Bhí an mhargadh ag glóradh le fuinneamh an gheimhridh.

The market was bustling with the energy of winter.

Bhí na colúir sneachta ag clúdach na díonta tuí.

The snow doves were covering the thatched roofs.

Bhí sé in am don fhéile Imbolc, an tús na hathbheochana.

It was time for the Imbolc festival, the beginning of renewal.

Bhí Niamh, óg ina haige, ag siúl tríd an margadh in aice leis na díolaithe éagsúla.

Niamh, young at heart, was walking through the market near the various vendors.

Bhí Niamh fiosrach faoi thraidisiúin ársa.

Niamh was curious about ancient traditions.

Ba mhaith léi bronntanas speisialta a aimsiú don fhéile.

She wanted to find a special gift for the festival.

Bhí Cillian, ceardaitheoir sciliúil, ag a stalla lán le hearraí lámhdhéanta.

Cillian, a skilled artisan, was at his stall full of handmade goods.

Ach bhí cith imní air.

But he was clouded with worries.

Bhí caillteanas mór aige le deireanas agus ní raibh sé éasca cóirithe aige fós.

He had suffered a great loss recently and was still struggling to recover.

Bhí a intinn trom, agus bhí a lámha níos moille.

His mind was heavy, and his hands were slower.

Stealladh an gaoth fuar ar aghaidh Niamh agus chonaic sí Aoife ag ceann an mhargaidh.

The cold wind lashed at Niamh's face, and she saw Aoife at the market's edge.

Bhí Aoife ina cailleach eagnaí, agus bhí cáil uirthi as a gcríonnacht.

Aoife, a wise old woman, was renowned for her wisdom.

D'fhilleadh daoine go minic chuig Aoife le haghaidh comhairle.

People frequently returned to Aoife for advice.

Rinne Niamh a bealach chuici i gcoimeád le hintinn forbartha.

Niamh made her way to her, intent on seeking guidance.

“Niamh, a stór,” a dúirt Aoife go cineálta, “cad atá tú ag cuardach inniu?”

“Niamh, my dear,” said Aoife kindly, “what are you searching for today?”

“Ba mhaith liom rud ar leith d’Fhéile Imbolc,” arsa Niamh, beagán neirbhíseach.

“I would like something special for the Imbolc Festival,” said Niamh, a bit nervously.

Mhol Aoife léi dul go stalla Cillian.

Aoife suggested she go to Cillian's stall.

“Tá seandacht ag a lámhdhéanta,” arsa Aoife. “Chabhróidh sé leat.”

“His handmade items have an ancient quality,” said Aoife. “He will help you.”

D'éirigh Niamh bog go bealach Cillian.

Niamh gently made her way to Cillian.

Bhí an margadh ag clamhsán timpeall uirthi, ach bhí a haire dírithe.

The market was bustling around her, but her focus was unwavering.

Nuair a shroich sí stalla Cillian, d'fhoscail sé a bhrat stoc.

When she reached Cillian's stall, he opened his stock blanket.

“Dia duit, Cillian,” a dúirt Niamh, ag brath ar fáilteachas an cheardaithe.

“Hello, Cillian,” said Niamh, relying on the artisan's hospitality.

D'fhéach Cillian suas agus rinne iarracht meangadh gáire a thabhairt. “Fáilte, Niamh. Féach a bhfuil uaim.”

Cillian looked up and attempted to smile. "Welcome, Niamh. See what I have."

Labhair Cillian go cineálta cé go raibh catalaigh ar a chroí.

Cillian spoke kindly, although there was sorrow in his heart.

Thosaigh Niamh ag breathnú timpeall.

Niamh began looking around.

Bhí rud draíochtúil folaigh ann—seoid beag adhmaid le patrúin intricate.

There was something magical hidden—a small wooden ornament with intricate patterns.

Ach bhí Cillian ciúin.

But Cillian remained silent.

Tháinig Aoife chun tosaigh, feicthe aici an silocht ar Cillian.

Aoife stepped forward, perceiving the grief in Cillian.

“Cillian, inis an focal brón duit,” a dúirt sí go socair.

“Cillian, express your sorrow,” she said calmly.

Le conradh sé do chabhair.

By sharing, he may find relief.

Thosnaigh Cillian ag scaoileadh a bhróin agus inis cuid den ghlóir a imíonn leis an caillteanas.

Cillian began sharing his grief and revealed some of the glory lost with his recent losses.

Thángthas tuiscint agus brú i measc na plé.

Understanding and relief emerged during the conversation.

D'éist Niamh go grámhar agus chuir sí ar fáil cineáltas in ionad ceisteanna.

Niamh listened lovingly and offered kindness instead of questions.

“Coinnigh an píosa sin,” dúirt Cillian, ag tagairt don tseoid a roghnaigh sí.

“Keep that piece,” Cillian said, referring to the ornament she chose.

“Tá sé lán le stair agus fuinneamh an fhlaithe.

“It is filled with history and the energy of the land.

Gabh len é do Imbolc.”

Take it with you for Imbolc.”

Agus tháinig saol nua don bheirt acu.

A new life came to both of them.

D’éirigh Niamh níos muiníní faoina roghanna, agus d’fhoghlaim Cillian faoi fhírinní an tacaíochtaí pobail.

Niamh grew more confident about her choices, and Cillian learned about the truths of community support.

Bhí lasair dóchais ag an margadh geimhridh ansin, agus Imbolc ar an mbealach.

There was a flame of hope at the winter market, with Imbolc on the way.