only last week that I had a couple of good
visits - though too short - with two Irish
women, while still in Dublin. Sarah came
over to where I was staying, with her little
son Luke, who sat happily on my lap in the
kitchen while his Mum grabbed a bite to
eat. Our visit was way too short, because
I had made plans to meet Abigail in town,
and Sarah had been held up in her arrival.
Abigail and I met in a very cool little
restaurant, and I had a late lunch while we
visited. These are women who I know
from our workshops, and we don't really
get time to visit properly while at
Dunderry. It was so good to spend time
together.
It was while I was on my way home
from being with Abigail that I ran
into a very small demonstration,
protesting the deaths by Israeli
attacks on Palestine.
I was stopped in my tracks when
the people involved began to lie
down on the street, some of them
wearing t-shirts splattered with
red paint, holding signs with the
names of people who had been
killed. Then one of the women
sat and read the names and ages
of the people who had died, just
in the last two days. I was
riveted by hearing names and
ages, which somehow made the
whole thing much more personal.
Especially hearing the children's
names. And seeing two kids,
lying with their eyes closed, very
still - it was hard to stay, but I
felt I had to.
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