Máirt Inide, Máirt Ramhar

Imríonn duine ina tíorthaí níos teofholach ag imeacht a cheiliúradh anocht. Tá Máirt Ramhar as Fraincise, ar ndóigh. Tá seans déanach do dhóthain de feoil a chaitheamh sula Caighas.

Ar scor ar bith, tá aimsir difriúl nuair ag teacht níos faide o thuaidh. Insíonn mo fhoclóir orm triú shamplaí. Athraim siad: "Téitear faoistin a dhéanamh le duine na hÉireann." "Déanann siad faoistin ar a pheacaí." "Cuireann muid a pheacaí i bhfaoistin." Tá sé ciall go tabhartach go follasach as Gaeilge!

Cén fáth? Tá Máirt Inide as Gaeilge inniu. Mar sin, tá lá a déanamh aithri i briseadh dlí. Is docha go raibh duine níos lu ag dul ar an bosca faoistine anois ina Éirinn. Mar sin féin, tá sé lena chur i gcuimhne go uirísle orainn.

Dearmadaim mise féin go minic go raibh gá air seo ormsa féin. Mar shampla, scríobh mé ar an Domhnaigh seo caite anseo faoi creideamh agus polaitíocht. Bhí ábhar is goilliúnach. Chaill mé trí giollaí ar Bhlogtrotter níos tapaidh.

Go híorónta, bhí mé beagnach ag tosú a scríobh in áit faoi ag cur cuairt agam ar dhá séipéal dhá uair ar feadh an seachtaine seo caite. Cheap mé faoí láthair ag plé an fadbh nuair ní raibh creideamh a bheith agam i nDia Críostaí, ach táthar dúil air Dia a ghuí in ainm duine eile go grách.

Shiúl mé cúpla coiscéim ar leabharlann in aice leis scoil Nhiall an seachtaine is an lá inniu. Ní raibh mé ag siúlta le deanaí ann. Chuaigh mé thar an doras shéipéal. Stad mé noimead isteach Naomh Domhnaigh ina Chloch na hIolaire. Mheas mé faoi na tuismeitheoiraí agam.

An Domhnach seo caite, níl ábalta ag fáil ionad pháirceála carranna saor ag timpeall síopa na bhearbóir. Fuair mé áiteannaí go leor ag straid is gaire dhó. Stop mé ag trasna Naomh Proinsias ina Loch na hAirgead.

Chríochnaigh bearradh gruaige agam. Fhill mé ar ais mo ghluastain. D'imigh mé istigh ar ball beag. Smaoinigh mé faoi mo theaglach aríst. D'fhán beagán. Ansin, d'éirigh mé.

D'fhág mé ar ais mo bhaile. Léigh mé an alt conspóideach go raibh ag tugtha ar mo chara ann. Bhí iontach liomsa air. Ní raibh go cinnte a scríobh faoi an alt. Ar thit mé i bpeaca?

Níl fhíos agam. Ach, bheartaigh mé a bheith ar aon bharúil le daoine eile leis agaibh féin. Caithim ag déanamh a bheith go hionraic liomsa agus leatsa faoi mo thuairimí. Níl freagairt go furasta ar chor ar bith agam. Eistim ar duine eile agus measaim mise féin.

Shrove Tuesday, Fat Tuesday

People go out in lands warmer-blooded to celebrate tonight. It's Fat Tuesday in French, naturally. There's a last chance to get lots of meat before Lent.

However, there's a different season when coming farther to the north. My dictionary tells me a trio of examples. I alter them: "One goes to make confession as one of the people of Ireland." "They confess for their sins." "They put their sins into confession." It's an important meaning obviously in Irish!

What's the reason? It's Shrove Tuesday in Irish today. That is, it's a day to make penance for wrongdoing [="breaking a law"]. It's likely that there may be fewer going to the confessional box now in Ireland. All the same, it's a reminder for humility for us.

I forget myself often that there may be a need for this myself. For example, I wrote this past Sunday on my blog here about belief and politics. It was a sensitive subject. I lost three followers of Blogtrotter very quickly.

Ironically, I was almost starting to write instead about my paying two visits to two churches. [N.B. in Irish, "séipéal" for "chapel" denotes a Catholic place of worship as "church" came to mean a Protestant edifice.] I was thinking about discussing the problem when one lacks faith in the Christian God, but one has a desire to pray to God in the name of other loved ones.

I walked a short way to the library near Niall's school a week ago today. I had not walked lately there. I went past the chapel door. I stayed a moment inside St. Dominic's in Eagle Rock. I thought about my parents.

This last Sunday, I was not able to get a free location for parking a car around the barber's shop. I found plenty of places on the street next over from there. I stopped across St. Francis in Silver Lake.

I finished my hair cut. I returned back to my car. I went off inside for a short while. I thought about my family again. I stayed awhile. Then, I got up.

I left back for my home. I read there an controversial article that was sent from my friend. I wondered about it. I was not sure to write about the essay. Did I fall into sin?

I don't know. I strive to share the opinions of other people with yourselves. I must make an honest effort for myself and for you concerning my opinions. I do not have any easy answers at all. I listen to other people and I judge for myself.

Íomhá/ Illustration: Eric Gill. Naomh Antoine/ "St. Anthony"(1926)