In a sense, Blackie had been lucky. When he was growing up in North Kerry, there had never been enough to eat for any of them, but he had had several benefactors who had small tidbits to give him—Mrs. O’Malley and Cook from Lord Lassiter’s mansion at the top of the hill. Siobhan sometimes brought something home with her, sent by the generous cook. Even before Blackie lived with his cousins, Siobhan had tried to share food with his family, much to his sister’s gratitude. Bronagh was unwell for a while and did not have a big appetite, but he was much relieved when she managed to eat something, and he saw that she had enjoyed it.

Now on this cool Friday afternoon he was seated at the table in Uncle Patrick’s parlor, where for the first time in his life it appeared that food was plentiful. His uncle was in the tiny kitchen with Aunt Eileen. The two of them were putting food on the three plates. Blackie’s nose twitched at the delicious smells emanating from the kitchen. His mouth watered, and he could hardly wait to eat.

Then there it was, the plate being placed in front of him by his aunt, who said, “Tuck in, Blackie. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“Oh, I will, Aunt Eileen, sure and I will. My mouth is watering already.”

Eileen smiled as she sat down next to him, and then accepted her own plate from her husband. Patrick returned with a jug of gravy, which he placed in the middle of the table. Looking at his nephew, he said, “There are more potatoes and onions in the oven, if you want a second helping, lad.”

“Thanks, Uncle Pat, and ye too, Aunt,” he answered, and picked up his knife and fork. With a small and rather shy smile for him, he said, “I’ve only ever had sausage once before. What is it made of, Aunt Eileen?”

Startled though she was to hear this, she said quickly, “Minced-up pork that’s pushed into a thin skin. So it’s called pork sausage, but there is beef sausage too. They make a tasty meal like this with onions, mashed potatoes and gravy. That does give it a really special flavor.”

Blackie nodded and munched on the sausage, savoring it, his face filled with happiness. He went on eating, but slowly, trying to be polite, not putting too much into his mouth at once. Oh yes, he decided, I’ll have this any time my aunt makes it.… She’s the best cook in the world.

The three of them were all hungry and, although they ate carefully, not wanting to look greedy to finish and have seconds, they were mostly silent. It just so happened they were lost in their own thoughts, preoccupied.