Bhí an ghrian ag taitneamh go láidir thar Ghlean Dá Loch sa samhradh sin.

The sun was shining brightly over Glean Dá Loch that summer.

Bhí Cian, Maeve, agus Niamh ag tiomáint tríd an gleann, mar a dheineadar gach bliain, chun onóir a thabhairt dá sinsir.

Cian, Maeve, and Niamh were driving through the valley, as they did every year, to honor their ancestors.

Bhí aiféala ar Chian.

Cian was feeling a bit regretful.

Bhí aoibhneas air i gcónaí bheith anseo, ach bhí rud eile ag cothú ina chroí.

He always took delight in being there, but something else was stirring in his heart.

Bhí sé ag iarraidh faoistin a dhéanamh, éalú ar thuras ar fud an domhain.

He wanted to confess, to escape on a journey around the world.

Ach bhí na sean-nósanna ina gcuid mhór dá shaol teaghlaigh.

But the old customs were a significant part of his family life.

Bhí náire air a ghuí a chur in iúl.

He was too ashamed to express his desire.

Mar sin féin, bhí an t-am ag teacht chun an fírinne a rá.

Nevertheless, the time was approaching to speak the truth.

Ní raibh Maeve chomh tuisceanach sin.

Maeve wasn't quite as understanding.

Bean phraiticiúil í. Bhí sí dílis do thraidisiúin agus do theaghlach.

A practical woman, she was loyal to tradition and family.

Bhí sí cinnte nach raibh gá le haistriú nó le hathrú ar bith.

She was convinced there was no need for any transfer or change.

Ach bhí Niamh difriúil.

But Niamh was different.

Spiorad saor í, agus í ag impí ar Chian dul i ndiaidh a mhianta.

A free spirit, she urged Cian to follow his desires.

"Féach ar áilleacht an duillis. Níl siadsan ag coinneáil siar," a dúirt sí ag gáire, folaithe i measc gormaigh na sléibhte.

"Look at the beauty of the leaves. They’re not holding back," she said with a laugh, hidden among the blues of the mountains.

Shuigh siad síos ar bhruach an locha, ag fleascadh an pikinic.

They sat down by the lake's shore, spreading out the picnic.

Bhí an t-uisce socair, gan corraíl, mar bheatha Cian.

The water was calm, undisturbed, like Cian's life.

Ach i measc an chiúnais, labhair Cian, "Tá rud éigin le rá agam."

But amidst the silence, Cian spoke, "I have something to say."

Bhain a ráiteas stangadh as Maeve.

His statement startled Maeve.

D'amharc sí air go ceisteach.

She looked at him questioningly.

"Inniu... ba mhaith liom mo shaol a chur san eangach. Turas a dhéanamh thar lear. Rud nua a thriail."

"Today... I want to cast my life into the net. Take a trip abroad. Try something new."

Gruama ar dtús, chonaic Maeve gurb é seo fíor-bhrionglóid a dheartháir.

Initially grim, Maeve saw that this was her brother's true dream.

Ní raibh sé éasca, ach rinne sí iarracht.

It wasn't easy, but she tried.

"Cian, ní smaoineamh éasca é seo, ach má aontaíonn tú cuimhne an teaghlaigh a choinneáil beo, gabh ar aghaidh."

"Cian, this isn't an easy idea, but if you agree to keep the memory of the family alive, go ahead."

Ba leis an nóiméad sin gur aimsíodh an talamh coitianta.

In that moment, common ground was found.

Bhí áthas ar Niamh, agus bhraitheann Cian faoiseamh mór.

Niamh was happy, and Cian felt a tremendous relief.

Glacadh leis an aisling.

The dream was accepted.

Fágann siad Glean Dá Loch, an t-athrú ag luainiú taobh istigh díobh.

They left Glean Dá Loch, the change swaying inside them.

Is taistealóir anois Cian agus é ag dul amach sa saol mór, ach tuigeann sé luach a bhaile.

Cian is now a traveler venturing into the wide world, but he understands the value of his home.

An samhradh chugainn, beidh Cian ann arís, ach le scéalta nuafásta ó thíortha eile, ach fós dílis dá fhréamhacha ag Glean Dá Loch.

Next summer, Cian will be there again, but with newly woven stories from other countries, yet still loyal to his roots at Glean Dá Loch.

Thug sé dóchas don seanchas teaghlaigh, airm, agus cúl.

He gave hope to the family history, weapons, and legacy.

Beidh sé mar fhráthair i gcuimhne na gclocha agus na staire.

He will be a symbol in the memory of the stones and history.