Eleven years ago I was blessed with the opportunity to work for three weeks at Camp Shamrock www.campshamrock.com in the Tollymore Forest Park near Newcastle, Northern Ireland. It was one of the last things I did during my 15 month internship with the Nottingham Church of Christ in Stapleford, England and beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was the most memorable. Juli had the chance to serve at the camp the previous two years and we've both worked there together in 2002 and 2007. We arrived in Dublin last year in time for me to serve as a counselor. I wouldn't miss it! Many of our friends in Ireland were first made at camp. In fact, if it weren't for Camp Shamrock we wouldn't be living and working in Dublin right now (at least, not in any way that I can reckon).
So I'm off in 30 minutes to pick up some local lads, seven of whom I will have worked with previously through Sports Across Ireland in Ballymun, and the 18 of us (3 cars) will make our way up north. Some of the time we'll be wet, cold, hungry, and tired, but at all times we'll be having a blast and growing closer to Christ. I look forward to sharing what the Lord will have done through our week at camp. - Shay
Monday, July 11, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
The Wicklow Way - The First Day and the Last Day
My alarm went off bright and early on Monday at 5 AM. By 6:15 I was on the Dart and on my way to Bray where I caught the 185 bus to just past Enniskerry at a place called Shop River (no shop or river that I could see). My map of the Wicklow Mountains indicated that I should have been able to catch a couple of old roads over to the Wicklow Way trail and I soon discovered that the roads where indeed old. So old that an amazing amount of vegetation had grown up - much of it the pointy, sticky, and itchy variety. I decided that I'd better backtrack and head down the road where I would join up with the W.W. at a later junction.
As if my sticky incident didn't get my hike off on a bad foot, my backpack (or packpack as Ashlyn is inclined to call it) began to put stress and strain on my upper back and shoulders. I soon decided to discard an old pair of shoes I'd brought in case my cheap hiking boots (more on that later) were to get seriously wet. I left the shoes at the gate of some fancy estate and hoped that the owners might wear a size 13 and could use them while they worked on their garden. It wasn't long before I realized that I might as well put some of my other belongings into a trash bag and stash them in the woods where I could pick them up again on the way back. I recently read a travel article that stated you should always only bring half of what you think you need and as I trekked along in the morning sun, I realized that I had failed to heed this advice and needed to take a load off. I hoped that no one would see me stash my gear, but just as I emerged from the woods a Mercedes drove up and two female hikers from some other European country were dropped off to begin their day in the mountains and glens. Feeling a bit sheepish about leaving my gear in the woods (there was a sign stating that dumping could incur fines up to 1800 Euro) I quickly resumed my way up the trail before they could notice what I had done.
Now that my pack was at a more manageable weight and knowing that I was several hundred meters ahead of the Euro chicks, I began to take in the dramatic landscapes of rugged mountains and sweeping glens. I've always found energy in nature and I love to spend time in conversation with God while I walk through his creation. The W.W. provided me with just the setting and solitude I had been desiring over the past few weeks, so my God and I walked through the hills together.
After crossing the Glencree River and passing through the Crone Woods up past the Powerscourt Waterfall, I hit the exposed moorland of the Heather Deserts. I sat and enjoyed my lunch of almonds, bananas, apples, and raisins while overlooking Dublin Bay to my north, the Irish Sea to my east, and the rolling pastureland of County Wicklow to my south. To the west sat Djouce Mountain (pronounced juice) at 733 meters (or 2,400 feet). The peak of Djouce is technically off the W.W. trail, but as they've said about Everest, since it's there it's meant to be climbed. At the top I ran into another couple of Europeans (I'm guessing Dutch or German based on their accents). We took photos of each other (well, for each other) and about 5 minutes after hitting the top, I was on my way back down to the trail.
I passed over White Hill before descending into the Luggala Valley. The view of Lough Tay which sits at the bottom of the glen is one of the most dramatic I've seen in all of Ireland. The lake gets its name from the Gaelic word for hot. Trust me, there's nothing hot about this lough, but the name refers to the fact that the water never freezes in the winter due to all of the eroded peat floating throughout.
After hitting the R759 for about a kilometer, I entered into another wooded area that sits above the Luggala Valley. At this point I really began to feel the strain of the days journey. I had bought a cheap pair of hiking boots almost a year ago, but had only once worn them on a long hike. That day my feet were killing me by the end of it, so what possessed me to wear them on the W.W.? I'm not sure. But I was regretting that decision at about 1:00 yesterday afternoon. By 2:30 I had lumbered into the village of Roundwood and began my search for my B&B. My feet were absolutely throbbing from my 18 and 1/2 mile hike and I was beginning to wonder how I was going to do another several miles over the next two days.
I finally found my B&B on the south side of the village (you wouldn't have thought that it would be that hard in a village the size of Roundwood), but just my luck, the owners were not at home. So I hid my pack next to their tool shed and went back into the village to find some refreshment. While I sat sipping my drink at one of the local establishments, an older gentleman sat down next to me and asked me about my t-shirt. He had noticed the Bible verse on the back (1 John 2:24). We introduced ourselves to each other and Tom told me about how he had married and Irishwoman and moved to Roundwood from Liverpool, England. He explained how he's been involved with a spiritual renewal movement and he was interested in my faith. After telling him about our work in Ireland, I let him know about my W.W. explorations and that I was meant to be staying at a B&B on the south side of town. "Oh, that would be John and Ann's place", Tom responded. "I'll give 'em a ring for you, they're also involved in this spiritual renewal movement."
After finishing my drink and my conversation with Tom I walked back up to John and Ann's place and this time they were there to greet me at the door. I spent a long time chatting with John about genetics, D.N.A., and ancestry. John had started this conversation by telling me how all of the Bradys and Connallys in the area had been marrying each other over the past century or so. He figured it was because of a shared spark, a sort of connection passed on through their D.N.A. I quietly figured it was simply down to a reduced dating, and thereby a reduced gene pool. That same thing seems to happen in Arkansas and we Texans call it what it is, inbreeding.
I later mentioned to John that Tom had told me a little bit about the spiritual renewal movement happening in Roundwood. John explained how a few people in the village had really began to take faith seriously and were committed to re-evangelizing the area. I let him know about the work we're involved in Dublin. We wished each other well in our respective areas and I went upstairs to take a much needed shower. After chatting on the phone with Juli, I stumbled (literally) back into the village for a meal at the Roundwood Inn. The place was quaint, the staff were friendly, and my baked chicken and chips was most delicious.
After hobbling back to the room around 8:30, I began to think about how I might change my route to make the next two days more realistic. With sore feet, a sore knee, and the same old cheap hiking boots my planned 35 miles over the next two days weren't going to happen. By the time I was in bed I had decided on hiking into Laragh on Tuesday and then catching the bus back to Dublin on Wednesday. As my feet and knees continued to throb through the night, I edited that plan and decided to catch the bus to Dublin from Roundwood on Tuesday. I love to hike, but I prefer to do it when I can enjoy it and not just get through it.
So this morning I woke up, enjoyed my full Irish breakfast with John and Ann, and then caught the St. Kevin's bus back to Bray where I jumped on the Dart and before too long was back in Raheny. My tennis shoes might still be at the entrance to the estate near Shop River and my bag of belongings is somewhere out in the woods near Knockcree Hill. I don't think I'll make a special trip to retrieve either one, but the next time I'm in the area, I may see if my stuff is still there. Unless you beat me to it. - Shay
As if my sticky incident didn't get my hike off on a bad foot, my backpack (or packpack as Ashlyn is inclined to call it) began to put stress and strain on my upper back and shoulders. I soon decided to discard an old pair of shoes I'd brought in case my cheap hiking boots (more on that later) were to get seriously wet. I left the shoes at the gate of some fancy estate and hoped that the owners might wear a size 13 and could use them while they worked on their garden. It wasn't long before I realized that I might as well put some of my other belongings into a trash bag and stash them in the woods where I could pick them up again on the way back. I recently read a travel article that stated you should always only bring half of what you think you need and as I trekked along in the morning sun, I realized that I had failed to heed this advice and needed to take a load off. I hoped that no one would see me stash my gear, but just as I emerged from the woods a Mercedes drove up and two female hikers from some other European country were dropped off to begin their day in the mountains and glens. Feeling a bit sheepish about leaving my gear in the woods (there was a sign stating that dumping could incur fines up to 1800 Euro) I quickly resumed my way up the trail before they could notice what I had done.
Now that my pack was at a more manageable weight and knowing that I was several hundred meters ahead of the Euro chicks, I began to take in the dramatic landscapes of rugged mountains and sweeping glens. I've always found energy in nature and I love to spend time in conversation with God while I walk through his creation. The W.W. provided me with just the setting and solitude I had been desiring over the past few weeks, so my God and I walked through the hills together.
After crossing the Glencree River and passing through the Crone Woods up past the Powerscourt Waterfall, I hit the exposed moorland of the Heather Deserts. I sat and enjoyed my lunch of almonds, bananas, apples, and raisins while overlooking Dublin Bay to my north, the Irish Sea to my east, and the rolling pastureland of County Wicklow to my south. To the west sat Djouce Mountain (pronounced juice) at 733 meters (or 2,400 feet). The peak of Djouce is technically off the W.W. trail, but as they've said about Everest, since it's there it's meant to be climbed. At the top I ran into another couple of Europeans (I'm guessing Dutch or German based on their accents). We took photos of each other (well, for each other) and about 5 minutes after hitting the top, I was on my way back down to the trail.
I passed over White Hill before descending into the Luggala Valley. The view of Lough Tay which sits at the bottom of the glen is one of the most dramatic I've seen in all of Ireland. The lake gets its name from the Gaelic word for hot. Trust me, there's nothing hot about this lough, but the name refers to the fact that the water never freezes in the winter due to all of the eroded peat floating throughout.
After hitting the R759 for about a kilometer, I entered into another wooded area that sits above the Luggala Valley. At this point I really began to feel the strain of the days journey. I had bought a cheap pair of hiking boots almost a year ago, but had only once worn them on a long hike. That day my feet were killing me by the end of it, so what possessed me to wear them on the W.W.? I'm not sure. But I was regretting that decision at about 1:00 yesterday afternoon. By 2:30 I had lumbered into the village of Roundwood and began my search for my B&B. My feet were absolutely throbbing from my 18 and 1/2 mile hike and I was beginning to wonder how I was going to do another several miles over the next two days.
I finally found my B&B on the south side of the village (you wouldn't have thought that it would be that hard in a village the size of Roundwood), but just my luck, the owners were not at home. So I hid my pack next to their tool shed and went back into the village to find some refreshment. While I sat sipping my drink at one of the local establishments, an older gentleman sat down next to me and asked me about my t-shirt. He had noticed the Bible verse on the back (1 John 2:24). We introduced ourselves to each other and Tom told me about how he had married and Irishwoman and moved to Roundwood from Liverpool, England. He explained how he's been involved with a spiritual renewal movement and he was interested in my faith. After telling him about our work in Ireland, I let him know about my W.W. explorations and that I was meant to be staying at a B&B on the south side of town. "Oh, that would be John and Ann's place", Tom responded. "I'll give 'em a ring for you, they're also involved in this spiritual renewal movement."
After finishing my drink and my conversation with Tom I walked back up to John and Ann's place and this time they were there to greet me at the door. I spent a long time chatting with John about genetics, D.N.A., and ancestry. John had started this conversation by telling me how all of the Bradys and Connallys in the area had been marrying each other over the past century or so. He figured it was because of a shared spark, a sort of connection passed on through their D.N.A. I quietly figured it was simply down to a reduced dating, and thereby a reduced gene pool. That same thing seems to happen in Arkansas and we Texans call it what it is, inbreeding.
I later mentioned to John that Tom had told me a little bit about the spiritual renewal movement happening in Roundwood. John explained how a few people in the village had really began to take faith seriously and were committed to re-evangelizing the area. I let him know about the work we're involved in Dublin. We wished each other well in our respective areas and I went upstairs to take a much needed shower. After chatting on the phone with Juli, I stumbled (literally) back into the village for a meal at the Roundwood Inn. The place was quaint, the staff were friendly, and my baked chicken and chips was most delicious.
After hobbling back to the room around 8:30, I began to think about how I might change my route to make the next two days more realistic. With sore feet, a sore knee, and the same old cheap hiking boots my planned 35 miles over the next two days weren't going to happen. By the time I was in bed I had decided on hiking into Laragh on Tuesday and then catching the bus back to Dublin on Wednesday. As my feet and knees continued to throb through the night, I edited that plan and decided to catch the bus to Dublin from Roundwood on Tuesday. I love to hike, but I prefer to do it when I can enjoy it and not just get through it.
So this morning I woke up, enjoyed my full Irish breakfast with John and Ann, and then caught the St. Kevin's bus back to Bray where I jumped on the Dart and before too long was back in Raheny. My tennis shoes might still be at the entrance to the estate near Shop River and my bag of belongings is somewhere out in the woods near Knockcree Hill. I don't think I'll make a special trip to retrieve either one, but the next time I'm in the area, I may see if my stuff is still there. Unless you beat me to it. - Shay
Sunday, July 3, 2011
The Wicklow Way
I've always wanted to do a multiple day hill walk in Ireland or the UK. When I lived in England a dozen years ago, I never had the opportunity to do one, so when we moved to Ireland last year I told myself that I would have to do several before its all said and done. Last Thursday, Juli and Ashlyn flew to Kansas City to spend three weeks with Juli's family. So this has presented me with the perfect opportunity for a multiple day hike. I'm leaving out bright and early in the morning to trek my way through the forests, hills, mountains, and glens that are county Wicklow. Lord willing I'll be back on Wednesday evening and I'll have some stories to tell. - Shay
Monday, June 27, 2011
Climbing Croagh Patrick
This past weekend, the Smith family took a trip to County Mayo in the west of Ireland. For the second consecutive time on a trip out west, we were bombarded with wet weather. The forecast for Saturday was meant to be drier, but as we set out on a trek up Croagh Patrick http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Croagh_Patrick it became obvious that the forecast wasn't quite as accurate as we would have hoped. About 250 feet up the mountain, Juli and Ashlyn (Ashlyn has a comfortable little backpack to be carried in) headed back for the visitor's cafe at the carpark, while I was determined to make it to the top.
About an hour later I was 2500 feet above the Atlantic Ocean, but for all I knew, I may as well have been on Jupiter. The cloud cover, fog, and mist was so thick it felt like I had been hiking through a bowl of soup. My shirt and wind pants were as wet as if I had taken a swim out in Clew Bay. Needless to say, I didn't spend too long on top and quickly began my descent to the bottom. As I passed a couple of lads from Kilkenny on their way up (I had passed them on my way up earlier), they asked me if I had taken time to say my prayers on the top. I told that I had indeed offered up a prayer of thanksgiving to the Lord, but I hadn't lingered too long because of the rain.
Thankfully I made it back down with only a couple of slips and no injuries. And I was even more grateful that Juli and Ashlyn had made it down without a fall. Meanwhile, the weather back in Dublin was sunshine and 75 degrees. We may have missed one of the best days of the Dublin summer on our trip, but it was worth it to check one more place off our Irish bucket list. - Shay
About an hour later I was 2500 feet above the Atlantic Ocean, but for all I knew, I may as well have been on Jupiter. The cloud cover, fog, and mist was so thick it felt like I had been hiking through a bowl of soup. My shirt and wind pants were as wet as if I had taken a swim out in Clew Bay. Needless to say, I didn't spend too long on top and quickly began my descent to the bottom. As I passed a couple of lads from Kilkenny on their way up (I had passed them on my way up earlier), they asked me if I had taken time to say my prayers on the top. I told that I had indeed offered up a prayer of thanksgiving to the Lord, but I hadn't lingered too long because of the rain.
Thankfully I made it back down with only a couple of slips and no injuries. And I was even more grateful that Juli and Ashlyn had made it down without a fall. Meanwhile, the weather back in Dublin was sunshine and 75 degrees. We may have missed one of the best days of the Dublin summer on our trip, but it was worth it to check one more place off our Irish bucket list. - Shay
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| Beginning Croagh Patrick Trek |
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| Daddy, are you sure about this? |
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| Soupy view of the Atlantic |
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| Yes, caps must be worn! |
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| Traffic jam in Mayo |
Friday, June 24, 2011
Reflections on Colossians 3
One of the great things about worshiping Christ in the context of a small Christian community in an organic setting like your home is that you are able to have a more inclusive and participatory gathering. Often, when we meet in Balbriggan, Raheny, or Baldoyle, we'll share a discovery Bible study together. With a DBS, we all take the time to write out word for word a short text from scripture before paraphrasing it and then writing down life application statements. When the community comes together we share our reflections and the entire group is mutually encouraged to a greater understanding of God and his word and a more faithful response in our individual and corporate lives.
We've recently spent time in Colossians and I'd like to share some reflections that I gained from Paul's emphasis on our new lives lived in Christ's body. Here's my paraphrase and some of my life application from Colossians 3:12-17.
Because we've been raised with Christ to new life (vs. 1) we are a part of God's family - his chosen ones. We are loved by God and set a part for his purpose. Since we've stripped off the sinful and selfish rags of our old way of living we are to get dressed up in God's finest new clothes. We're to immerse ourselves in compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. And since we're part of community, we don't just live for ourselves - we live for others and we put up with their garbage, just as they put up with ours. Even if we rightly have an issue with a brother or sister in Christ, we are to forgive them because God knows the Lord Jesus Christ has forgiven us of so much more! We cannot do this without love. Love allows us to live in the messiness of community life because it creates melody and harmony where there was simply noise and confusion. Love unites and overcomes all of our human brokenness, so we must love above all else. And if the peace and calmness of Christ flows through our lives and the lives of the entire community we can live and function as one body. Thank God!!! Live in gratitude. May Christ's word not simply go in one ear and out the other, but may it permeate every fiber of our existence until it transforms us from the inside out. We all have the responsibility to teach and at times even rebuke and correct each other. This means that we must in humility be willing to learn from the whole community. Instruction is always a two-way street. God's wisdom arises in the context of community. And when we respond to God's acts of salvation through singing or any other kind of worship - we do it out of a gracious response to our God who has done so much for us. Whether through the Old Testament psalms, through the hymns of the ancient and modern church, or through any kind of music that puts us into contact with Christ's spiritual reality, we offer what we can to God. In fact every single aspect of our lives should be nothing less than worship in the name of the Lord Jesus out of gratitude to God the Father.
It's not enough for me to simply strip off the old layers of sin and selfishness. Full life in Christ calls me to put on a new set of clothes and these clothes don't fit without love acting as a belt to pull it all together. Love God and love neighbor. Community life is messy. Living in community has taught me that so often I am not humble, meek, or patient. Nor have I been as forgiving as I'm called to be. I need to repent. I need greater humility (seems like an oxymoron, eh?), meekness, and patience.
We've been called to one body. In that body I am to let the peace of CHRIST RULE in my heart. In that body we as a community are to allow the peace of CHRIST to RULE in our collective hearts. I need to let go of some things. I cannot be a control freak and live faithfully in Christian community. I need to trust Christ and his Spirit and his peace to work in other people's lives, just as I've seen them work in my life. I need to trust Christ's community more. I also need to make sure that I'm always open to learn from the community.
The last verse in this passage challenges me to make everything - every aspect of my life an intentional worship and missional activity. Everything I do should be infused with an understanding of Christ's Lordship and be done as an extension of Christ's mission. Everything I do should be done as a gracious response to what God had done for me in Christ. - Shay
We've recently spent time in Colossians and I'd like to share some reflections that I gained from Paul's emphasis on our new lives lived in Christ's body. Here's my paraphrase and some of my life application from Colossians 3:12-17.
Because we've been raised with Christ to new life (vs. 1) we are a part of God's family - his chosen ones. We are loved by God and set a part for his purpose. Since we've stripped off the sinful and selfish rags of our old way of living we are to get dressed up in God's finest new clothes. We're to immerse ourselves in compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. And since we're part of community, we don't just live for ourselves - we live for others and we put up with their garbage, just as they put up with ours. Even if we rightly have an issue with a brother or sister in Christ, we are to forgive them because God knows the Lord Jesus Christ has forgiven us of so much more! We cannot do this without love. Love allows us to live in the messiness of community life because it creates melody and harmony where there was simply noise and confusion. Love unites and overcomes all of our human brokenness, so we must love above all else. And if the peace and calmness of Christ flows through our lives and the lives of the entire community we can live and function as one body. Thank God!!! Live in gratitude. May Christ's word not simply go in one ear and out the other, but may it permeate every fiber of our existence until it transforms us from the inside out. We all have the responsibility to teach and at times even rebuke and correct each other. This means that we must in humility be willing to learn from the whole community. Instruction is always a two-way street. God's wisdom arises in the context of community. And when we respond to God's acts of salvation through singing or any other kind of worship - we do it out of a gracious response to our God who has done so much for us. Whether through the Old Testament psalms, through the hymns of the ancient and modern church, or through any kind of music that puts us into contact with Christ's spiritual reality, we offer what we can to God. In fact every single aspect of our lives should be nothing less than worship in the name of the Lord Jesus out of gratitude to God the Father.
It's not enough for me to simply strip off the old layers of sin and selfishness. Full life in Christ calls me to put on a new set of clothes and these clothes don't fit without love acting as a belt to pull it all together. Love God and love neighbor. Community life is messy. Living in community has taught me that so often I am not humble, meek, or patient. Nor have I been as forgiving as I'm called to be. I need to repent. I need greater humility (seems like an oxymoron, eh?), meekness, and patience.
We've been called to one body. In that body I am to let the peace of CHRIST RULE in my heart. In that body we as a community are to allow the peace of CHRIST to RULE in our collective hearts. I need to let go of some things. I cannot be a control freak and live faithfully in Christian community. I need to trust Christ and his Spirit and his peace to work in other people's lives, just as I've seen them work in my life. I need to trust Christ's community more. I also need to make sure that I'm always open to learn from the community.
The last verse in this passage challenges me to make everything - every aspect of my life an intentional worship and missional activity. Everything I do should be infused with an understanding of Christ's Lordship and be done as an extension of Christ's mission. Everything I do should be done as a gracious response to what God had done for me in Christ. - Shay
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Nearly a Year In
I should probably wait for another two weeks to post this, but I just realized that Juli, Ashlyn, & I have lived in Dublin for 50 weeks. Two weeks short of a year and the North Dublin Smith family couldn't be any happier. By far, this has been the fastest year of my life. It seems like yesterday that we were selling our possessions, packing up our stuff, saying goodbye to our loved ones in Colorado, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, and Kansas, and boarding a plane for the adventure of a lifetime. Now, here we are nearly a year in.
A lot of things have happened in these 12 short months. We've met many new friends, volunteered hundreds of hours, launched two new (small) worshiping communities on the north side of the city, welcomed a new brother into the Christian family, shared our faith with many who are seeking God, mentored fellow brothers and sisters into stronger leadership roles, and are in the process of laying the foundation for further opportunities. The Spirit is at work in this place and we are simply joining God in the work where it's already happening.
Over the next 50 weeks I'll continue to update this blog with stories of life and faith and hopefully I can convince Juli to write a few too or to at least post a few pictures! - Shay
A lot of things have happened in these 12 short months. We've met many new friends, volunteered hundreds of hours, launched two new (small) worshiping communities on the north side of the city, welcomed a new brother into the Christian family, shared our faith with many who are seeking God, mentored fellow brothers and sisters into stronger leadership roles, and are in the process of laying the foundation for further opportunities. The Spirit is at work in this place and we are simply joining God in the work where it's already happening.
Over the next 50 weeks I'll continue to update this blog with stories of life and faith and hopefully I can convince Juli to write a few too or to at least post a few pictures! - Shay
Monday, May 23, 2011
One of 40 Million
They say that 40 million Americans trace at least some of their ancestry back to Ireland. I'm one of 'em. Juli (and obviously Ashlyn) are two more of them. It wasn't until a few years ago that Barack Obama (or is it O'Bama?) discovered that he has Irish roots as his great, great, great grandfather Falmouth Kearney originated from the small town of Moneygall in county Offaly. Today my President came home and met some of his distant cousins including his 8th cousin Henry Healy (or is it Henry the VIII?).
A few years back my first cousin, Johnny Smith traced my dad's side of the family back to Ireland through at least two lines. One of my ancestors, Matthew Wallace came from Raphoe, in county Donegal. Another one of my ancestors, John Smith (also my dad's name - quite original, eh?) came from the north of Ireland. I've not located the exact location of John Smith's origins, but I have been to Raphoe (a tiny little village between Donegal town and Derry) a couple of times and spent the night there in a quaint little B&B.
Before President Obama spoke to a throng of thousands upon thousands of enthusiastic Irish well wishers, Taoiseach Enda Kenny introduced him to the crowd and then invited the other 39,999,999 to follow the path of their President back home to the emerald isle. Based on our conversation 3 months ago in Galway, Taoiseach Kenny should have remembered that he only need invite 39,999,997 because 3 of them are already here. - Shay
A few years back my first cousin, Johnny Smith traced my dad's side of the family back to Ireland through at least two lines. One of my ancestors, Matthew Wallace came from Raphoe, in county Donegal. Another one of my ancestors, John Smith (also my dad's name - quite original, eh?) came from the north of Ireland. I've not located the exact location of John Smith's origins, but I have been to Raphoe (a tiny little village between Donegal town and Derry) a couple of times and spent the night there in a quaint little B&B.
Before President Obama spoke to a throng of thousands upon thousands of enthusiastic Irish well wishers, Taoiseach Enda Kenny introduced him to the crowd and then invited the other 39,999,999 to follow the path of their President back home to the emerald isle. Based on our conversation 3 months ago in Galway, Taoiseach Kenny should have remembered that he only need invite 39,999,997 because 3 of them are already here. - Shay
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