George Vesey Stewart is credited with bringing hundreds of Irish settlers to Katikati in the late 1800s. Photo/www.katikati.co.nz
George Vesey Stewart is credited with bringing hundreds of Irish settlers to Katikati in the late 1800s. Photo/www.katikati.co.nz
Top of the morning on this Saint Patrick's Day. Even if you're not among the 15-20 per cent of Kiwis of Irish descent, today at least provides an excuse to wear green and raise a pint. Maybe it's also cause to celebrate happenstance.
History before serendipity:
Some Irish-Kiwis got their start in Katikati, thanks to George Vesey Stewart (GVS), who brought the world's only planned Ulster settlement from County Tyrone to the bottom of the Coromandel, starting in 1875. Settlers lived among native Maori, from whom the land was bought, according to historians. GVS later organised another settlement at Te Puke. One historical record said he left Ireland to escape religious troubles and "greedy landlords".
The town's founder is the subject of one of Katikati's 44 outdoor murals. GVS holds a cane while sporting a bushy beard. He was elected first mayor of Tauranga and also served as proprietor of the Bay of Plenty Times.
Our national anthem, God Defend New Zealand was written by Monaghan-born Thomas Bracken. The Treaty of Waitangi was signed on behalf of the Crown by Waterford-born William Hobson. The captain of the original All Blacks, Dave Gallagher, came from County Donegal.
I believe good luck, or luck of the Irish, happens mostly to those who are not necessarily of Celtic heritage, but instead to those who work hard. Yet each year leads me to more firmly embrace the notion that Fortune's favourite flavour is random.
My paternal grandfather also emigrated from near Belfast. Instead of settling in blue-sky Bay of Plenty, his family set up shop in cloudy Cleveland, Ohio, leaving future generations to ponder: Why not Florida? Why not New Zealand?
Rowan Atkinson (aka Mr Bean) said the older you get, the more you realise how happenstance has helped chart your path through life. While we're busy planning and scheming, considering how A will lead to B, followed by C, Fate, in a delirious game of spin the bottle, sends us on to the highway at the wrong time or into a cafe at the right time. Zig when you could have zagged - you're in a car crash. Log on to the internet when you could've been watching reality TV - you're in love.
I believe good luck, or luck of the Irish, happens mostly to those who are not necessarily of Celtic heritage, but instead to those who work hard. Yet each year leads me to more firmly embrace the notion that Fortune's favourite flavour is random.
So it is with serendipity and St Patrick's Day. It's not about getting sozzled because it's March 17.
Spare cliches about drinking (though a pint of Guinness wouldn't be refused in our home), shamrocks, shillelaghs and shenanigans. St Paddy's for me embodies twists of fate that bring us love, money, heartache, loss.
My parents met on St Patrick's Day 50 years ago. Mum says Dad wore a button saying, "Kiss me I'm Irish". Though their union dissolved after two daughters and just over a quarter century, many of those years were joyful. My parents loved to entertain, to travel - most of all, they loved my sister and I enough to encourage us to achieve in our studies; to shuttle us to extracurricular activities; and to prod us to find part-time jobs as soon as we hit high school.
My Irish grandfather whose "two-up, two-down" stone home I visited near Ballymena in 2001 celebrated his 95th birthday last month. Like George Vesey Stewart, he also served as mayor, only my grandfather's tenure happened in Avon Lake, Ohio, in the 1960s. Good genes, sheer orneriness and luck has brought him within spitting distance of the century mark.
The author's Irish-born grandfather served as mayor of a Cleveland suburb in the 1960s. Photo/Cleveland State University library
Research about coincidence often mentions the fact our own flukes are infinitely more interesting and meaningful to us than to others. Yet happenstance matters. In an article in Psychology Today, Dr Bernard Beitman explains he studies coincidences because they are useful in ways most people never considered.
"Psychotherapists can use them to treat patients; they can help people become self-aware and introspective, leading to positive changes."
He says coincidences have proven useful in professional development, as people often "coincidentally" find exactly what they need when they need it (such as the discovery of penicillin - thanks to a scientist's runny nose accidentally dripping into a petri dish of bacteria).
A study at the University of New South Wales showed 74 per cent of participants had been influenced by a chance event in their career development. Coincidence can help us in our personal lives, too - to see the world as connected and beautiful.
Which brings me to my own St Paddy's Day jig with serendipity. On this day six years ago, I took a chance, meeting a bloke I'd chatted with online and over the phone. Pete and I lingered over coffee at Sidetrack Cafe at the Mount. I had been widowed. So had his mum, which led her to shepherd three children from Scotland to New Zealand when Pete was a wee lad.
I recall this coincidence often when we argue, thinking Fate had her reasons for bringing my husband and I together on St Patrick's Day. Serendipity.
Slainte - if Irish eyes don't smile upon you, I hope Fortune's eyes do.
• Dawn Picken is from the US and has lived in New Zealand for six years. She has two children and lives with her Scots-Kiwi husband, kids, and a dog named Ally in Papamoa.
