My mom grew up in a tiny village in County Mayo, Ireland on a farm with no running water or telephone.  They milked the cows, churned the butter, cut the turf from the bog to burn for heat, and fed the chickens who gave them eggs. They didn’t have a lot of money but they had a dictionary and lots of love.  My grandma valued education although she didn’t get the chance herself, and she rode her bike six miles to a convent school in another town to register my mom to attend classes there after she graduated from the local school house.  My mom’s brothers sent money home while working in England for my mom to go to that school.  I am in awe of my grandma for knowing to do this and for making it happen.   Continue reading