Child of Prague

What I miss about home is ... The Child of Prague statue that every, and I do mean every house had.

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Child of Prague #1

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They were always there; in a press (a cupboard if you are reading this anywhere else but Eire) on a press, a sideboard, a wardrobe, a hall, a living room, anywhere, but somewhere; the Child of Prague Statue was there.

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Child of Prague #2

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To be Irish was to have one standing proud and declaring your religion, your nationality even. You could spend the rest of your days photographing each and everyone of them.

And another thing; there was always a crack across the neck, the head having come off worse in a fall. Who knocked them? It wasn't me, honest...