Fellow Pilgrims

Meeting an old soul is always a joy for me, and meeting Irish ones are even more exiting: this past few days have been a delight in that way.

Allen: was an older man could not tell you his age, but he had bright eyes and a love of Jane Austen, good literature and good grammar. We passionately talked, leafed and shared the stories of his youth and travels, simple joys of loving harts and of the county side. We shared a communion of souls that was such a treasure. As we said good bye and hugged, we two seemed to wish that we would reconnect some day. After that he stepped into his reality, of who knows what poverty, and I into mine. I felt a bit of my hart find something it was missing and refreshed with hope for what life could be and what it is missing. A new hunger and love of my fellow creatures…

Grase: a beautiful Irish grandmother, with a joy in serving, a humor and feistiness that I can only but hope to have at her age. As we served beans and toast in the most beautiful way – she shared her humor, her hart for the young boys that came in (with a mothers sharp criticism as well), her broken hart, and her new gardening endeavors. I look forward to serving with her in the future and hope to learn from this Iris gem!