Acting was rewarding, but in my heart I knew teaching was a more worthwhile and stable livelihood, especially when my wife and I had one child and another on the way1.
One evening, as we talked enviously about our friends’ travels, we determined that if we were ever to see anything other than our own little part of the world, we’d have to do it then.
Serendipitously2, we were both offered handsome fees for a two-day acting job—in Ireland. So, in the summer of 1961, my wife, our 1-year-old daughter, and I landed in Eire3. We bought
bicycles in Limerick and set off on a 1,500-mile journey, drying diapers on our handlebars4.
One morning, Blarney Castle’s great dark form seemed to spring out of the lush, glowing green Irish mist.5 That was reason enough to turn off the road and join the line of visitors waiting to climb the castle’s ancient, narrow stairs.
Once outside on the battlements, the guide held our ankles as we grabbed the iron support bars and leaned out to kiss the stone that would give us all the “gift of the gab.”6
But to me, the most interesting part of the castle was the great hall and kitchen where our enthusiastic and puckish7 guide led us.
In extravagant terms that silenced any doubts anyone might have had that he hadn’t kissed the stone, the guide told us of the great banquets that had been held in the hall.8 He told us about how the powerful had celebrated Celtic conquests9 and about the nights of revelry10 and song that had taken place under the smoky black beams.
I was enthralled11 until I began to really look around. I suddenly blurted out12 “I don’t mean to question your accuracy, but I simply don’t see how a kitchen this size could possibly have been large enough to prepare meals for such a great number of people.”
His answer silenced me: “That’s probably because you’re standing in the fireplace13!”
In those days, few Americans backpacked14 or biked around Britain and Ireland, and even fewer did it with an infant15. Often as we arrived in a village, someone would be in the street waving us in for “a cuppa16. ” We were always delighted for a rest and chat.
After biking through Ireland, Wales, and England, we stopped for two weeks in Edinburgh.
When we visited Holyrood House17, we didn’t know tickets were required to go upstairs to the royal apartments. We were looking at the first-floor exhibits when the guide invited everyone to “step this way to view the royal apartments. Please have your tickets ready.”
I was abashed18 and explained if we had enough money, I’d have happily paid, but we were traveling by bicycles and couldn’t afford even the modest cost19.
The man waved to us to hurry along.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I said. “I honestly didn’t know tickets were required, and we don’t have any.”
He smiled, touched my shoulder and simply said: “Come along!”
Many miles later, night fell, and the map showed we were miles from shelter20. I saw a light, thought of21 our little daughter and my wife’s fatigue. I swallowed my pride.
A tiny, white-haired lady opened the door cautiously22.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry to bother you. Is there anywhere near that does bed and breakfast?”
“No, ye’ll23 not find one for miles.”
“I see,” I said. Maybe my voice trembled. “Could you find room for my wife and little daughter? Don’t mind about me, I have a bedroll24 and can sleep outside.”
“Fetch them” she said kindly. “The kettle’s on.” She fed us, gave us all beds, cuddling25 our daughter, Kimberly, as her own.
In the morning, as we gathered our packs and started to set off, I offered money for our food and lodging26.
She refused. “You and your wife and bairn27 have brought joy to this house. It’s I who should pay you.” Then she added, “As you travel on, remember this: When ye have nowhere to go, find the poorest house. They will always take you in, because they know what it is to need.”
Since we bought our home many years ago, that lady’s kindness and wise words have resounded28 often. I’ve lost count of how many people we have sheltered—sometimes for a few days, sometimes for months. One needn’t have the poorest house, but even if it is, it becomes a rich one when shared with someone in need.
Notes: 1. another on the way另一个孩子即将出生
2. serendipitously 侥幸地
3. Eire (爱尔兰语) 爱尔兰
4. drying diapers on our handlebars让尿布在自行车车把上风干
5. 本句意为：一天早上，布拉尼城堡雄伟的黑色轮廓好像一下子从爱尔兰常有的泛着绿光的晨雾中冒出。
6. 本句意为：一到外面的城垛上，导游便扶着我们的脚踝，好让我们抓住铁护栏，伸出身子去亲吻给我们“口才”的石头。battlement碉堡上的城垛
7. puckish 淘气的，顽皮的
8. 本句意为：导游用夸张的语言告诉我们大厅里曾举行过的盛大宴会，他的话能使任何可能对他是否亲吻过那石头产生疑问的人都保持沉默。
9. Celtic conquest 凯尔特人的征服
10. revelry 狂欢
11. enthral 迷醉
12. blurt out不假思索地脱口而出
13. fireplace壁炉
14. backpack一种很大的双肩背大背包，内可装野营必需品，在这里用作动词
15. infant婴儿, 幼儿
16. a cuppa 一杯茶
17. Holyrood House荷理路德皇宫
18. abashed 不安的, 窘迫的
19. modest cost 最低开销
20. shelter 庇护所，住所
21. think of 想到
22. cautiously 谨慎地
23. ye 你
24. bedroll 铺盖卷
25. cuddle 拥抱
26. lodging寄宿
27. bairn 小孩
28. resound 回响
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