On a calm night in the small rural town of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, disaster struck. In a small building at the edge of town, someone crept quietly through a window, making sure to not raise any alarms. They spotted what they wanted on a wall near them, and just as quickly as they came in, they left, wreaking havoc in their wake. Or so I thought.

When I was in preschool, my teachers staged a leprechaun rearranging our entire classroom overnight. Apparently, this little monster’s plan was to sneak into a classroom, rearrange the entire room, make a portrait of itself out of construction paper, tape it to the classroom wall, and leave. When I came into school the next morning, I fell for the story hook, line, and sinker.

I remember sitting on the colorful mat with my classmates, all of us completely engrossed as our teachers told us that this was the point of St. Patrick’s Day: leprechauns come out of hiding, fully dressed in green outfits paired with top hats, causing mischief wherever they go. For a minute, I wondered why they hadn’t stolen the classroom turtle since it would’ve been the same color as the leprechaun. Though I didn’t know it then, that made about as much sense as a tiny creature breaking into a school simply to change the placement of the desks in a classroom. I decided that leprechaun was my friend; he pushed back class and left every single one of us a chocolate gold coin, something I was so positive he had carried around with him, even though my teachers told us that he was less than a foot tall.

For a short while after that, I was convinced that the meaning of St. Patrick’s Day was only because of leprechauns: rainbows were special on that day, chocolate was abundant, and classrooms were wrecked everywhere. Now, that notion makes no sense, but neither does my current idea of St. Patrick’s Day. St. Patrick’s Day reminds me of partying and green everything, but not much else. Honestly, it mostly reminds me that my mom’s birthday is the following day. It’s basically just a helpful reminder, along with the slight amusement of wondering if I could convince anyone that I’m Irish, despite my brown skin. So, while preschool essentially taught me nothing about what St. Patrick’s Day is actually about, I can stand here and confidently tell you that if something in your room moved, it definitely wasn’t because a leprechaun paid a little visit.