“The voices of our ancestors awake when our search for them begins. Most often we feel their voices – in our minds and in our hearts – as research ideas, promptings, and intuitions on where to find them. Yet sometimes, as our hearts turn toward theirs, their heaven-sent communications can be heard with our earthly ears. These voices are the evidence of their hearts having turned towards ours.”

-Geoff Rasmussen, Kindred Voices

There were subtle signs over the years, that my ancestors were reaching out to me. I mostly ignored them, thinking they were just coincidences. However, in 2008 that changed. I was preparing a lecture entitled “Gaelic Songs of Loss and Longing” when the phone rang. It was a former student with an interesting proposition. She wanted to know if she could hire me as a tour guide. She longed to visit the island of Gigha, home to her MacNeil ancestors, followed by celebrating Easter on the island of Iona.

Iona is a tiny island that sits in the Atlantic, on the west coast of Scotland. It is home to a small community, as well as a renowned abbey that was built in the Middle Ages. It has been a centre of learning and spirituality since the 6th century.

We arrived a few days before Easter. While staying in a Catholic retreat house, I discovered that the priest in residence, as well as three of the guests, had close connections with Donegal, in the west of Ireland. Donegal is part of what is known as the Gaeltacht, or heartland of the Gael. Due to my passionate connection with the language of the Gael, I have always felt drawn to my Donegal ancestors.

On the morning of Easter Sunday, we gathered to celebrate Mass in St. Michael’s Chapel. It was being said by the priest I had met at the B&B I asked for permission to sing a Gaelic blessing at the end of the celebration. He enthusiastically agreed.

When the time came, I sang a blessing from the eminent folklore collection, Carmina Gadelica. I had set it to music many years earlier. When I sang the last note, I felt an unexpected surge of emotion. I had been encouraged to share these songs and blessings for nearly two decades. Yet, it had never occurred to me, until that moment, that this calling was of monumental importance.
As I sat pondering these thoughts, one of the members of the congregation approached me. He explained that listening to the prayer had brought him to tears. What’s more, he had never expected to hear it in the Gaelic language. Noting his Irish accent, I discovered that he was from Donegal.

The story doesn’t end there. When I returned home to Glengarry, Canada, I told my Father the story. He was writing a column for our local paper and he suggested I write an article about what had transpired. I decided to give a little background before telling the story, so I explained that St. Columba had founded a monastery on Iona, in the 6th century. While doing my research, I was reminded that he too was from Donegal.

A few weeks ago, I was telling this story to a group of students at a Gaelic song workshop. One of the participants asked me how the connection with my ancestors impacts my life. I often get tongue tied when asked questions which require such an involved answer.

However, the Iona story suddenly came to me. After sharing it with the group, the young woman thanked me, then explained, that she too, had ancestral connections with Donegal.