From one world to another

  

In 1985, we moved to Ireland from the Mojave Desert, California.  This was a time when a flood of Irish young people were heading to America.  For some Americans to move to Ireland was a big confusing; we were an anomaly. 

 

My husband with Mary and John at Saddlebutte State Park

 in the Mojave Desert

 

As we settled in, we went to the local school where our children made friends.  First, they needed to be outfitted in the school uniform. 

This thrilled me.  I loved school uniforms—no fights in the morning about style and matching colors. 

Our three children and I went to Dunnes Store where the uniforms could be purchased inexpensively.  Every mother in the community was holding up gray slacks and light blue shirts to their squirming children.  My own squirming children submitted silently.  Except…

 

Mary playing in the woods around our home in Ireland

In moments, my four year old Mary disappeared.  I did not panic and chase around screaming her name.  I just waited and listened.

Mary had a high-pitched voice that could carry above any noise.  Soon I heard her.  She was singing the latest Celine Dion song, “Power of Love”.

Mary really irritated her brother John.

There she was, in front of a tri-fold mirror, belting out the lyrics, surrounded by amused Irish mothers, also shopping for school uniforms.

 

“…For I am your WOOOOMMMMAAAN….and you are my MAAA..AAAA..N.  Whenever you REACH for me….I’ll do all that I CAAA..AAAN!...”

 

She was on-key, I’ll give her that.

 

The Power of Love

Another daughter, Mary (who will be visiting from Switzerland in 10 days, bringing husband and grandsons) was only four years old when we moved to Ireland.  She was a sprite and not at all shy even then.

Erin, Mary, and John

When the school year started, Mary was 4.5 years old and ready to enroll in Junior Infants/pre kindergarten at New Inn School, Glanmire, Co. Cork. One of the greatest ideas of all time is school uniforms.  Pants, skirt, and vest were polyester which meant they could be washed each night, worn the next day, and then repeated.  Wore like iron, they were awesome.

We went shopping at Dunnes Store where everyone shopped thirty years ago and scouted for grey with blue shirts.  Mary ran off sprite-like and soon was found.

One thing about Mary was/is that she has a piercing and loud voice.  Anywhere she went, we could find her easily.  On this day, Mary was standing by the tri-mirror next to the changing rooms and was singing with all the gusto and joy that a four year old has.

She had ripped into a Celine Dion song "I am your lady" with chorus lyrics, as interpreted by a four-year old:

'Cause I am your lady/You are my man/ Whenever your reach for me/I'll do all that I can.

I do not believe that most Irish people had ever heard their children singing that song or singing with such passion. Dunnes was silent as Mary moved to the last lines (again as translated by a four-year old:  frightened became fighting:

We're heading for something/Somewhere I've never been/Some times I am frightened/But I'm ready to learn.

YouTube is amazing.

We drove home with school uniforms and with Mary still singing.  I just smiled. The power of love.

Note: Older daughter had a cassette tape of top music from mid-1980s. Mary sang along with her sister.  In the car, Mary started singing "Like a Virgin" by Madonna. Sigh.

P is for Power of Love

In 1985, we moved to Ireland from the Mojave Desert, California.  This was a time when a flood of Irish young people were heading to America.  For some Americans to move to Ireland was a big confusing; we were an anomaly. 

My husband with Mary and John at Saddlebutte State Park in the Mojave Desert

As we settled in, we went to the local school where our children made friends.  First, they needed to be outfitted in the school uniform. 

This thrilled me.  I loved school uniforms—no fights in the morning about style and matching colors. 

Our three children and I went to Dunnes Store where the uniforms could be purchased inexpensively.  Every mother in the community was holding up gray slacks and light blue shirts to their squirming children.  My own squirming children submitted silently.  Except…

Mary playing in the woods around our home in Ireland

In moments, my four year old Mary disappeared.  I did not panic and chase around screaming her name.  I just waited and listened.

Mary had a high-pitched voice that could carry above any noise.  Soon I heard her.  She was singing the latest Celine Dion song, “Power of Love”.

Mary really irritated her brother John.

There she was, in front of a tri-fold mirror, belting out the lyrics, surrounded by amused Irish mothers, also shopping for school uniforms.

 

“…For I am your WOOOOMMMMAAAN….and you are my MAAA..AAAA..N.  Whenever you REACH for me….I’ll do all that I CAAA..AAAN!...”

She was on-key, I’ll give her that.