Tá fuinneamh iontach ar Shráid Ghrattan i mBaile Átha Cliath.

There is a great energy on Sráid Ghrattan in Baile Átha Cliath.

Tá sí soilseach le soilse geal agus go leor daoine ag siopadóireacht.

It is bright with bright lights and many people shopping.

Tá cith sneachta ag titim go héadrom ar an slua, ag cur le draíocht an tséasúir.

A light snow shower is falling on the crowd, adding to the magic of the season.

Tá Siobhán ag siúl ar feadh na sráide, a croí éadrom ach a hintinn trom.

Siobhán is walking along the street, her heart light but her mind heavy.

Tá sí ag cuardach bronntanais a bheidh níos mó ná bronntanas amháin.

She is searching for gifts that will be more than just gifts.

Tá sí ag iarraidh nasc a dhéanamh le hAoife, a deirfiúr.

She wants to reconnect with Aoife, her sister.

Tamall ó shin, bhí rud éigin idir iad, ach ní cuimhin le Siobhán cén fáth a d'fhás an fad orthu.

Some time ago, something came between them, but Siobhán doesn't remember why they grew apart.

In aice léi, tá Cormac ag siúl, a cara le fada.

Beside her, Cormac, her longtime friend, is walking.

Tá sé dírithe, ag iarraidh cabhrú le Siobhán.

He is focused, trying to help Siobhán.

Tugann sé faoi deara gur mhaith leis an ceangal a dhéanamh níos mó agus níos speisialta.

He notices that he wants to make the connection more significant and special.

“Cá dtosóimid?” a cheistíonn sé, súil ag lasadh.

“Where do we start?” he asks, his eyes lighting up.

"Tá bréagáin, cumhráin, éadaí…"

"There are toys, perfumes, clothes..."

Siúlann siad ó shiopa go siopa, ní ar mhaithe le rudaí ach ar mhaithe le smaointe, ag féachaint ar scáthán na n-éadaí agus na gcoinnle múiníneacha.

They walk from shop to shop, not for material things but for ideas, looking at displays of clothes and scented candles.

Ach níl siad cinnte cad is ceart d'Aoife.

But they aren’t sure what would be right for Aoife.

Níl an gadhar ag tabhairt le tuisce.

The inspiration isn’t hitting.

De réir a chéile, stopann Siobhán ag amid siopa beag ina bhfuil rudaí lámhdhéanta.

Gradually, Siobhán stops in front of a small shop filled with handmade items.

Tá croíchloch aici gur b'fhéidir go bhfuil seo ró-phearsanta, ach cuirtear uirthi isteach sa chás.

She has a feeling that these might be too personal, but she feels compelled to enter.

Tagann fadhb eile san aighneacht: an t-am.

Another problem emerges: time.

Tá an uaireacht ag léiríonn siúlacha go tapa; fanann seans acu d’íaon phianbhreith.

The clock shows that time is flying by; they have few chances left in the day.

Tá a lán siopadóirí tuirsiúla ag dul thar bráid iad.

Many tired shoppers are passing them by.

Go tobann, trí mheascán corr chorrach de dhóchas agus turraing, fheiceann sí Aoife ag teas go tapa tarraingthe céim.

Suddenly, through a strange mix of hope and surprise, she sees Aoife coming quickly with decisive steps.

Tá cuma riachtanach ar Aoife, ag caint lena fón.

Aoife looks focused, talking on her phone.

"B'fhéidir gur cheart duit a hiarradh anois?" a deir Cormac go ciúin, a lámh ag brú úigeach ar ghualainn Siobhán.

"Maybe you should approach her now?" Cormac says quietly, his hand gently pressing on Siobhán’s shoulder.

"Níl a fhios aici go bhfuil tú anseo."

"She doesn’t know you’re here."

Glacann Siobhan aerán.

Siobhán takes a breath.

"Beidh sí mar an gcéanna, an sílim?"

"Will she be the same, I wonder?"

Go gcruthaíonn uirthi aghaidh crua, théann Siobhán trasna na sráide go dtí a deirfiúr.

Trying to maintain a strong face, Siobhán crosses the street to her sister.

"Aoife," a ghlaofann sí, ag iarracht fonn a sheasamh.

"Aoife," she calls, trying to keep her voice steady.

Breathnaíonn Aoife thart go mísh ceart, ansin milis urraithe.

Aoife looks around uncertainly, then softens sweetly.

"Siobhán? Ar an slí seo?"

"Siobhán? Here?"

Ag dhiúltú a scáthán a threorú, scaoileann Siobhán bronntanas beag amach o her phíosa cniotáilte lámhdhéanta, súile buartha.

Resisting any show of hesitation, Siobhán pulls out a small handmade knitted gift, her eyes worried.

"Rinne mé é sin le haghaidh tú," deir sí réidh.

"I made this for you," she says gently.

"Teastaíonn uaim go bhfuil a fhios agat... gurb é an ciallmhar a bheadh liom."

"I want you to know... it means a lot to me."

Fanann Aoife faoi hypotheitic sintiúsach a thógáil na rudaí.

Aoife pauses before taking the heartfelt item.

"Mise tú? Ó, a Siobhán." Braitheann Aoife an bonn croíthrice.

"You made it? Oh, Siobhán." Aoife feels her heart swell with emotion.

Tosaíonn caint, níos faide ná na n-éice, níos faide ná pobal Garandartha.

They start talking, beyond what words can express, beyond the bustling crowd.

Tá focail ag leathnú ar fud lucht siúil, mar sheochthe.

Words spread like waves among travelers, like whispered messages.

Tá an neartach á gcur in iúl le hiarracht is glóir: smaointe, smaointe is maithithe, in ainneoin briseadh á leathnú.

The powerful connection is conveyed through effort and grace: thoughts, thoughts forgive, despite past breaks spreading.

Aistríonn Siobhan a súile ar Chormac, ag tabhairt buíochas nach bhfuil ní amháin sí ag tabhair faoi deara mar atá sásta, ach freisin ca bcuil gach brú go dtí an lámh is cáirde.

Siobhán looks at Cormac, grateful that not only does she feel observed as happy, but also that every pressure has been handed with care to a friendly hand.

Is breá le Cormac soiscéal síochánta de na cosaetaí go léir.

Cormac loves the peaceful message of all happy endings.

D'fhoghlaim Siobhán an tábhacht a bhaineann le bheith fearnachta, éileamh ag dílis: léargas do chroíchríonna féin a dhíol le daoine eile.

Siobhán learned the importance of being brave, of claiming loyalty: embracing your heartfelt truths to share with others.

Leáingeann siad go mall trídaon aeir, muna mar d'fhéadfadh éinne anseo.

They blend slowly into the open air, as softly as possible.

Beirt deirfiúr, ina mblianta faoina lánscoth, agus cara dílis staonach, ag fáil réidh altóirí blianta faoi an úill.

Two sisters, in their best years, and a steadfast loyal friend, putting away years' altars under a shared horizon.