I AGREE with your correspondents on the matter of children being taught in Gaelic (Letters, February 11).

My own experience was with Welsh. Born in Lancashire to a Welsh-speaking father and his family my childhood was full of the language and chapel was my background. Of course school was English, all my friends were English, and over the years I lost my Welsh. I can sit here with my books and pronounce the Welsh easily but it isn’t the same as speaking it fluently.

I loved Sunday evenings after chapel when the family and friends gathered in my Nain’s (grandmother’s) house and the talk was all in the comfort of Welsh. I also loved my 30 years living on Skye surrounded by the sounds of voices speaking the Gaelic. It is not the same language as the Welsh but the music and poetry in the sound has the same effect on one’s senses.

I have such a big regret, after all these years, that, when standing next to Somhairle MacGill-Eain in the Co-op in Portree I was too shy to tell him how much I loved his poetry. I did then and often do now, read Reothairt Is Contraigh (Spring Tide and Neap Tide) from end to end. How lovely are the poems The Woods of Raasay and Hallaig. How they break the heart too.

It would be so wrong to let this most beautiful and ancient of languages die. It is rich in history and poetry and is part of the warp and weft of Scottish life.

One of the most lovely things I came across one day in a shop in Dunvegan was a grandmother with her wee grandson – he looked about three years old - speaking to each other in Gaelic. He was fascinated by the fruits and she was telling him what they were. Occasionally they spoke English but it was better in Gaelic. The look of wonder on his small face as he looked at her was something to treasure.

Thelma Edwards,

Old Comrades Hall, Hume, Kelso.

COULD we please have a grown-up dialogue about Gaelic education, rather than Roy Gardiner’s silly offering (Letters, February 14)? Yes, there will be those for whom it is a bit of a game, but for most - including those who have themselves gone on to make significant contributions to Gaelic culture (or should I say, culture, through the medium of Gaelic) - I would assume some pleasure is had in having added to an already rich tradition.

That the 20th century, despite a hostile education system, could produce poets of the stature of Derick Thomson, Donald MacAulay, Iain Crichton Smith, and the towering figure of Sorley MacLean, is itself little short of miraculous. That “new Gaels” like Meg Bateman, Christopher Whyte, Fearghas Mac Fhionnlaigh, and others, have provided eloquent poetic inspiration for younger generations is surely cause for celebration rather than griping?

Aonghas MacNeacail,

The Rock, Carlops, by Penicuik, Midlothian.