by BJ Hoff
The Seanchai straightened, drawing himself up as tall as possible on the crutches that supported him. His eyes seemed to hold a sea of ancient sorrows as he looked out upon the people pressing closer to hear:
“‘Tell your children,’ our God said. ‘Let your children tell their children, and their children another generation. Tell them a nation has come up against my land, powerful and without number. Its teeth are lions’ teeth, and it has the fangs of a lioness. Tell them my fields are laid waste, the ground mourns, the grain is destroyed.’ Tell them.”
The great voice quieted, and his listeners strained not to miss a word:
“Tell your children who they are, where they came from, what they mean to you—and to their God. Don’t let them forget that they are Irish, yes, or Irish-American—but neither let them forget that they are God’s.” He paused. “Peace will never dawn in Ireland until the love of God finally dawns in our hearts.”
There was much flag-waving and cheering, much weeping as well. The Seanchai stood quietly, his eyes going over the crowd as if to take in each individual face, while the boys with the shamrock banners sang “My Country ’Tis of Thee,” followed by “Let Erin Remember.”
Tears tracked the faces of those standing closest to the platform as Morgan Fitzgerald braced himself on his crutches and began to strum the ancient-looking harp placed in his arms by the black man. It was an old song he gave them—“The Minstrel Boy”—a song by Tommy Moore that was said to wring tears from the thorn bushes. And as Fitzgerald sang it through, the few dry eyes left in the crowd began to cloud with tears.
After the Seanchai and his family had embraced their friends in tearful farewells and walked away to board their ship, some claimed they could still hear the old song echo across the harbor, sounding among the big packets arriving from foreign lands and the ships sailing out, bound for distant countries….
“Land of song!” said the warrior bard,
“Though all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!”
A Note from the Author
When I first began to research the idea for the first book in this series, Song of the Silent Harp, I discovered a strong religious thread throughout the history of Ireland. I hope I have communicated to my readers a clearer understanding of how Christianity influenced the lives of some of America’s Irish ancestors.
During those years of study and writing, I became aware that it is virtually impossible to separate the past from the present. The struggles and successes, the trials and triumphs of our forebears, make up not only a rich heritage but also contribute in immeasurable ways to what we—and our world—are today. Like young Daniel Kavanagh, I believe that, from God’s perspective, yesterday, today, and tomorrow are one vast panorama, a continuing epic which our Creator views in its entirety, from the dawn of time through the present to eternity.
Further, history does, indeed, repeat itself. Most experiences of the past continue to happen. The horrors of famine and hopelessness that surround many characters in The Emerald Ballad still exist. Month after month, year after year, the innocent victims of war, disaster, political indifference, and oppression go on suffering and dying, just as they did in Ireland during the Great Famine.
Government programs and private charities cannot begin to meet the escalating demand for worldwide assistance. I believe the Christian church should be at the very front of international rescue operations, for it is the church that bears the responsibility—and the privilege—of giving love to a world that needs it.
I invite you to join me in finding practical ways to help. There are many organizations that provide an opportunity to put faith and love into action. One person does make a difference.
BJ Hoff
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