Primary Level Commended

Far from Home

Object No. 81 Empty cooking pot, nineteenth century
National Museum of Ireland - Country Life

I rose earlier that morning,

Not knowing the troubles I would overcome,

For it was the day of my emigration,

That feared day had begun.


I sat staring into the empty pot by the fire

Remembering, I had just turned fifteen.

My mother awoke me from my daydream

Saying “Lá breithe Shona, mo ghrá, a Chaitlín”.


It put a lump in my throat

Hearing my mother’s soft words,

Wondering, was that the last time

They’d ever be heard.


As we made our way to Cóbh,

The place where I would say my goodbyes,

I thought of all the memories,

I was leaving behind.


And now I’m departing,

From my beloved country,

Saying my farewells

To my friends and family.


I’m standing in New York now

Not knowing how I’ll cope,

For my heart is full of sadness

But my pot is filled with hope.

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