Bhí an ghrian ag lonradh go geal thar na Cnoic Chill Mhantáin, ceol na n-éan ag líonadh an aer leis an solas atá ag éirí níos ísle mar a bheadh sé ag teitheadh ón gheimhreadh.

The sun was shining brightly over the Cnoic Chill Mhantáin, the song of birds filling the air with the light that was becoming fainter as if fleeing from winter.

Lár an tsamhraidh é, ach bhí aer úr sna sléibhte agus na bláthanna fiáine ag damhsa faoin ngaoith.

It was the middle of summer, but there was fresh air in the mountains and wildflowers dancing in the wind.

Sa lár an easa chomh álainn sin, bhí ospidéal réimse scoite amach i ngleann ciúin.

In the midst of this stunning waterfall, there was a remote hospital set in a quiet valley.

Bhí Aoife, bana lia bhólachta feabhais agus foighne, ann, ag déanamh aithniú ar an dream ag fulaingt le galar na hárda.

Aoife, a skilled and patient cattlewoman, was there, attending to those suffering from altitude sickness.

Bhí a fhios aici cé chomh contúirteach a d’fhéadfadh an t-altúid bheith, agus ba mhian léi go mbeadh gach duine sábháilte.

She knew how dangerous the altitude could be and wished for everyone's safety.

Tháinig go leor daoine go dtí an áit seo chun an dúlra álainn a fheiceáil, ach ní gach duine acu a bhí réidh don airde.

Many people came to this place to see the beautiful nature, but not all were ready for the heights.

Bhí Cian ar cheann díobh siúd.

Cian was one of those people.

Fear seiftiúil a bhí ann, ach bhí eagla ann go bhfaigheadh sé náire mura mbeadh sé in ann cabhair a ghlacadh.

He was a resourceful man, but he feared being embarrassed if he couldn't accept help.

Chuaigh sé isteach sa teltan, súile dóite amach ina aghaidh.

He walked into the tent, eyes burned into his face.

Bhí Aoife ag faireanach air; bhí a súile oscailte, compordach ach fós diongbháilte.

Aoife was watching him; her eyes were open, comfortable yet resolute.

"Conas atá tú, Cian?" a d’fhiafraigh sí go cairdiúil.

"How are you, Cian?" she asked warmly.

Shíl sé ar feadh soicind, ach d’fhan sé ciúin, inniúil go bhféadfadh a thost a bheith mar chosaint.

He thought for a moment but remained silent, aware that his silence might serve as protection.

Chuir Aoife a lámh ar a ghualainn.

Aoife placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Is cuma cé chomh láidir atá tú, don’tan don’tan mór é seo," a dúirt sí libh gan bhrú.

"No matter how strong you are, the mountain is a big one," she said gently, without pressure.

"Is áilleacht ann a bheith in ann glacadh le lámh cabhrach."

"There's beauty in accepting a helping hand."

Bhí Cian ag cogar an chogarnach ina intinn féin, 'cad é má dhéanann mé amadán de mo féin?' ach bhí rud éigin ina súile Aoife; doimhneas tuisceana agus ní gan úire, rud éigin a chuir in iúl dó go dtuigeann sí, go ndearna sí é seo cheana féin na céadta uair.

Cian whispered the whisper in his own mind, 'what if I make a fool of myself?' but there was something in Aoife's eyes; a depth of understanding, and not without freshness, something that showed him she understood, that she had done this hundreds of times before.

Nuair a cuireadh an cheist gan stró, bhog sé a chinn le fada faicheall, mothú na muinéalta ag éirí ina éadán.

When the question was asked without stress, he nodded slowly, feeling the warmth rising in his cheeks.

"Táim ceart go leor," a dúirt sé, ach shaigh sé na focail gan a lán misneach.

"I'm okay," he said, but he spoke the words without much courage.

D’fhan Aoife socair, ag cuimilt glas na gaim go mín.

Aoife stayed calm, softly brushing the green of the sea.

"Tá tú anseo anois, agus b’éigean do dhaoine freastal ort," a mheabhraigh sí, suaimhneas fós caillte ar a glór.

"You're here now, and people needed to attend to you," she reminded him, still lost in tranquility in her voice.

Thug Cian faoi deara an bualadh croí níos chomhordaithe, pian mionchroí ag gluaiseacht stàd.

Cian noticed the more coordinated heartbeat, the minor heartache moving aside.

"Níl sé mícheart," a mhothú sé ina chroí.

"It's not wrong," he felt in his heart.

Faoi dheireadh, lig sé di cabhair a thabhairt dó.

Finally, he allowed her to help him.

Mar a thit an oíche agus mar a bhí sé ag titim mar chaithiriom, d’éirigh sí fearless ag soláthar a bhfíor céard faoina ndéineacht féin.

As night fell and descended like a curtain, she became fearless in providing their true strength.

Bunaíodh muinín go tapa.

Trust was quickly established.

Nuair a dhúisigh Cian an lá ina dhiaidh sin, bhí gile nua ann ina chroí.

When Cian woke the next day, there was a new brightness in his heart.

Ní raibh sé ag iarraidh léim díreach isteach sa srlán, ach bhí dóchas aige as an gcabhair a fuair sé.

He didn't want to leap straight into the saddle, but he had hope from the help he received.

Mar a raibh Aoife agus Cian ag caint faoi, bhí an grian ag dul síos, ag scaoileadh ach amháin seanáit na sléibhte ann.

As Aoife and Cian talked, the sun was setting, revealing only the old place of the mountains there.

I measc na haontoise, bhí nochtadh dearbanta ag pleidi inár gcumas an t-iompóid a fhásamh.

Amid the unity, there was a confirmed revelation in the confidence we cultivate.

Anois, bhí Aoife níos misniúla as a cuid comhráite agus a maitheas neamheaglach, ach thaispeáin sé do Cian go ndeachaigh glacadh an t-ógraidh níos láidre.

Now, Aoife was braver with her conversations and her fearless kindness, but it showed Cian that embracing the call of youth was stronger.

Bhí sé ag cur fáilte roimh ré ina dtreo.

He was welcoming the new direction.

Sna laethanta a lean, de réir mar a bhí na céimeanna buailte níos gaire don gheimhreadh, d’fhill Cian ar an athrú sa saghas céanna den tSaol agus thug sé aghaidh cinnte ar an gcabhair ar fad.

In the days that followed, as the steps drew closer to winter, Cian returned to the change in the same kind of life and faced the help with certainty.

Bhí lasair thiarnúil ann anois.

There was a noble flame now.