Since today is a religious holiday for a lot of people, I thought I would relate this story that Patrick told me.
In the little town of Deya, there is a church up on top of the hill. Patrick played the Sunday music for a couple of years there.
He explained that the priest finally fired him when he realized that Patrick did not believe in the preaching, but just loved the music.
Completely unrelated, I remember that when I was 5 or 6, my mom gave me an old steel Easter egg, the kind with a crank that would play music. In my case, it played the song Peter Cottontail.
Thus ends my religious moment for the year.
I’m the son of Patrick of Meadows.
Lovely Memories! Thanks for sharing!