1943 … Paddy, the Welshman, reads the tea leaves

                            

In 1943 I was 10 years old, the youngest of 5 girls and living in Wellesley Hills, Massachusetts. World War II was in full swing and my family was doing it's part by entertaining some of the English sailors who were stationed at the Fargo Naval Base in Boston. They would come out by train on the weekends and it was not unusual for us to have 4 or 5 of them at one visit. We loved it ... and them. A special favorite was Paddy, the Welshman.

It was also the time of “brown outs” and no lights were allowed to show at night. Luckily our old Victorian home had an inner hallway with steps to the 2^nd floor. It was completely enclosed so we'd congregate there nightly to tell tall tales and just generally chill out. It was a special treat when Paddy was among us. He was a great story teller and he loved to practice the art of telling our fortunes using the age-old method of reading tea leaves.

We would choose our favorite spot on the staircase, fill our teacups to the brim (making sure that we got a good share of the leaves) and sit back in anticipation. Then, one by one, as we finished our tea, we'd hand the cup to Paddy. He'd make a great show of turning the cup upside down and twirling it around. When he finally looked at the tea leaves he would express astonishment and wonder at what he saw there. More often than not it would include a handsome man for the gals and gobs of money for the men.

There was a war raging and those boys knew they would be back in the thick of it soon … but for a short time that was all forgotten as Paddy, with a bit of blarney and a cupful of tea leaves transported us all to a magical place filled to the brim with love.

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