That Perfect Elusive Leprechaun

In 1998, I spent a lot of time in Ireland, not only the locale of the most breathtaking cliffs I've ever seen, but also the homeland of the Leprechaun.  I even saw a sign near a beautiful place called Dingle while I was hiking, and the sign read "Leprechaun Crossing."  Here's the photo I took while I was there:

This year, my daughter planned in advance for months to make a Leprechaun trap in advance of St. Patrick's Day.  So, we had no choice but to make an amazing Leprechaun trap.  She made most of it, but I helped a little (mainly with wrapping the box, er, trap, which was loaded with soft stuff so the Leprechaun couldn't get hurt when he fell in).

She set it out among the clover and flowers in the backyard, sure the elusive Leprechaun would be lured in.  She was absolutely determined to catch him, though I guess she didn't really know what to expect.  But through her dedication and tenacity, she spent hours, all day long, checking her trap in the backyard to see if she'd caught him.  Each time she checked, the trap was empty.  But the joy she took in setting the trap, lovingly crafting it (I mean check out that rainbow), was worth all the effort.  Even if no one else actually appreciated it, I was in awe of how far she went to get what she wanted.  And with such perfect and lovely thought behind it. 

Guess where I'm headed next... you guessed it... the dictionary.  Webster's actually defines Leprechaun (who knew?).  And I think the definition is simple and pretty perfect:

: a mischievous elf of Irish folklore usually believed to reveal the hiding place of treasure if caught.

 

I can't blame her one iota for wanting so badly to catch the Leprechaun.  After all, vast treasures would await her, she was certain.  Alas, she didn't catch him this time... but, not to worry, he left some surprise treasure for her to find.  Not nearly as good as catching him, but treasure is always treasured, of course, in whatever form.  She'll catch him next time.