The old gray sweatshirt now has a hole.

Given to me more than 50 years ago, it looks like something I should be using to scrub the kitchen floor.

Yet I still wear it around the house and have no plans to banish the shirt to the rag bag.

Why? Because in faded letters it proclaims across the front, “I act different because I am different.”

The friend who gave me that sweatshirt really knew me. Truer words would be hard, if not impossible, to find.

I thought about the message on that sweatshirt a few days ago when another friend and I were having a friendly disagreement and she concluded by telling me, “You’re really different.”

The subject of our divergent views? March. Yes, the third month of the calendar year.

She hates it. I love it.

Like my friend, a great-aunt of mine despised March.

I recall her complaining, “I wish we could skip March. Why do we have to have such an awful month?”

I had a ready answer for her. “Aunt Alice, if we didn’t have March, you wouldn’t have me.”

March is my birth month. So I suppose it’s only fitting that I would favor this month.

But it has so much more to offer.

March is wild and crazy and unpredictable. Already we have seen evidence of that this year.

People born in July or August can expect heat on their birthdays. Folks born in December, January and February can be pretty sure their birthday parties will have to be held indoors.

May, June and September celebrants know the landscape and weather will be favorable for outdoor fun.

But March? Who knows?

I have spent my birthday on a ski slope and on a beach. Year to year, I never know what to expect. Talk about birthday surprises!

To me, March signifies hope and promise. Winter ends and spring begins in my favorite month.

Purple and white crocuses poke their heads out of the ground in our backyard. Robins appear.

The Philadelphia Flower Show, a favorite event of mine for decades, makes its one-week-a-year appearance in March.

A college basketball fan, I eagerly look forward to March Madness during my birthday month.

Spring training is taking place during March, readying our favorite baseball players for the summer games.

St. Patrick’s Day festivities turn March (and beer) green for a few days of spirited fun.

March brings exuberant winds, perfect for flying a kite.

I am sure some March haters would love to tell me to go fly a kite.

March’s positives far outweigh its few negatives, in my opinion.

In fact, the only aspect of March I can’t stand is the start of Daylight Saving Time. I have one of those bodies that cannot adjust to artificial time.

In March, Easter is on the horizon. Pretty pastels and colorful eggs adorn store displays.

Luscious candies resembling bunnies and chicks tempt us to forget our New Year’s resolutions.

There is much to celebrate, besides my birthday, in the month of March.

March Madness (no, not March Badness) is a perfect description of the month that knows no boundaries. March can be whatever it chooses to be each year.

March is not like other month. To quote my sweatshirt, March acts different because it is different.

And that’s exactly the way I like it.