Bhí sneachta trom ag titim taobh amuigh den fhuinneog, línte na cathrach sáite faoin gcliabhán bán.

Heavy snow was falling outside the window, the city's outlines buried under the white blanket.

Sa chith sin, thosaigh Aisling ag obair ar maidin i bhforas mór baincéireachta in ardchathair Bhaile Átha Cliath.

In that shower, Aisling started her morning work at a large banking institution in the capital city of Baile Átha Cliath.

Bhí crann Nollag mór fós suite sa lárionad, a réalta órga ag soilsiú i ndorcha an gheimhridh.

A large Christmas tree was still standing in the center, its golden star shining in the winter darkness.

Ba dhóigh le duine go raibh giúmar na réalta ag soilsiú istigh inti freisin, ach bhí imní le brath in intinn Aisling.

One might think that the star's mood was shining within her as well, but there was anxiety in Aisling's mind.

Ag tabhairt aghaidh ar an Deasc Cúnta, rinne sí iarracht díriú ar nathanna agus réitigh faidhbe, rud a bhí de dhualgas uirthi.

Facing the Help Desk, she tried to focus on phrases and problem-solving, which were her duties.

Ach, rith na smaointe faoina deartháir Cian trína hintinn gan staonadh.

Yet, thoughts of her brother Cian ran through her mind relentlessly.

Ag cruinniú an teaghlaigh ag an Nollaig, bhí ráite aige nár thuig sí riamh cén fáth a raibh sé chomh suaimhneach agus nár iarr sé níos mó ón saol.

At the family gathering during Christmas, he had said that she never understood why he was so content and never asked for more from life.

D’fhág an chaint sin marc sa mheon aici.

That conversation left a mark on her mindset.

Le linn sos caife, d’fhéach Aisling trína cúinne oibre tríd an bhfhuinneog, an fhuinneog a d’irísíodh di go n-éiríodh sí nuair a bhí a intinn faoi glas.

During her coffee break, Aisling looked through her workspace corner window, the window that allowed her to find her way when her mind was locked.

D'éirigh sí ina seasamh, ag baint de chasóg a culaith, agus sheas sí ag an margadh aice na cúinne.

She stood up, removed the jacket of her suit, and stood by the market near the corner.

Bhí fís shoiléir aici: an t-am a dhéanamh i gceart chun dul i dteagmháil le Cian.

She had a clear vision: to make time to reach out to Cian.

Bhí plean aici, rud annamh do na chuairteanna mear faoi amanna oibre.

She had a plan, unusual for quick visits during work hours.

Níorbh éasca é, an chosán nach breathnaíonn ar an am, ach b'fhiú go mór í.

It wasn’t easy, the path that doesn’t look at the time, but it was well worth it.

Ba ghearr a bhí sí i gcaife Béal na Cathrach.

Soon, she was at a cafe in Béal na Cathrach.

Shuigh sí ag bord leis féin, áit a raibh béicíl na trácht, siopaí i bhfad, agus cur fíochmhar an bhaile gheimhridh ag déanamh torann bog, socair.

She sat at a table by herself, where the shouting of the traffic, distant shops, and the fierce coming of the winter city made a gentle, soothing noise.

Bhí buíochán fós le sonrú i bpilliúr na mbaile Nollag, i bhfallaí galánta a bhí ag stopadh an fuachta amach.

The warmth was still visible in the Christmas homes' pillows, in the elegant walls that kept the cold at bay.

Chuir sí glaoch ar Cian.

She called Cian.

Bhí amhras ann, ach tar éis cúpla clog, d'fhreagair sé.

There was doubt, but after a few rings, he answered.

"Dia dhuit, Cian," arsa Aisling go congarach.

"Hello, Cian," said Aisling softly.

Bhí strain sa fuaimeadh a hathbhualadh, rud a chúis scáthanna sa guth.

There was strain in her voice, causing shadows in the tone.

"Tá mé ag cuimhneamh ar an Nollaig.

"I’ve been thinking about Christmas.

Ar an rud a dúirt tú.

About what you said."

"D'fhéach sí ar an margadh thart, daoine ag dul thar bráid, le little darkness imithe óna n-éadaí.

She looked around the market, people passing by, a little darkness lifted from their clothes.

D'éist Cian, agus d'éirigh siad ag comhrá go ciúin.

Cian listened, and they quietly began to converse.

Mhínigh Aisling a cuid brú ón obair – ón sprioc agus an ardtaise an tuairimre nua sa todhchaí.

Aisling explained her work pressures – the targets and the high expectations for the future.

Mhothaigh sí an gá le bheith foirfe, le cinntiú nach gcaillfeadh sí focal ná compás i saol an oifig.

She felt the need to be perfect, to ensure she didn’t lose track in the office world.

"Tuigim," a d'fhreagair Cian faoi dheireadh, go caoin.

"I understand," Cian finally replied, gently.

"Ach ní dhéanaim mór shaothar díom féin.

"But I don't make a big deal of things myself.

Is fearr liom éisteacht le soilse an tsaoil.

I prefer to listen to the lights of life."

"D'éirigh an comhrá níos éadroime mar go bhfuil siad ábalta an talamh coiteann a aimsiú.

The conversation lightened as they managed to find common ground.

Aontaithe faoi dheireadh, ghabh said leithscéalta dá chéile.

Reconciled in the end, they apologized to each other.

Léirigh Cian do Aisling nach raibh aon bhaint ag rudaí níos tábhachtaí cosúil le ceangal teaghlaigh le hualach obair.

Cian showed Aisling that more important things like family ties had nothing to do with the burden of work.

Ag imeacht an tráthnóna sin ón gcaife, bhí níos mó éadromaíocht ina gcroí arís.

As she left the cafe that afternoon, there was more lightness in their hearts again.

D’fhág an tsneachta orlach breise a ritheann go réidh anois, ag tabhairt léiriú úr don tsráid.

The snow left an extra inch now, running smoothly, giving the street a fresh appearance.

Tuigithí gur scéal le leanúint agus tógáil ar dhreas diúltach an argoint.

They understood it was a story to follow and build upon, dismissing negative arguments.

Bhí saibhreas ann in éisteacht, sa chomhbheith.

There was wealth in listening, in being together.

D’éirigh leo bealach nua a aimsiú, ainmníodh go n-ilfhéideartha é.

They found a new path, named in a myriad of possibilities.