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Patrick was born around 385 in Scotland, perhaps Banwen, Wales or Kilpatrick, Scotland. His birth name was Maewyn Succat. As a teenager, he was captured by pirates as a teenager and taken to Ireland as a slave to herd and tend sheep.
While in Ireland, Patrick dedicated himself to religion. Around the age of 20, Patrick escaped and returned to England, where he was reunited with his family. He was ordained a deacon and priest, taking the name Patrick, and later became a bishop.
Pope Celestine I sent Patrick to Ireland to preach the Gospel after the first Irish missionary bishop died. Patrick began his work in northern and western Ireland, where Christianity had never been preached. He gained the trust of the local people and converted thousands. Patrick and his disciples built churches throughout the country.
Much of the information regarding Patrick's life comes from The Confessio or Confession, which is a spiritual autobiography that contains an explanation of why Patrick spread Christianity throughout Ireland.
There are two legends that are often told about Patrick. A shamrock is associated with Patrick, as well as the Irish people. Patrick is said to have used the shamrock to explain the Trinity.
Another legend credits Patrick for driving the snakes from Ireland. While it is doubtful that Ireland was inhabited by snakes, Patrick's work is perhaps symbolic of driving the worship of pagan serpent symbols from the land.
Patrick died on March 17 at Saul, where he built the first church of Ireland.
In Ireland, St. Patrick's Day is a religious holiday that is celebrated by attending religious services, community and family gatherings and wearing green clothing and, of course, shamrocks.
The first St. Patrick's Day celebration in the United States was held in Boston on March 17, 1737.
Hail, Glorious St. Patrick
Hail, glorious St. Patrick, dear saint of our Isle,
On us thy poor children bestow a sweet smile;
And now thou art high in the mansions above,
On Erin's green valleys look down in thy love.
On Erin's green valleys, on Erin's green valleys,
On Erin's green valleys look down in thy love.
Thy people, now exiles on many a shore,
Shall love and revere thee till time be no more;
And the fire thou hast kindled shall ever burn bright,
Its warmth undiminished, undying its light.
On Erin's green valleys, on Erin's green valleys,
On Erin's green valleys look down in thy love.
Ever bless and defend the sweet land of our birth,
Where the shamrock still blooms as when thou went on earth,
And our hearts shall yet burn, wherever we roam,
For God and St. Patrick, and our native home.
On Erin's green valleys, on Erin's green valleys,
On Erin's green valleys look down in thy love.
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