Sa gheimhreadh crua, bhí sé fuar istigh i mBaile Átha Cliath.

In the harsh winter, it was cold inside Baile Átha Cliath.

Bhí Niamh ag siúl go tapa trí Ardeaglais Chríost, éadóchas ina súile.

Niamh was walking quickly through Ardeaglais Chríost, desperation in her eyes.

Bhí scáthán fuar ag teacht isteach trí na fuinneoga móra, ag soilsiú na bpewanna ársa.

A cold light was coming in through the large windows, illuminating the ancient pews.

Bhí sí ag cuardach litreacha tábhachtacha, litir rúnmhar a raibh eagla uirthi go léifí í.

She was searching for important letters, a secret letter she feared might be read.

Rinne an séasúr fuar, na cloganna ciúine, agus torann na turasóirí an chuardach níos déacra.

The cold season, the quiet bells, and the noise of tourists made the search more difficult.

Fadó agus istigh sa ardeaglais, chonaic sí Cillian.

Long ago and inside the cathedral, she saw Cillian.

Fuair sé an litir, a raibh Niamh imníoch faoi.

He had found the letter Niamh was worried about.

Bhí sé ina sheasamh, ag stánadh ar pháipéar beag ina lámh, smaointe ag dul trína chloigeann.

He was standing, staring at the small paper in his hand, thoughts running through his mind.

Cad atá sa litir? Cén fáth a bhfuil sí chomh tábhachtach?

What is in the letter? Why is it so important?

Bhí Niamh ag druidim leis, a gcosa ag bualadh go tapa ar an urlár cloiche.

Niamh was approaching him, her feet tapping quickly on the stone floor.

Bhí sí ag iarraidh gan ligean don eagla a cuid beagán féin-rialaithe a bhaint.

She was trying not to let fear take away her bit of self-control.

Ach bhí sí réidh le dul i gcomórtas lena rún beag.

But she was ready to confront her little secret.

Tháinig sí níos gaire, faoi scáthanna altráthacha agus cloch na hardteampaill.

She came closer, under the shifting shadows and the stone of the high temple.

“Tá an litir sin agam,” a bhí iontach di.

"I have that letter," she said with urgency.

Bhí a guth íseal, ach briseadh imní tríd.

Her voice was low, but worry broke through.

“Tabhair ar ais é, le do thoil. Tá sé persoanta.”

"Give it back, please. It's personal."

Bhí Cillian ag iarraidh an rogha a dhéanamh.

Cillian was trying to make the decision.

Féachann sé ar aghaidh Niamh, a súile lán le himní agus dóchas.

He looked at Niamh's face, her eyes full of anxiety and hope.

Bhí a fhios aige go raibh rogha aige: príobháideacht a urramú nó fiosracht a shásamh.

He knew he had a choice: respect privacy or satisfy curiosity.

Tar éis nóiméad ciúnais, d'fhill sé ar an gceartas.

After a moment of quiet, he returned to fairness.

"Seo duit," a dúirt sé, ag tabhairt ar ais an litir.

"Here you go," he said, handing back the letter.

"Tá súil agam nach ndearna mé damáiste."

"I hope I haven't caused any harm."

Ghlac Niamh an litir go buíoch.

Niamh accepted the letter gratefully.

Bhí faoiseamh ina aghaidh.

There was relief on her face.

"Go raibh maith agat, Cillian," a d’fhreagair sí go bog, ag mothú muiníne dá bharr.

"Thank you, Cillian," she replied softly, feeling confidence as a result.

Chuaigh sí amach as an alcove, céim níos éadroime uirthi.

She walked out of the alcove, a lighter step upon her.

Fágadh Cillian ina sheasamh, mothú sásamh ag líonadh a chroí.

Cillian was left standing, a feeling of satisfaction filling his heart.

Thuig sé anois an tábhacht atá le cineáltas thar fiosracht.

He now understood the importance of kindness over curiosity.

Rinneadh cinneadh; d'fhoghlaim Niamh muinín níos mó a bheith aici as daoine eile, agus d'fhoghlaim Cillian go raibh an sásamh ó chabhraíodh le duine eile i bhfad níos fearr ná fiosracht a shaothrú.

A decision was made; Niamh learned to trust others more, and Cillian learned that the satisfaction from helping someone else was far better than pursuing curiosity.

Bhí an t-ardeaglais fós san fhaoileán, chomh séimh, chomh sean céanna agus iad san áthais go ndeachaigh an eachtra i dtreo cóir.

The cathedral remained in the quiet, as serene, as old as ever, content that the event went in a fair direction.