Trad session at Batt’s Bar Duck & Swan Night
Graveyard’s Collection
Envelopes are being distributed throughout the parish at present. They can be dropped into the Community Council Office or to Athea Credit Union for collection.
CELTIC BROTHERS
CHRISTMAS CONCERT
The very popular singing family group Celtic Brothers, formerly known as the Willoughby Brothers will give a Christmas Concert in Our Lady of the Assumption Church, Abbeyfeale on Sunday, December 11. The concert will begin at 7.30pm. All funds raised at this concert will go towards St. Ita’s Hall, Abbeyfeale Parish Resource Centre. Tickets for the concert are on sale in Abbeyfeale and are also available at The Zip Yard in Newcastle West, Greaney’s in Ardagh, The Parish Office Foynes, Collins Shop Athea, Buckley’s Devon Road, The Community Shop, Tournafulla, and at the Post Office in Templeglantine.
Tickets can also be booked by ringing 089 – 4314765.
St. Bartholomew’s Church Athea
Mass Intentions next weekend Sun Dec 11th at 11am
Mary Larkin. Ellen Tierney. Bob Guiry & Kitty Hough. Tom & Mary White (Knocknagorna).
Paudie Mulvihill. John O’Connell and his sons William & John.
Ministers of the Word Ministers of the Eucharist
Patsy Hayes & Maireád O’Donovan Mary Dalton & Mary Sheahan
Masses this week
Tuesday 9.30am followed by Eucharistic Adoration and Devine Mercy Chaplet.
Thursday Dec 8th Feast of the Immaculate Conception 11am –
Mass intention Julie & Patsy Kelly.
Friday Dec 9th 7pm: Memorial Mass for Jack Mahony, formally of Templeathea and recently deceased in Australia.
All masses are streamed live on https://www,churchservices.tv/athea
Baptisms this month on the third Sunday Dec 18th – please book with the parish office.
Parish Office: Mon/Wed/Fri 11am-1pm. Call 087-3331459.
Email [email protected]
The Way I See It
By Domhnall de Barra
As I write, the weather people are predicting a cold snap from the middle of the week on. To the most of us it will be a minor annoyance as our houses are well heated and we have plenty of clothes to protect us from the worst of the elements but spare a thought for the many who do not have homes of their own, some who are living on the streets, sleeping in doorways and alleys with just the minimum of covering to protect them. Some are homeless by choice but there are a lot of people out there who once lived in relative comfort but who, for whatever reason, fell upon hard times and couldn’t afford to make the payments on their homes. It is a crying shame that, in this day and age with a country as prosperous as ours, we cannot house all our people. There should be accommodation available for anyone who needs it and it could be done if the will was there. How is it we can suddenly find places for thousands of asylum seekers, and rightly so, and we still have so many homeless Irish. I know all about the crash that caused house building to stop but that is only part of the story. House building is now so bogged down in red tape that it takes ages to even get off the ground. I built my house in the middle of the 1970s but if I was to forward those plans today they would be turned down even though that house, at the time, was seen as a vast improvement on those that went before. Myself and Noreen have been very happy raising our family in that house and, we did make some improvements along the way such as cavity and attic insulation and better windows and doors. Some of the homeless today would be very glad of it if they had it and wouldn’t it be better to have a house that maybe wasn’t up to all the modern standards but was still able to provide adequate shelter. We have now reached a situation where the price of housing is beyond most people’s budgets mainly due to all the extra regulations. Local authorities should build houses like they did in the last century; small simple dwellings that would offer people a foot on the ladder or allow them to rent at an affordable rate. It should be run by the government and not left to private developers who have just profit in mind as they have to if they are to survive. In the past, council estates were a part of every town and village and nobody was left homeless. It is time we returned to those days and put people and their needs at the top of the agenda. In the meantime every effort should be made to help those less fortunate who, this week, literally find themselves out in the cold.
Then there are the people who have lost their homes due to their landlord selling off the property and no other house being available.. This is a huge problem and there are those who call for a ban on evictions. Landlords have got a bad name in recent times but it isn’t always justified. Some tenants don’t look after the property they are renting and leave the place in a state of bad repair while others don’t pay their rent on time and there is very little the landlord can do about it. I heard of a case recently where the court granted an eviction order to a bank and it was sad to hear that it was a husband, wife and two children that were involved but then it was revealed that they had made no attempt to pay off any of the mortgage for 10 years. That kind of behaviour cannot be tolerated and we need to have a system that is fair to both owner and tenant or borrower. These are but a small minority and the vast majority of homeless people are in the situation through no fault of their own and they deserve all the help thy can get.
This was the time of year, long ago, when people started getting ready for Christmas. There were big events to look forward to and prepare for: the Christmas shopping, midnight Mass, the Christmas dinner, the wrenboys and lads coming home for the holidays. I say the “lads” because children, male and female, were always referred to as the “lads”. Back in the middle of the last century there was hardly a house in the parish that was not affected by emigration. The vast majority went to England and many of those made Christmas there annual holiday and came home. There was great excitement and anticipation among the whole family as Christmas approached and the day of the homecoming got nearer. When we were young we were in awe of them with their modern fashionable clothes, shiny shoes and the latest haircuts. they also had something we didn’t have; money in their pockets. We thought they were millionaires as they flashed the cash in the local pubs so it was no wonder that we couldn’t wait to go abroad ourselves and be like them. They played a huge part in the development of this country because most of them sent part of their wages every week to keep the home fires burning. This was very important in really hard times and helped those at home to improve their lives. Their presence at Christmas made a huge difference to the family and the local wider community. There are still a few who come for Christmas but they are now just like ourselves, as a matter of fact we might be doing better than they are. I do miss the excitement of the old days and the good feel factor of Christmas. It wasn’t all about expensive presents and plastic decorations, it was more about family togetherness and a shared love that kept us going when we didn’t have much in the material sense.
ATHEA
When I was just a little boy, many moons ago
I listened to my Father talk in accents soft and low
We sat together by the fire while wild winds howled outside
He talked about his birthplace, his eyes aglow with pride.
Ireland is a lovely land with mountains fine and grand
Rushing streams and Fairy Glens and miles of golden sand
Take the place where I was born where wild birds sing all day
It lies beyond the mountains, Son, it’s name is Sweet Athea.
In Winter when the snowflakes fall and all the world is white
Moonbeams dance their magic reels to flood the world in light.
Night birds screech their lonely calls from moorland far away
Winter is an awesome sight in the place I called Athea.
Daisies peeping from the ground, hedgerows turning green
April showers in shady bowers, meadows washed and clean
Flashing sleans out in the bog, lovely cups of tay
Springtime was a magic time in the place they called Athea.
All this happened long ago when I was just a boy
My Father? He is resting now in that valley way up high
No more I’ll sit beside the fire or perch upon his knee
Or hear his soft voice talking of the place he called Athea.
One day when my ramblings o’er and I have had my fill
I’ll build a home of wood and stone upon a high, high hill
I’ll gaze across my Father’s land where wild birds sing all day
In soft Summer rain I’ll shout his name in his Birthday Place, Sweet Athea.
Knockanare Exile