Many years ago a neighbour appeared at the back door of our house carrying a fistful of orange lilies he had torn out by the roots from his garden. He was a nice man but sort of a militant Roman Catholic and would not have them in his garden. Even he however recognised the beauty of this flower and decided to evict rather than kill the offending blooms (sort of a clearance, if you like). My mother was certainly a Christian and Protestant and the (not very militant) grand daughter of an Orangeman. She knew the story of the Battle of the Boyne (1690) and also knew that these lilies were usually in glorious bloom by the time July 12 rolled around.
She was aware of that the neighbour probably felt a little silly about his action and graciously accepted his gift. Our garden was graced with beauty of these blooms for years.
