Cead mile failte

(pronounced “kaid meela falltcha”)

That’s Gaelic for a “hundred thousand welcomes.”

Ireland has been very hospitable to me. People tend to speak their mind but they don’t seem to see a need to be rude about it or beat around the bush either. I like that. Granted I’ve been in Ireland only one week but this is my initial impression. My experience has also been shaped by my very international hostel, my good fortune to get amazing hostel mates and the unusual circumstances with the volcano that grounded the planes and kept us together for many more days than we would have been. It’s looking like people may be able to leave Ireland this Wednesday.

Sunday I toured Russborough, a historic mansion in Co. Wicklow and southwest of Dublin. It was a showcase of beautiful things that others on the tour gasped about over and over. I found myself asking the tour guide questions about the husband and wife who had last lived there and who had set up a foundation to make the house and grounds available to be viewed by the public. I wanted to know how they found each other, why the woman looked so sad in each painting of her, what was their story, why did they not have children? Our guide knew the story of every antique and priceless painting but knew almost nothing of the story of the people. It made me feel sad that the only stories that remain are of the things and not the people.

It’s lambing season here in Ireland. I was fortunate to see a little black lamb come out of the bushes and got a picture. I can relate—I was the black sheep in my family.

My prayer is that God would bless me and guide me to live a life that is filled with more faith, hope and love than things.