She started working when she was 13 and worked through school and college.
In the 80's she left Ireland for London.
She was offered three jobs in one day and didn't know which one to choose.
London felt like a magical place where anyone who wanted a job could find one.
She came home to Ireland when she was pregnant.
The marriage did not survive the move.
She lost her home.
She was on her own with a beautiful little girl.
She found a house for rent and signed a lease.
She began to make a new life for herself and her daughter.
She thought the worst was over.
Xmas was coming and her lease was almost up.
Her landlord notified her that the rent was going up.
She could not pay the rent and buy food as well.
She had no savings left.
She sold her furniture to try to raise enough money for the deposit on a new place.
But it was not enough.
She contacted the homeless hostel but their rooms were full.
In desperation she contacted the Vincent de Paul-
She cried when they came to tell her that they would help her to find a new place to live.
That woman was me.
I did not grow up imagining homelessness would be part of my future.
But for the intervention of the Vincent de Paul, my little girl and I would have been on the street.
Money is tight again this year for most of us.
But maybe you have blankets or sleeping bags you can hand into your local Vincent de Paul- shop.
Or maybe you have time that you can give to a local soup-run....
Whatever you can do, please do it.
Do it for the women and children who are no different from me (or you) except that they have no home this Christmas.
If my small granny could see me now
An afternoon among the women poem
Growing up in a white world
When people say genealogy is boring
Anger and Truth
Where do you come from?
The House on an Irish Hillside book review
Mammies for Mariage Equality
Aw go on, say YES
Homeless in Ireland
When wide sky opens poem
I love my work
Celtic New Year
This small house
Rhythm & Rest poem
The Hidden Self
The Lonely Road
Kerry Pride 2013
Letting the Light in after Loss
Letting go is hard
Pick up the phone
Her name was not Magdalene
Do what you love doing!
My small granny
Praise the child and boil the dishcloths
My invisible brother Michael
I don't want to be Irish anymore
Alone on Valentine's Day
I love my country but I am not blind
Truth no. 2
How we tell the Truth
From Clare to here
Mother's Day is bittersweet
I will not be part of that
No Blacks No Dogs No Irish
Thank you for the days
Baby Marion Howe
My Irish Identity
When my Mam was dying
Violence against women
Take back your power
Draw the line
My small granny and other stories