Ar maidin fuar geimhridh, bhí an aimsir go dubhach ar Chósta Dhún na nGall.

On a cold winter morning, the weather was gloomy on the Dún na nGall Coast.

Bhí an ceathanna mín ag titim go mall agus an ghaoth ag séideadh go fíochmhar.

The soft showers were falling slowly, and the wind was blowing fiercely.

Bhí Aoife ag siúl go gasta, a súile greamaithe ar an talamh thíos faoina cosa.

Aoife was walking quickly, her eyes fixed on the ground beneath her feet.

Bhí sé lá Bríde, tús an earraigh, ach ní raibh aon chomhartha den séasúr nua le feiceáil.

It was St. Brigid's Day, the beginning of spring, but there was no sign of the new season to be seen.

Bhí Cormac in aice léi, a lámh ag cuimilt go bog ar a druim le misneach a thabhairt.

Cormac was beside her, his hand gently rubbing her back to give comfort.

Bhí sé fiosrach ach suaimhneach, a shúile ag lorg rud éigin geal i measc na gcarraigeacha troma.

He was curious yet calm, his eyes looking for something bright among the heavy rocks.

"Tá tú cinnte, Aoife?" a d'fhiafraigh sé go réidh.

"Are you sure, Aoife?" he asked gently.

Cé go raibh an aimsir garbh, bhí a chalmacht cosúil le cuan d’fhaoiseamh.

Despite the harsh weather, his calmness was like a harbor of relief.

D’fhéach Aoife air, a croí trom.

Aoife looked at him, her heart heavy.

"Tá mé cinnte, Cormac. Caithfidh sinn é a fháil inniu. An gá duit tuiscint?"

"I'm sure, Cormac. We must find it today. Do you understand?"

Bhí seansuíomh mór ag an ngreim seo dá seanmháthair.

This search had significant meaning for her grandmother.

Bhí sé mar chéim siar go dtí a óige, áit a raibh sí saor ó bhrú an tsaoil.

It was a step back to her youth, where she was free from life's pressures.

Bhraith sí go bhféadfadh sí cuid den am sin a aisghabháil má fuarthas an rud luachmhar seo.

She felt she could reclaim some of that time if this valuable thing was found.

Ach bhí an aimsir ag éirí níos measa. Scéalta faoina gaotha síorghaoitheacha agus farraigí contúirteacha.

But the weather was worsening, with stories about its ever-blowing winds and dangerous seas.

Choinnigh sí ag siúl.

She kept walking.

Bhí na carraigeacha géar faoin a cosa brúidiúil.

The sharp rocks under her feet were brutal.

Ag amanna, bhí an taoide ró-gharbh.

At times, the tide was too rough.

Bhí imní uirthi, ach bhí neart in ann a haigne.

She was worried but had strength within her mind.

Bhí cinneadh le déanamh.

A decision had to be made.

Bhí amhras uirthi fanacht ann, an raibh sé ciallmhar?

She was unsure whether to stay, was it wise?

Ach ní raibh fonn uirthi éirí as.

But she had no desire to give up.

Choinnigh Cormac ag cuartú, a aireachtáil calma mar chomhartha sa dorchadas.

Cormac continued searching, his calm demeanor a beacon in the dark.

Go tobann, d'ardaigh a mhéar.

Suddenly, he raised his finger.

"Féach, Aoife!" a dúirt sé le fonn.

"Look, Aoife!" he said eagerly.

I measc na gcarraigeacha géara, bhí rud beag ag glioscarnach faoin solas sna fuílleach láimhe gréine.

Among the sharp rocks, something small was glistening under the remaining sunlight.

D'sop an radharc ina croí é a bhaint.

The sight stirred her heart.

Bhí an heirloom aga Aoife, an slabhra beag óir, leagadh é le cumha sa mheon.

Aoife's heirloom, the small gold chain, was imbued with longing in her mind.

Nuair a phioc sí suas é, mhothú mar a bhí an t-am féin ag dul siar, ag imeacht ón am faoi bhrú.

When she picked it up, it felt as if time itself was reversing, leaving behind the pressure of the present.

D'fhéach Aoife suas agus chuir sí a lámh i lámh Chormaic.

Aoife looked up and placed her hand in Cormac's.

Agus bhí a fhios aici ná raibh sí ina haonar.

And she knew she was not alone.

Le croí lán fíor-bhuíochais, chreid sí anois i neart an tacaíocht nuair is gá.

With a heart full of true gratitude, she now believed in the strength of support when needed.

Bhí siad inár gcroí agus ní raibh an aimsir ná an farraige in ann é a chroitheadh.

They were anchored in each other's hearts, and neither the weather nor the sea could shake that.

Chualathas an ceol bog d'einíní in aice le titim na huaire.

The soft music of birds could be heard near the turning of the hour.

Bhí a fhios acu go mbíonn séasúr an earraigh ag teacht i ndiaidh an gheimhridh i gcónaí, agus i gcaoi éigin, bhí go leor dá laethannta súilíneacha fós le teacht.

They knew that spring always follows winter, and somehow, many of its sparkling days were yet to come.

Léirigh Aoife de réir sin an t-aistriú agus thug sí a croí siar le haghaidh an solas nua a osclaíonn ina saol.

Aoife embraced this transition and opened her heart to the new light that was unfolding in her life.