One Cold Afternoon

There’s one moment I’ll never forget. It was a bitterly cold afternoon outside the shopping centre in Wicklow. The wind kept cutting through our jackets, and the clouds threatened rain all day. We were hours into the fundraiser, and I noticed one of the athletes—quiet, reliable, always first to show up—hadn’t taken their break.

I offered to cover their spot so they could warm up and grab something to eat. They smiled and said, “No, I’m grand. I’m not really hungry.” But I could see the truth in their eyes. It wasn’t about dedication—it was about money. They had no lunch, no coins in their pocket, and no way to step away without drawing attention to that fact.

So they stayed. Kept shaking that bucket like their life depended on it. And in some ways, maybe it did.

It was in that moment I started seeing the cracks—the way the image of joy and inclusion didn’t always match the reality. We were told we were raising funds for a better future. But sometimes, we were just getting through the day, hoping no one would notice how tired or hungry we were.

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