Saturday, July 20, 2019

Personal Narrative - Mother Ireland :: Example Personal Narratives

Mother Ireland My family is proud to boast a long and rich history mothered by the Emerald Isle of Erin, which is Gaelic for Ireland. My family's clan was first called the O'Neills, and we inhabited the outskirts of a small village which now goes by the name of County Cork. We were minstrels, actors and musicians in the courts of our family's home for many generations. An interesting piece of recent history about my family is that we are closely related to the Kennedys on my father's side. My grandmother was one of the Davises, who in some way were related intimately to the Fitzgeralds, who were John F. Kennedy's mother's close family. And not too many people know this, but one of the young Kennedy ladies had the good fortune of marrying the famous Mr. Arnold Schwartzenagger. I wish to go even farther back, though, to the era of the Medieval Renaissance on the Isle, when my family owned their own lands and estate, and the head of our family was known as one of the first rulers of Ireland. Our family's castle and lands remain standing to this day, but are inhabited by no one for failure to pay twenty million dollars in back taxes over the past three hundred years. So now our family's castle sits as a tourist attraction on the coast of Erin, as a reminder of the rich and time-honored beauty it has brought and will always bring to the Island. Our family owes its debt of gratitude to one young man. The rule who was living in our family's castle at the time had two sons. At the time, having two sons meant that the ruler would have to entrust his lands and properties to one of them when he died. Since the ruler could not decide whom to entrust the castle to, he told them to have boat race around the shores of Roan Innish ("Isle of the Seals, a small island off the coast of Ireland). So it was determined that whoever was first to touch the shoreline on the other side of the island would inherit all of his father's wealth. Well, the race was long and hard, and the younger son grew so tired that he could not row one second longer even though he was so close to the shoreline.

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