It was known as the party piece, a “bit of an auld song” or spoken word. Would we have called it an Irish tradition? Probably not. As students in Galway, sharing songs, stories, and poems was just something we did on Saturday nights.

But the tradition goes back centuries, notes Irish historian P.W. Joyce. Ancient Irish sagas depict hospitality to travelers as a social virtue, and guests reciprocated with music or spoken word. “Like the Homeric Greeks, the Irish were excessively fond of hearing tales and poetry recited . . . Every intelligent person was expected to know a reasonable number.”

Thus it continued, into my “ancient” college days. Go on now, give us your party piece, friends would say as we lingered after one-burner suppers served on coffee tables. “Mountains of Mourne” was a favorite.

A Poem

Reciting a poem went over well, too. Back then, practically everyone I knew, student or not, had a few verses filed away in the old memory bank. Had I the heavens embroidered cloths . . .

It wasn’t like you hunkered down at a desk to memorize them, mind. You’d simply hear something and if it touched a chord, you’d hold onto it, the way a magpie works shiny foil into its bower.

A Story

Some party pieces were stories. The best were scraps of real experience that had been well embellished. Lace-edged in mystery. Beribboned with bright hyperbole. The beadwork of everyday dialogue polished into priceless gems with every retelling.

Oh, you could cut yourself on that wit, someone would say. It’s the way he tells ’em, someone would chime in.

A Moment

Your moment would not go viral. The technology that transformed selves into selfies was still decades away. We didn’t take photos or make recordings.

Yet we always knew where the gatherings were. The “sociable” network functioned by way of knocks at the door, the tea kettle kept at the ready for impromptu visits and invitations.

A Welcome

Meanwhile, back at the party, a newcomer from the States might hesitate on being asked to sing.

Sure, it doesn’t matter if you’ve a voice like an old crow, someone would tell her. We’ll all join in, another might add encouragingly.

Oh, I see: Sharing a party piece wasn’t about competing to see who was the most talented. It was about willingness to participate, to add some ingredient of your own to the stone soup of the evening.

A Joy

So when someone began to sing “My Lagan Love” or “Bye, Bye, Blackbird,” it didn’t matter a whit if there was more rasp than lilt. The melody came through clearly via memories the singer stirred in us.

The greater joy was in being there together, none of us ready yet to call it a night.

Your Presence Is Requested

Today, even amid the multi-modal distractions that are as ubiquitous in Ireland as everywhere else on the planet, the Irish tradition of the party piece lives on.

A lot of the sharing now finds its way online. But at heart it’s still about presence—passing the tokens of our shared humanity from person to person.

Not fame. Not showing off. Not monetizing an experience. But about giving whatever you’ve got and showing up to honor what others give, too, be it heartfelt or hilarious, wise or whimsical.

A Wish

So here is my wish for you: One evening may you find yourself in a home where musical instruments are as much a part of the furnishings as crockery and sofa cushions. May there be apple tart and good company.

At some point, the piano or fiddle will sound, and the concertina and tin whistle will come out of their cases. But nobody’s forming a band, only forging a bond.

The tales begin telling themselves. The poems, memories, and songs emerge, like shy ponies crossing a field.

Somebody volunteers a song about love, by turns joyful and poignant. When they falter—whether from forgetting the words, or remembering the past—a neighboring singer takes up the thread.

A Gathering

The song goes around and around, until every voice has been gathered in. There’s room for everyone.

Call it an Irish tradition, though we were never so formal as all that. We were just doing our party pieces. Finding our human commonalities by sharing songs, stories, and poems. What party piece might you share when next you gather with family, friends, and friends-to-be?