All of 2018 and 2019, my parents' life revolved around my Dad. He had (and still has) various health problems, some so serious he almost died, and their daily life involves regular administration of medication, keeping appoinments with doctors, a carefully planned diet with regular meals and so on.
All this has meant my Mum has had no mind for writing anything for my blog, resulting in her previous guest post being from just before Christmas 2017. You can read that post here or by clicking on the "Guest Posts" label at the top of this page, just underneath the header.
Today, the 6th of January ("Three Kings" in Germany), is a holiday in my part of Germany, and a very welcome one at that. Most people I know put away their Christmas decorations today and get ready to resume normal life after the Christmas and New Year period, myself included.
While I was in the middle of cleaning, ironing, putting up washing and taking my boxes of Christmas things down to the cellar, my mobile phone beeped with a message from my Mum. She sent me two photographs of a drawing and a poem she had written for her childhood friend when she was a little girl.
I found it very touching (to be honest, the drawing and poem brought tears to my eyes) and texted my Mum back, saying that this would make a good subject for a guest post.
And here, a few hours later, is the post:
A Sweet Memory from the Past
Today I received a WhatsApp message from my best friend Beate with 2 pictures. We have known each other for 74 years, first in kindergarden, then in school. We sat side by side in the classroom, and though we sometimes lived in different towns or even countries, we never lost touch to this day.
She told me in the message that she is busy clearing out her house, and found her old poetry album in the process, which she had believed lost forever.
In our childhood, every little girl had such an album, and all friends, family members and teachers had to write a poem or saying. There were often very strange entries, funny or serious.
Favorite illustrations were stickers with glitter, little pussycats or other pets, but also flowers and fairy-tale motives.
But also watercolour paintings or pencil drawings were much admired, and so I tried my very best, especially with the poem. My handwriting was very bad, I mostly got two different grades in school: For the content a "1" (best!), and underneath my teacher wrote in red letters: „handwriting!!!!“
So I am really astonished about this text, I can't remember, but I must have been very focused while writing. I was 10 years old.
The poem reads (more or less): "May each of your days be cheerful, glad and happy. Never may sorrow mix in with your joys. In memory of your friend Siegrun Engel." |
Today the kids have such memory books, too, but with printed questionnaires, so that the friend, family member or teacher only has to check answers with a cross, that is not quite the same.
It was a nostalgic glimpse into the past, when my world was still whole and good.
- - - End of Guest Post - - -
Is it any wonder this brought tears to my eyes? To imagine my dear Mum, now 75, at the age of 10*, sitting at the dining table in her parents' house (I guess that is where she sat, with her coloured pencils and her ink pen), concentrating hard on creating something beautiful for her best friend?
When my sister and I were little, we had such albums as well. In our day (we are talking the 1970s here), it was still very much like my Mum's, with drawings or stickers adorning the handwritten poems or proverbs by our friends, relatives and (only select) teachers.
By the way, my handwriting is similarly bad - and like my Mum decades before me, I often had such remarks underneath my essays at school, while I got best grades for their content.
*You can see a picture of my Mum on her first school day in 1950 here.
I have such poetry albums and friendship books from my early school years too. They were very popular - but only among the girls. I don't think any of the boys ever wrote in them! ;)
ReplyDeleteI will have to go through my album to check if any boys wrote in them, but I don't think so - remembering my school years, I can not imagine me having asked any boy to write in my album!
DeleteThis is so lovely and quite special. Such warm memories become even more special with the passage of time. I love the tradition of keeping such albums. I especially love that your Mom shared this with you and with us! Thank you Siegrun!
ReplyDeleteMy Mum can not comment here herself (for some unknown reason, although she could do so in the past, it seems impossible now), but she reads all comments and is glad that you like what she wrote.
DeleteSo your mum's first name is Siegrun? I understand it is closely liknked to the Norse/Danish name Sigrun. I wondered what it meant and found this - though I am sure that you already knew it:-
ReplyDeleteSigrún is the name of a Valkyrie, the reborn Svafa. She is the daughter of Hǫgni and in love with the hero Helgi Hundingsbana. After her death she will be reborn as Kára.
Nice to read such a sweet new guest post from your mum.
Thank you, Neil.
DeleteYes, Siegrun is a variation of Sigrun. Many children born in the 1930s and 40s in Germany were given names with Norse origins, just like in the 1990s, names taken from US celebrities or movie characters were popular here (Kevin, Justin...).
It is interesting how name fashions change.
DeleteIt is, isn't it! When I went to school, we had many Monikas, Claudias and Sabines. Boys were often Andreas, Jürgen and Thomas. You rarely find a German baby named Sabine or Jürgen these days.
DeleteIt brought tears to my eyes too - it is beautiful, both the sentiment in the poem and the sweet drawings. Treasure it.
ReplyDeleteHaving it here on my blog is one way of preserving it. I am sure my Mum's friend will now keep her album in a place where she will remember it.
DeleteWhat a wonderful guest post. I am so glad this is not lost and that your mother was willing to share it with us. I like her handwriting though I thought most European handwriting was more up and down rather than slanted.
ReplyDeleteGlad you like it, Kristi!
DeleteI see lots of different handwriting every day at work and can not detect any pattern such as up and down or slanted; there is more of a difference between male and female, older and younger writers, though. An interesting topic that would definitely be worth its own blog post!
Our languages may differ, but when we share similar experiences, myths and legends our drawings are the same.
ReplyDeleteAs of course you know, our languages have the same roots.
DeleteLooking at my Mum's drawing, I think it is beautifully done; the plant, the snail... she was only 10.
I am just a little older than your Mum. When I was a schoolgirl we all had an autograph book in which friends wrote jokes and poems or drew pictures and then signed their names with a flourish. The pages of the book were of different pastel colours. Boys also had autograph books, but their aim was usually to fill the pages with the autographs of local footballers or cricketers.
ReplyDeleteMy parents had a guest book and visitors sometimes made up poems about their stay - usually humorous as my Dad was quite a character! I'm sorry to learn that your father has health problems, I know from experience that it is hard for both the person who is ill and also for the carer and I hope that a better year lies ahead.
Thank you for your kind words!
DeleteYour mention of a guest book reminds me of a similar book my grandparents kept in their allotment. They would sometimes stay there for a weekend or a few days in a row (it had a small block house where they could sleep) and often had friends visiting who would write something about their stay. I don't think the book exists anymore, but it would be nice to look at it again.
This is wonderful, wonderful.
ReplyDeleteGlad you like it, Nan.
DeleteUtterly charming. When we cleared my Mum's house I kept her autograph book, full of lovely drawings and poems from her school girl chums. A super idea for a post.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Cathy! I thought so, too, and am glad I managed to persuade my Mum to write this guest post.
DeleteI believe this is your first comment here? Welcome to my blog!
How lovely. Such beautiful art and writing .
ReplyDeleteMy father kept a scrapbook of the milestones and successes of his children and
grandchildren. I am now decluttering and when I find any articles or photos about my children or grandchildren, I stick them in a scrap book. So much nicer than on screen.
It must be wonderful to go through that scrapbook! I wonder how much of it you actually remember, and how often you would be surprised how long ago something or other in your lives has happened.
DeleteHow can it NOT bring tears? I love this! Such a kind thing for your mother to create at the age of ten! And I like you had the link at the end to show us the photos of your Mum! She has movie star looks and that has not changed! (That photo of her as a teenager, so happy she looks! And beautiful!)
ReplyDeletePlease give my love to both your parents. xx
Thank you, dear Kay, it is much appreciated!
DeleteSpeaking of my Mum's movie star looks - I have photos of her from when she was in her very early 20s, she looked like a young Nicole Kidman.
Correction...she favors a young Nicole Kidman. Your Mum would have been even prettier! xx Tell her I said so! (And you know I'm right!)
DeleteI will tell her, Kay! Thank you!
DeleteThank you, Meike's Mum, for such a heart-warming post. I think of you often since November 2018.
ReplyDeleteThe poem's message is beautiful.
Somewhere in the recess of my mind I think your Birthday is in August. Mine is in June 1944 so we are about the same age.
I only have one friend left from my kindergarten age. We were never as close as you and your friends until we were in out 20s. Then we became very close and her daughter became my Goddaughter. My Goddaughter still comes with her family to stay with me on Lewis. Old friendships are very precious. Even when they live 500 miles away.
Thank you for thinking of us, Graham!
DeleteYou remember correctly; my Mum's birthday is in August.
Yes, old friendships are precious. Most of my parents' friends go back a long time, many to when my sister and I were little and there were other young couples with small children in the neighbourhood; us kids played together and our mothers met across the street.