THE MIRACLES IN THE CAR PARK

There are, as they say, patron saints and patron saints. Some famous, some not so much; some outstanding in they’re chosen departments, monopolists of miraculous favours.

St. Anthony for things lost; St. Jude for hopeless cases; St. Blaise for the sore throat; St. Christopher for the traveller-we each of us have our own favourite.
But surely, if there is one who has been ignored, neglected and unknown (as far as I am aware) patron saint of car parks. His identify may be a secret, but his works are the essence of heavenly intervention.

Have you not noticed, those past few weeks, the recurrent miracles played out in the public car parks of town and city? Disabled drivers (for what else can they be) gently manoeuvre their vehicles into the only unoccupied spaces in town, those marked with the wheelchair logo. Minutes later, they can be seen heading off to the shops, agile and able-bodied and fleet of foot, just like you or me, their crutches and Zimmer frames thrown to one side (or somewhere), their wheelchairs no longer needed.

But where is their gratitude? Is there a leper among them to come back and say thanks? You will scan the Thanksgiving small ads all you like, but you will see no mention of thanks to that mild and good saint who has restored their crippled bodies to full and instant health.

The good saint is long used to such ingratitude, and all the better for it. If there is a complaint, it is his blatant discrimination in the matter of which he decides to bestow his great favours on. Invariably, the occupants of the miracle wheelchair spaces are those bearings the distinctive yellow number plates of Northern Ireland or British motorists.

But then it would be churlish to begrudge a visitor the miraculous cure to be found south of the Border. Think of the benefit which-properly marketed-the car-parking miracles would be to the tourist trade.


Respectfully yours,


…………………..
Tom Chambers
“The Billy Ranch”
Knocknageeha
Newport
Co. Mayo