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Preface
Why write a book about one good woman, Margaret Jean Dineen? I have met so many outstanding women in my life and there are many more whom I will never meet but whose lives deserve the greatest praise. Nevertheless, I feel urged to undertake this book. I wish to share with you my boundless admiration and everlasting love for this woman, who also happens to be my mother, praise the Lord. I have been a little saddened by the knowledge that some people do not favour this publication. I have had to weigh this against the good of putting this story in the public arena. It seems to me that the life story of this person has a value that merits my doing this. So in this spirit and for the glory of God, whose work of art she is, in a special way, I offer it to all, in the hope that it will do good and that you too may be enriched and inspired by the life she lived; a life which touched the lives of many but whose inner truth was truly a life hidden with Christ in God. Maura Dineen, 2011
Saint Marys
We remember old Saint Marys Many stories they are told Of years of education Of brave lads & of bold And the winding hill we climbed each day Beginning on life’s path With thoughts of Bean Uí Dhuinnín God bless her golden heart.
And we started out on dreams then That seemed so far away And crossed the many bridges That leads us to today As we sing of alma mater Whether near or far from home And live again the memories of St. Marys.
Young men came from many miles To learn her precious code The Gaeilge, French & Latin And histories of old And when lads didn’t meet up To standards set on high A little kind persuasion Forced them into line.
We recall the handball alley And the games we used to play Where many scores were settled At the end of every day As we climbed the hill up in the field That overlooks the town We talked about horizons And what would the future hold
Now men have strayed to foreign shores And men have stayed at home Some in search of fortune And some out seeking souls But a bond stands there uniting them Across the land and sea From roots grown in the memories of St. Marys
The days of black & amber Still linger in our minds And tours we made to other schools When we sung our party rhymes But the games that stand out best of all And hold a place in time Were those played round the walls of old St. Marys.
The early morning cigarette The odd curse & the swear The bubble gum & the races run For leader down the stairs And thoughts of fair young maidens On a hill too far away The Angelus as Ghaeilge A part of daily prayer.
Words, Music & Lyrics by ROB/ Ruaskin (1987) O’Donovan Brothers, Ballyduvane |
One Woman
In Memory of the Late Margaret Dineen
Authorised, Edited and Managed By Maura Dineen & Coiste Chuimhneacháin Choláiste Muire Pádraig Ó Callanáin, Traolach Ó Donnabháin & Mícheál Ó Ríogáin
Price:…… € 16.00
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Margaret Jean Connaughton |
“She founded the school when secondary education was a restricted right, when men like Donagh O’Malley had not even appeared on the educational horizon.”
The Late John Hayes N.T. |