It was night, and the snow was falling, when there was a knocking at the front door of the house. The elderly couple had just sat down in the cosiness of the kitchen to have dinner.

Bha an oidhche ann, agus i a’ cur sneachda, nuair a bha gnogadh ann air doras-aghaidh an taighe. Bha an t-seann càraid dìreach air suidhe sìos ann an seasgaireachd a’ chidsin gus an dìnnear a ghabhail.

The weak dawn light was filtering through the trees of the wood to the clearing where the fox and the pheasant were in conference. The fox hadn’t eaten for two days – he was trying to put thoughts of his intense hunger to one side.

Bha solas fann na maidne a’ tighinn tro chraobhan na coille chun an àite far an robh an sionnach agus an easag ri còmhradh. Cha robh an sionnach air biadh a ghabhail fad dà latha – bha e a’ feuchainn ris an t-acras aige a chur an dara taobh.

The crisis finally came as he stood in the supermarket car park. He became increasingly unsettled by the movement of people and cars all around him.

Thàinig cùisean gu àirde fhad ’s a bha e na sheasamh ann am pàirc-chàraichean na mòr-bhùtha. Bha e a’ sìor fhàs anshocrach leis na bha de dhaoine agus de chàraichean a’ gluasad ceithir timcheall air.

Ò rùn-dìomhair mòr, agus sàcramaid mhìorbhaileach gum b’ iad na beòthaichean a chunnaic an Tighearna mar leanabh, na laighe ann am prasaich!

‘If there’s a particular prize you desire in life, Graham, you must seize it. If you wanted to be a surgeon, for example, you’d have to put all other considerations to one side for a few years.’

‘Ma tha thu a’ miannachadh duais àraidh anns a’ bheatha seo, a Ghreum, feumaidh tu grèim a ghabhail oirre. Nam biodh tu ag iarraidh a bhith nad lannsair, mar eisimplier, dh’fheumadh tu rudan eile a chur an dara taobh airson bliadhna no dhà.’

It’s an honour for me to say a few words about our dear departed friend – Hedgehog. Hedgehog was born and raised in the birch wood and that was where he found peace and contentment all his life.

Tha e na urram dhomh facal no dhà a ràdh air ar caraid chòir nach maireann – Gràineag. Rugadh agus thogadh Gràineag anns a’ choille-bheithe agus b’ ann an sin a gheibheadh e fois agus suaimhneas fad a bheatha.

‘Tell me a story, Pa.’

It was early in the afternoon, but 3 year-old Eve was pretending it was time for her to go to bed.

‘Innsibh dhomh sgeulachd, a Sheanair.’

Bha e tràth san fheasgar ach bha Eubha, trì bliadhna a dh’aois, a’ leigeil oirre gun robh an t-àm ann dhi a dhol don leabaidh.

This is the second epigraph of the novel, ‘An Ròs a Leigheas’. But what, or who, is the Rose of Sharon?

Is e seo dara ro-sgrìobhadh na nobhail, An Ròs a Leigheas. Ach dè, no cò, a bha ann an Ròs o Sharon?

No man can say, no man remember, how many uses there are for Oil of Roses as a cure for mankind’s ailments. Walahfrid Strabo (808 – 849)

These words appear as the first epigraph in the novel An Ròs a Leigheas (The Healing Rose).

No man can say, no man remember, how many uses there are for Oil of Roses as a cure for mankind’s ailments. Walahfrid Strabo (808 – 849)

Tha na faclan seo a’ nochdadh mar a’ chiad ro-sgrìobhadh anns an nobhail, An Ròs a Leigheas.

At first, he didn’t know how to cope with the heartbreak. On the morning train and at the office, people were engaged in their work as usual – apparently, everything was as it should be.

Aig an toiseach, cha robh fios aige ciamar a dhèiligeadh e ris a’ bhriseadh-cridhe. Air an trèana sa mhadainn agus anns an oifis, bha na daoine an sàs anns an obair aca mar as àbhaist – a rèir coltais, bha a h-uile càil a’ dol mar bu chòir.