Posted inEmpathy
The Teenager Who Helped a Refugee Child Learn English
I was seventeen when I met Samir, and I was old enough to think I had very little to offer anyone. That summer, my school in north inner-city Dublin asked for volunteers…
Posted inEmpathy
The Teenager Who Helped a Refugee Child Learn English
I was sixteen the summer I met Sami, and I thought empathy was mostly a word adults used when they wanted teenagers to stop being selfish. I lived in Cabra, took the…
Posted inEmpathy
The Stranger Who Carried an Elderly Shopper’s Bags Every Week
I first noticed them outside the little supermarket near Phibsborough on a Thursday afternoon, the kind of damp Dublin afternoon where the sky seems to sit on your shoulders. I was working…
Posted inEmpathy
The Little Girl Who Shared Her Umbrella Every Rainy Morning
For three weeks last November, I met the same little girl every rainy morning outside the bus stop near Drumcondra. I was staying in a small room above a shop after my…
Posted inEmpathy
The Young Chef Who Cooked for Families During Hard Times
I was twenty-three when the kitchen I worked in near Temple Bar went quiet. Not peaceful quiet, but that strange kind of silence where the fridges still hummed and the stainless-steel counters…
Posted inEmpathy
The Neighbourhood That Rebuilt One Woman’s Home Together
I used to think I was invisible on my road in Stoneybatter. Not in a sad way, exactly. I knew the woman in number 14 had a terrier that barked at cyclists,…
Posted inEmpathy
The Volunteer Who Drove Cancer Patients to Hospital Every Week
I started driving cancer patients to hospital the year after my wife died. That sounds noble when I say it now, but it wasn’t noble at the time. It was survival. The…
Posted inEmpathy
The Man Who Rebuilt a Burned Playground Without Recognition
The playground burned on a Tuesday night, just after the rain had stopped and the streets around Portland Row were shining under the lamps. I remember the smell most of all, that…
Posted inEmpathy
The Child Who Waited Every Day for a Father Who Couldn’t Come Home
I was eight the winter my father stopped coming through the door at six o’clock. Before that, the sound of his key was the surest thing in our flat in Ballybough. The…
Posted inEmpathy
The Music Teacher Who Never Charged Families in Need
I met Mrs. O’Leary on a wet Tuesday evening outside the music room in Marino, when my son was nine and I was pretending not to count coins in my coat pocket.…
