi’s consisting of getting and giving some help.
A gentleman, I’ll call him Mr. Helpful, probably not quite my age, was struggling to disconnect the grocery cart after he’d inserted his quarter. I helped him pull it away from the other chain of carts. Aww.. my good deed for the day.
I was hoping someone leaving the store might offer me their cart as I was not certain I had a quarter in my purse. Mr. Helpful offered to go to his truck, where he had plenty of quarters if I needed one. Fortunately, I had a quarter; but I asked Mr. Helpful if he would stay and help me yank my cart if I needed it. I did not need his help so we both entered Aldi’s to shop.
My goal was to find canned goods priced at $1.00 or slightly under since Florida imposes sales tax on food. One case of green beans and 1 ½ cases of tomato and chicken noodle soup later, I succeeded in spending my budgeted dollars and was ready to check out. Wouldn’t you know it, there was a can of corn lurking in the case of green beans requiring a trip back to the canned vegetable aisle for an exchange. Since there was no one in line after me so Miss patient cashier offered to hold my order while I hustled to return the can of corn and grab a can of green beans.
I was not looking forward to the trip back to my car to unload the canned goods and return the cart to its’ cart home. On the way to my car, I noticed an older gentleman heading to the carts. I greeted him and asked him if he’d like my cart. He nodded and I hoped he would walk the short distance to my car and lift the cases of canned goods into my car as a thanks for my cart. Apparently, I looked too capable while he waited for “his” cart.
When I pushed the cart towards him, he offered me a quarter and a business card. I told him the cart was my St. Patrick’s Day gift to him and asked him about the card. The card has a QR code I can scan for a daily blessing. I thanked him for his St. Patrick’s Day gift to me as a full-blooded Irish person. Then he asked me about my Irish heritage. I proceeded to tell him that my dad was Daniel Patrick Kenny. My mom was a Phelan. My dad’s mom was Collins. He agreed I was indeed Irish and proceeded to tell me he was O’Laughlin and married a Murphy.
Isn’t it interesting and fun who you might encounter in the Aldi’s parking lot as strangers and leave as semi friends on St. Patrick’s Day?!
Sounds like a good St. Patrick’s Day story, except it’s not long enough, (“to make a long story short” has never been heard in Ireland); hasn’t nearly enough tangents ( the various named characters must have backstories), and on its whole, entirely too believable (Mr. Cart Accepter should have been born in Montana). But otherwise, my Irish immigrant ancestors (The names look like the Dublin phone book: Burke, Murphy, Mooney, McGroden, McCue (McHugh back in Ireland), Shaunnessy, and Thompson) would approve. I come by an honest heritage to be sentimental, stubborn, quick tempered but I mellow easily. I’m a good story teller in the Irish tradition, to make a long story longer, and with such great respect for the truth in story-telling that we only use it as needed, and thus very rarely. We never let truth stand in the way of a good story, but other than in story telling, it is never permissible to lie. You don’t have to tell the truth, especially if it will ruin an otherwise good story. The Irish call it “Blarney.” Americans call it another word, also starting with “B,” of which there is no shortage in Ireland, or its descendants. K.B.
So Irishly, eloquently spoken. It takes one to know one.