Michael Harding

‘I swung back down to gather up the girl in my arms — she had of course fainted — and I carried her to a waiting ambulance’

Michael Harding: He finished his pint in that firm silence men use when they want to hide how frightened they are

In a packed hostelry in Meenaleck, we bore witness to a spectacular, life-affirming moment in which the world felt like a kinder and gentler place

I have felt gratitude every single day since, for the ambulance team which reached me so swiftly and saved me from the abyss, so that I could continue writing columns and enjoying swanky hotels

Michael Harding: At breakfast there was an unusual hush in the restaurant. It didn’t feel like a normal hotel

People who know better have assured me that it’s an artistic masterpiece, but I couldn’t bear to go beyond episode three

‘Driving home the next morning I was still fascinated so much by the storyteller behind the plastic bag mask that I forgot to get petrol before heading up the motorway’

Maybe an old homeless woman minding a cow is not the most obvious example of an angel, but our Cavan community revered her

St Brigid’s Day: I let rip with all the fabulous magical realism I could muster and soon I had the General cornered

Old dancers used to be lionised for their steps, because their exuberance contrasted with their seniority, evoking both awe and pity in the tragic ritual

The fiddle invokes in the listener a quiet ecstasy; it turns young hearts to love and makes old folks smile and fall silent

I was on my way back from RTÉ. Our conversation began well but then descended into silence

Callow love sundered but life rumbles on until … letters yellowed by age surface at a funeral

Being alone in Warsaw in December is not everyone’s idea of a good holiday, but for me its streets are haunted by the peace that follows terrible suffering

Michael Harding: The General can’t see why I visit Warsaw, but it’s wonderful, the city razed by Nazi Germany now shining in the dark like a beacon of hope