I lár an tsamhraidh, bhí grian ag taitneamh go geal ar Pháirc Chill na Screachóige.

In the middle of the summer, the sun was shining brightly on Páirc Chill na Screachóige.

Bhí Saoirse, Finbar, agus Niamh ag siúl isteach san ionad gleoite seo, lán le caisleáin bheaga agus tithe sí draíochta.

Saoirse, Finbar, and Niamh were walking into this charming place, full of small castles and magical fairy houses.

Ba mhian le Saoirse bheith mar shár-champeán mionghalf.

Saoirse wanted to be a mini-golf champion.

Bhí rud amháin áfach a chuir imní uirthi: ialtóg mhíosúil na toirtíní — an t-iora.

However, there was one thing that worried her: the monthly nuisance of the tarts — the squirrel.

Bhí Saoirse, le clubán ina lámh, réidh chun taispeántas a thabhairt dá cairde.

Saoirse, with a club in her hand, was ready to give a demonstration to her friends.

"Ta súil agam nach mbuailfidh mé leis an iora," a dúirt sí go bídeach.

"I hope I don't run into the squirrel," she said quietly.

Thosaigh an cluiche agus d’éirigh go hiontach le Saoirse arís agus arís eile.

The game started, and Saoirse succeeded wonderfully over and over again.

Ach, ní fada go mbeadh an chinniúint ag gáire.

But it wouldn't be long before fate would laugh.

Bhí Finbar ag dul chun cinn nuair a chonaic sé an iora ag spaisteoireacht thart.

Finbar was making progress when he saw the squirrel strolling around.

"Feach isteach ansin," ar sé ag gáire, "tá cara nua againn!

"Look over there," he said, laughing, "we have a new friend!"

" Ach níor stop an t-iora ansin.

But the squirrel didn't stop there.

Thosaigh sé ag goid gach liathróid beag a chasfaí ina threo, ag teitheadh leo go dtína nead sa chrann.

It began stealing every little ball that rolled its way, fleeing with them to its nest in the tree.

Bhí Saoirse i déistin.

Saoirse was in disgust.

Bhí sé faoi dheireadh an chluiche, nuair a tharla rud aisteach.

It was near the end of the game when something strange happened.

Bhí an iora ag bun na crainn, ag scaoileadh na liathróidí go léir a bhí ag carnadh uaidh.

The squirrel was at the base of the tree, releasing all the balls it had been hoarding.

Chuaigh na liathróidí ar fud an deiridh-poll.

The balls scattered all over the final hole.

Tharla sé gasta, eascraigh gigiúla ó Niamh agus Finbar.

It happened quickly, prompting giggles from Niamh and Finbar.

Ansin, d'fhéach Saoirse thart, ghlac sí an nóiméad.

Then, Saoirse looked around, and she took the moment.

"Tá deireadh an lae níos fearr le bheith spraoiúil," ar sí le gáire.

"The end of the day is better when it's fun," she said with a laugh.

Chuir Finbar agus Niamh lámha timpeall ar a guaillí, gach duine ag aontú nach raibh sé tábhachtach cé a bhuaigh.

Finbar and Niamh put their arms around her shoulders, all agreeing that it didn't matter who won.

Bhí a spraoi féin ag an iora díreach mar a bhí acu.

The squirrel had its own fun just as they did.

Ba í an bua a bhí ann do dhaoine uilig - bua milis.

It was a win for everyone - a sweet victory.

Chríochnaigh siad an lá le huachtar reoite fuar, ag breathnú amach ar an bpáirc álainn, a fhios a bheith acu nach mbeadh rian imní eile ar a n-iora beag dána.

They ended the day with cold ice cream, looking out at the beautiful park, knowing that their cheeky little squirrel wouldn't cause any more worries.