Near a green Irish hill where Saint Patrick himself is said to have tended sheep, there lives a friendly peddler. The potato famine comes, and people are too poor to buy the peddler's wares, but he welcomes all to his small cabin, especially children. One boy, Danny, wonders about mysterious words written in Latin around the peddler's old porridge pot, but neither Danny nor the peddler can read.

Then Saint Patrick appears in a dream, three nights in a row, and tells the peddler that he will hear a piece of good news if he will go to Dublin and stand on a bridge that crosses the River Liffey.

What the peddler learns there, and how it concerns his old porridge pot, is a tale for telling and is given its due in acrylic paintings that glow with the ever changing light of Ireland's skies and the charm of her people.

From the dust jacket