Ar maidin ghlé, bhí ghaoth fhionnuar ag séideadh ar Aillte an Mhothair.

On a bright morning, a cool wind was blowing over the Aillte an Mhothair (Cliffs of Moher).

Bhí an tonnta ag bualadh na carraigeacha thíos, agus bhí boladh na farraige san aer.

The waves were crashing against the rocks below, and the smell of the sea was in the air.

Bhí na bláthanna ag oscailt agus bhí tírdhreach álainn Ireland ag teacht chun beatha.

The flowers were blooming, and the beautiful landscape of Ireland was coming to life.

Sa lár, bhí an Féile Cothrom an Earraigh ar siúl.

In the midst, the Féile Cothrom an Earraigh (Spring Fair) was taking place.

Bhí na daoine ag canadh, ag rince, agus ag gáire.

People were singing, dancing, and laughing.

Bhí Siobhán i measc an tslua.

Siobhán was among the crowd.

Bhí sí de shíor ag lorg saolóidí nua lena blag a líonadh.

She was constantly looking for new stories to fill her blog.

Bhí suim aici i gcultúr na hÉireann agus sna scéalta fíor.

She was interested in Irish culture and true stories.

Idir an slua, rinne sí dearmad ar a fón agus ghlac sí sna himeachtaí.

Amidst the crowd, she forgot her phone and immersed herself in the events.

I lár an aonaigh, chonaic sí Ronan.

In the middle of the fair, she saw Ronan.

Bhí sé ina sheasamh cois bothán beag, lena lámha cruinn timpeall ar phíosa adhmaid atá á sciobadh go cúramach.

He was standing beside a small booth, his hands carefully whittling a piece of wood.

D' fhéach sí uaidh.

She observed him from afar.

Bhí Ronan cúthail, ach rinne sé a shaothar le paisean.

Ronan was shy, but he worked with passion.

Bhí lámha láidre aige, agus na mionsonraí sna dealbha d’eadhain álainn.

He had strong hands, and the details in his sculptures were beautiful.

Rinne Aoife, cara dílis Ronan, comhghairdeas leis.

Aoife, Ronan's faithful friend, congratulated him.

“Ná bíodh eagla ort, Ronan,” a dúirt sí.

“Don’t be afraid, Ronan,” she said.

“Taispeáin do shaothar. Lig don domhan é a fheiceáil.”

“Show your work. Let the world see it.”

Chuala Siobhán é seo, agus theastaigh uaithi níos mó a fhoghlaim.

Siobhán heard this, and she wanted to learn more.

Chuaigh sí suas chuige.

She went up to him.

“A Ronan,” a dúirt sí go héidirmhaith, “an féidir liom sracfhéachaint níos dlúithe a fháil?”

“Ronan,” she said politely, “can I take a closer look?”

Bhí Ronan laghdaithe, ach ann do Siobhan agus Aoife, chinn sé a shaothar is fearr a thaispeáint.

Ronan felt humbled, but with Siobhán and Aoife there, he decided to show his best work.

Scaoileadh amach é píosa a chríochnaigh a athair sular thóg sé a shlí ón saol seo.

He revealed a piece his father had finished before he passed away.

D’oscail sé a chás, agus os comhair Siobhán bhí dealbhín beag déanta go fíorálainn.

He opened his case, and before Siobhán, there was a beautifully crafted small sculpture.

Bhí Siobhán faoi dhraíocht.

Siobhán was enchanted.

“Tá sé seo íontach,” a dúirt sí le Ronan.

“This is incredible,” she said to Ronan.

“Caithfidh an domhain é seo a fheiceáil.”

“The world must see this.”

Ar an gclárchláirseach bhí an ceol ag imeacht leis an gaoith, ag sroicheadh cluais gach cuairteora.

On the harp strings, the music was drifting with the wind, reaching every visitor's ear.

Le neart foighne agus brú ó Aoife, tháinig Ronan amach os comhair an tslua agus thaispeáin a shaothar.

With plenty of patience and persuasion from Aoife, Ronan came out before the crowd and showed his work.

Bhí moladh ar barr a chinn diúltach.

He received praise beyond his negative expectations.

Féach siad go léir go hoscailte, lena súile ag seinm le haitheantas.

They all looked openly, their eyes shining with recognition.

Bhí sos iontach ann.

There was a wonderful pause.

Bhí muinín ag dul i dtreis i gcroí Ronan agus a fhios aige go raibh oidhreacht a athar fós beo.

Confidence was growing in Ronan's heart, knowing that his father’s legacy was still alive.

D'fhág Siobhán an féile le scéal úrnua.

Siobhán left the festival with a new story.

Bhí sí tar éis nasc fíorchroíúil a dhéanamh, ceann nach raibh sí ag súil leis.

She had made a heartfelt connection, one she hadn’t expected.

Bhí a fhios aici go mbeadh seime mé sa bhlag, ach níos tábhachtaí fós, bhí sí fuair teach aisteach.

She knew it would end up on the blog, but more importantly, she found an intriguing home.

Suigh síos éisteacht le scéal a bhí an cath os comhair dúshlán, ag síneadh an anála ó chroí amháin chun an chlois eile.

Sit down to listen to a tale that had battled challenges, stretching the breath from one heart to hear another.

Bhí Ronan, an réalta nua i bhfreasúra a phobail féin, ag iarraidh an todhchaí a fhí.

Ronan, the new star in his own community’s opposition, was striving to weave the future.

Síocháin réidh le teacht arís.

Peace was ready to come again.