Oostern üm 1930

vun Clara Kramer- Freudenthal 
(Lentmoond 1998)

Liggt bald söbentig Johr dortwüschen. Wat is nich allns posseert in de lange Tiet! Een lütten Blick torüch müch ik mol smieten. Arbeitslose geev dat lieksoveel as hüdigendoogs, ober mit een gans groten Ünnerscheed. Sozialhilfe? Wat wüür dat? De Minschen, de nix harrn, keumen in dat Armenhuus, un dat wüür dat Letzt'!

Een Dag vör Greundönnersdag geev dat Schoolfiern to Oostern un Tüchnisse. Gau bün ik no Huus lopen, üm Mamma un Gertrud to helpen, dormit to Oostern ok in Hoff un Goorn allns herricht un propper wüür. Mamma hett sik mien Tüchnis ankeken, un wüür tofreden mit de Zensuurn. Mit de Wüür: ,,So, mien Diern, nu goh man gau mit ruut un help Gertrud, denn köönt ji bet Middag mit Steenwegschrubben rund üm't Huus trecht warrn.'' Gertrud, good fief Johr öller as ik, frei sik öber mien Help. Dat Woter hett Gertrud ut den Groben hoochsleept, un ik hebb mit den groten Riesbessen schrubbt. Bet to Middagstiet harrn wi dat schafft. No een deftige Mohltiet güng dat ober fuurts wieder. De Hoff no achtern ruut wüür ok plostert, un müß liekso rein ween as de Steenweg vörn Huus. Bet an den Häuhnerwiem müssen wi schrubben. Mit een Kutüffelschellmeß hebb ik dat Unkruut ut de Ritzen twüschen de Steen puult. Blang den Häuhnerwiem wüür Tante Meier, dat lütte Huus mit een Hatt in de Döör. Dor müß dat blitzen un blinken, harr Mamma uns opdrogen. Sogor een lütte Gordien harr Mamma häkelt, de ik mit dree Pinn vör dat Hatt fastmookt hebb. Ole Blöder wörrn för den neudigen Sweck in Quodrote sneen, op een Sacksband optrocken, un an een Nogel ophungen. Uns Tante Meier wüür good 20 Meter vun't Huus af un harr twee Sitten. Een hogen för de Groten un een sieden för uns Lütten. Blang beide Sitten wüür Popeer proot to'n Griepen.

To'n Sluß wüür de Häuhnerwiem an de Reeh. De Häuhnerschiet keum op den Mißhupen blang den Swienskoben, un dat ole Hau ut de Nester ok. In jeedeen Nest müssen wi frischet Hau, veer Kampferkugeln un een Kalkei leggen. Kampfer wüür gegen de Häuhnerfleuhn un dat Kalkei schull jüm wiesen, woneem se jümehr Eier afleggen schulln. Hett nich ümmer nützt. Foken hebbt de Kluckhäuhner jümehr Eier ünner de Stickbeernbüsch leggt un keumen denn mit een ganse Schööf Küken an. Oh, wüür dat ümmer seut! Pappa hett to Oostern den Swienskoben un den Häuhnerwiem wittjert. Ok harr Pappa gelen Kies anführn loten, den he vör dat Heck un linker- un rechterhand blang den Steenweg verdeelt hett. Binn un buten müß allns propper to Oostern ween.

To Kaffetiet keum Hannes Slachter, üm sien Warf to Oostern optonehm. Bi uns geev dat keen Lamm- or Schoopsbroden. Mamma bestell een Kalvsnierenbroden un een poor Pund Ossenbroden dorto. ,,Kalvsfleesch is Halvfleesch, wenn de Schü good smecken schall, denn mütt een Stück Ossenfleesch mit to Füür'', sä Mamma ümmer, un hett uns liektiedig anlihrt.

Stillfreedag güng dat Vörmiddoogs to Kark. De Dag wüür hillig, dor wörr nix doon. Hannes Garms ut de Wellenstroot harr uns al mit Fisch versorgt. Wenn wi Glück harrn, geev dat Ool or Stint. Mamma harr allns noch an den Greundönnersdag trecht mookt, ok de Kutüffeln al schellt. Oostersünnobend wüür Backdag. Een grotet Krinthenbroot keum in den Backoben. Een Lust wüür't antosehn, wo uns Mamma allns vun de Hannen güng. Kinner, Huus, Goorn, Feld un Veehtüch, allns harr se op'n Droht. Ohn' Waschmoschien, Huulbessen, Elekto-Hierd un wat noch allns hüüttodoogs de Huusarbeit lichter mookt. Nie nich hebbt wi Kinner markt, datt se Öberlast harr, un de harr se, dat weet ik hüüt. De Torte wörr toletzt backt. 

Och, wüür dat scheun in mien Kinnertiet! Eunt un Kluckhehn harrn jümehr Küken utseten. Dat Woter in de Grobens wüür noch sund, datt de Eunt fuurts mit ehr Kinner to Woter güng. Dor wüür noch Leben in de Grobens. Obends, wenn se vun jümehrn Utfloog trüchkeumen, hett Mama noch Foder hinstreit, ober se wüürn foken so satt, datt se nix mihr anreugt hebbt. De Kluckhehn mit ehr Küken müß ober dreemol an'n Dag Hobergrött kriegen. Metten söchen se sik in'n Hoff un ünner de Büsch. Grote Freid harr ik an uns Schoop ,,Lene''. To Oostern harr se ümmer een or ok twee Lammers. Lene wüß, wenn ik keum, denn geev dat wat Leckeret för ehr. Foken harr ik een Sneed Swattbroot or een Appel in mien Schörtentasch. Mien allerleevst Deert ober wüür mien Katt, mien Bumann, de seet un sitt noch hüüt gans deep in mien Hatt. To Oostern harr se ümmer een dicken Buuk un wüür kott dorvör, ehre Jungen to kriegen.

Dat Wichtigste ober wüür Oostersünnobend dat Oosterfüür an de Est'. De jungen Mannslüüd harrn achtern Diek op de Wischen Hult tosomendrogen. In de Schummertiet wörr de grote Hupen ansteken. De ganse Noberschupp seet tosomen an den Diek. Op de anner Siet vun de Est', op de Hoov, harrn se to glieken Tiet ok een Oosterfüür ansteken. De Flamm'n drössen nich to hooch sloon, wiel all de Hüüs noch mit Reet deckt wüürn. Mien Öllernhuus hett ok hüüt noch een Reetdack. Ole un junge Minschen seten mankeenanner un süngen uns scheunen, düütschen Volksleder. Uns Noberssöhn, Walter Bars (Bartels) harr een Muulorgel un wi uns Stimm för all de scheunen Leder, de hüüt kuum noch een kinnt, or männigeen gor oldmoodsch finn'n deit. Wenn't Füür denn no een Stünnstiet doolbrennt wüür, sünd wi vergneugt no Huus gohn un hebbt uns op Oostern freit.

Uns Oosternester harr Mamma ünner de Johannsbeernbüsch versteken. Seutet geev dat nich veel. De Eier harr Mamma mit Zippelschell bruun farvt. Poor witte Söcken, or een Griffelkassen legen männigmol in de Nester. Dat wüür ok noog, wi Göörn wüürn tofreden. Öber de Blomen in'n Goorn, op de Wischen un an den Diek hebbt wi uns freit. Dat wüür ober ok een Klüür, nich to beschrieben. Schood, uns is veel verloorn gohn in disse gaulebige Tiet. Müch Oostern doch nochmol so warrn, as uns Dichterfürst J.W. von Goethe uns dat in sien Riemel ,,Osterspaziergang'' beschreben hett. Dat end't:

Zufrieden jauchzet groß und klein:
hier bin ich Mensch, hier darf ich's sein.

Easter around 1930

by Clara Kramer- Freudenthal 
(March 1998)

There are close to seventy years between then and now. What a lot of things have happened in all this time! I'd like to take a bit of a look back. There were just as many unemployed people as nowadays, but there is quite a big difference. Social security? What was it then? People who had nothing ended up in the poorhouse, and that was the worst thing imaginable!

One day before Maundy Thursday our Easter school holidays would begin, and we would get our grade reports. I would rush home to help Mom and Gertrud so everything in yard and garden would be made neat and tidy. Mom would take a look at my report and would be happy with my grades, [sending me off] with the words "All right, my girl. Off you go outside to help Gertrud now! Then you two can get on with scrubbing the [paved] pathway around the house until noon." Gertrud, who was more than five years older than I, would be happy I helped her. Gertrud would lug the water up from the ditch, and I would scrub with the big [old-fashioned] broom. We would finish the job by noon. But after a hearty meal we would continue [working] right away. The yard in the back was paved too and would have to be just as clean as the paved path in front of the house. We would have to scrub all the way up to the chicken coop. I would tease the weeds out from between the slabs with a potato peeler. Next to the chicken coop was the loo ["Aunt Meier" = john, lavatory], the little house with a heart in its door. "It's got to be shining and sparkling there," Mom had instructed us. Mom had even crocheted a little curtain, which I fastened with three pins in front of the heart. For the necessary purpose old newspapers would be cut into squares, strung up on a piece of string and hung from a nail. Our loo was situated a good 20 meters [= 65.6 feet] away from the house and had two seats: a high one for big folks and a low one for us little ones. Between the seats paper would be available for the grabbing.

Finally it would be the chicken coop's turn. The chicken droppings would end up on the dung heap next to the pigsty, and so would the old hay from the nests. Into each nest we would have to place fresh hay, four camphor balls and one chalk egg. Camphor was supposed to be against chicken fleas, and the chalk egg was meant to show the chickens where to lay their eggs. It was of no use. Oftentimes the hens would lay their eggs underneath the gooseberry bushes and would then show up with a whole flock of chicks. Oh, was that cute every time! Daddy would whitewash the pigsty and the chicken coop for Easter. Also, Daddy would have yellow gravel delivered, which he would spread out in front of the hedge as well as left and right of the pathway. Inside and out, everything would have to be neat and tidy in time for Easter.

At coffee time, Hannes [= John] the Butcher would arrive to conduct his business for Easter. Roast lamb or mutton would not be served in our home. Mom would order a veal-and-kidney roast as well as a pound of beef. "Calf meat is half meat. If the gravy is supposed to be tasty, then you've got to cook a piece of beef with it," Mom used to say, and this is the way she taught us.

We used to go to church on Good Friday in the morning. The day was holy. No work would be done then. Hannes Garms of Wellen Street would have supplied us with fish already. When we were lucky we would have eel or smelt. Mom would have prepared everything on Maundy Thursday, would have also peeled the potatoes. Holy Saturday used to be bake day. A large loaf of currant bread would be put into the oven. -- It was a pleasure to watch Mom working so efficiently and competently. Children, house, garden, field and animals ... she was on top of everything, without a washing machine, ["howling broom" =] a vacuum cleaner, an electric stove and all the other things that make house work easier these days. We children never noticed that she was overburdened, and she was; I know that now. -- The torte would be baked last.

Oh, it used to be just lovely when I was a child! Ducks and hens used to take out their young. The water in the ditches was still healthy at the time, so the ducks would take to the water with their young right away. There was still life in the ditches. In the evening, when they would return from their outing, Mom would still scatter some food, but oftentimes they would be so full that they did not touch any of it. But the hens with their chicks would have to get some oatmeal three times a day. They would look for grubs in the yard and underneath the bushes. I was particularly fond of our sheep Lene [= Marlene]. At Easter time she would always have one or even two lambs. Lene would know when I showed up. That is when she got a treat. Oftentimes I would have a slice of black bread or an apple in my apron pocket. But my most favorite animal was my cat, my Bumann [= Boogieman]. I still carry her deep in my heart. At Easter time she would always have a big belly and would be close to giving birth to her young.

But the most important thing on Holy Saturday used to be the Easter fire on the river Est/Este. The young men would gather wood behind the dike on the meadows. The great, big heap would be set alight at dusk. The entire neighborhood would be sitting together by the dike. At the same time people would light an Easter fire on the other side of the Est/Este, in Hoov'/Hove. The flames could not be allowed to become too tall, because the houses used to be still thatched with reed. My parents' house has a thatched roof even these days. Old and young folks would sit together and would sing our beautiful German folksongs. Our neighbor's son, Walter Bars/Bartels, had a harmonica and we had our voices for all those beautiful songs that hardly anyone knows these days or that many people consider old-fashioned even. An hour later when the fire had died down we would go home in good spirits and would be looking forward to Easter.

Mom used to hide our Easter nests underneath the currant bushes. There would not be a lot in the way of sweets. Mom used to die the eggs brown with onion peel. Sometimes a pair of white socks or a pencil case would be lying in the nests. That was plenty. We kids would be happy. We used to be delighted with the flowers in the garden, in the meadows and on the dike. What color that was! It's beyond description. Too bad! We have lost a lot in these hectic times. If Easter could only once again be as our poet laureate J. W. Goethe described it for us in his [German] poem "Easter Walk"! This is how it ends:

Big and small would whoop with glee,
"I'm human here, here I may be."

Oostern uem 1930

fun Clara Kramer- Freudenthal 
(Lentmaand 1998)

Ligt bald soyventig jaar daar twueschen. Wat is nich allens paasseird in de lange tiid! 'n Luetten blik tourueg muech ik maal smiten. Arbaids-lose geev' dat liikso feel as huydigendaags, aver mit 'n ganss groten uennerscheid. Sozialhilfe? Wat woyr dat? De minschen dei niks harren koymen in dat armen-huus, un dat woyr dat letst!

Ein dag foer Groyn Doennersdag geev' dat schoulfeiren tou Oostern un tuygnisse. Gau buen ik naa huus loupen uem Mamma un Gertrud tou helpen daarmit tou Oostern ouk in hov un gaarn allens her-richtt un propper woyr. Mamma het sik miin tuygnis an-keken un woyr toufreden mit de tsensuren, mit de woyrd' ,,Soo, miin deirn, nuu gaa man gau mit ruut un help Gertrud. Den keunt jii bet middag mit steinweg schrubben rund uem't huus trecht warrn.'' Gertrud - goud fiiv jaar oelder as ik - frei sik euver miin help. Dat water het Gertrud uut d'n graven hoog sleepd, un ik hev mit d'n groten riisbessen schrubd. Bet tou middagstiid harren wii dat schafd. Naa 'n deftige maaltiid gueng dat aver fourts wider. De hov naa achtern ruut woyr ouk plosterd un muess liiksoo rain ween as de steinweg foer'n huus. Bet an d'n hoynerwiim muessen wii schrubben. Mit 'n kutueffelschellmess hev ik dat unkruut uut de ritsen twueschen de stein puuld. Blang d'n hoynerwiim woyr Tante Maier, dat luette huus mit 'n hat in de deur. ,,Daar muess dat blitsen un blinken,'' har Mamma uns op-dragen. Sogaar 'n luette gardiin har Mamma hekeld de ik mit drei pinnen foer dat hat fast-maakd hev. Olde bleuder woerren foer d'n noydigen swek in kwaadrate sneien, op 'n saksband op-trokken un an 'n nagel op-hungen. Uns Tante Maier woyr goud 20 [twintig] meter fun't huus af un har twei sitten: ein hogen foer de groten un ein siden foer uns luetten. Blang baide sitten woyr paapeir praat tou'n gripen.

Tou d'n sluss woyr de hoynerwiim an de reig'. De hoynerschiit koym op d'n misthupen blang d'n swiins-koven, un dat olde hau uut de nester ouk. In jeid ein nest muessen wii frischet hau, feir kampferkugeln un ein kalk-ai leggen. Kampfer woyr gegen de hoynerfloyn, un dat kalk-ai schul juem wisen wouneem sei juem er aier af-leggen schullen. Het nich uemmer nuetsd. Faken hevt de klukhoyner juem er aier uenner de stikberenbuesch legd un koymen den mit 'n gansse schoyv kuyken an. Oo, woyr dat uemmer soyt! Pappa het tou Oostern d'n swiins-koven un d'n hoynerwiim wittjerd. Ouk har Pappa gelen kiis an-foyren laten d'n hei foer dat hek un linker- un rechterhand blang d'n steinweg ferdeild het. Binnen un buten muess allens propper tou Oostern ween.

Tou kaffe-tiid koym Hannes Slachter uem siin warf tou Oostern op tou nemen. Bii uns geev' dat kein lam- or schaapsbraden. Mamma bestel 'n kalvs-neirenbraden un 'n paar pund ossenbraden daar tou. ,,Kalvsfleisch is halvfleisch. Wen de schuy goud smekken schal, den muett 'n stuek ossenfleisch mit tou fuyr,'' see Mamma uemmer un het uns liiktidig an-leird.

Stil Freidag gueng dat foermiddaags tou kark. De dag woyr hillig. Daar woerd' niks daan. Hannes Garms uut de Wellenstraat har uns al mit fisch fersorgd. Wen wii gluek harren geev' dat aal or stint. Mamma har allens noch an d'n Groyn Doennersdag t'recht maakd, ouk de kutueffeln al scheld. Oostersuennavend woyr bakdag. 'n Grotet krintenbrood koym in d'n bak-aven. -- 'n Lust woyr't an tou sein, wou uns Mamma allens fun de handen gueng. Kinder, huus, gaarn, feld un feituyg - allens har sei op d'n draat, aan waschmaaschiin, huulbessen, elekto-heird un wat noch allens huyttoudaags de huus-arbaid lichter maakt. Nii nich hebbt wii kinder markd dat sei euverlast har. Un dei har sei. Dat weit ik huyt. -- De torte woerd' tou letst bakd.

Och, woyr dat schoyn in miin kindertiid! Oynt un klukhenen harren juem er kueken uut-seten. Dat water in de gravens woyr noch sund, dat de oynt fourts mit er kinder tou water guengen. Daar woyr noch leven in de gravens. Avends, wen sei fun juem eren uutfloug trueg-koymen, het Mama noch fouder hin-straid, aver sei woyren faken soo sat dat sei niks meir an-roygd hebt. De Klukhenen mit er kuyken muess aver dreimaal an d'n dag havergroet krigen. Metten soechen sei sik in d'n hov un uenner de buesch. Grote fraid' har ik an uns schaap Lene. Tou Oostern har sei uemmer ein or ouk twei lammers. Lene wuess wen ik koym. Den geev' dat wat lekkeret foer er. Faken har ik 'n sneid swatbrood or 'n appel in miin schoertentasch. Miin allerleivst deirt aver woyr miin kat, miin Buman. Dei seet un sitt noch huyt ganss deip in miin hat. Tou Oostern har sei uemmer 'n dikken buuk un woyr kot daar foer ere jungen tou krigen.

Dat wichtigsde aver woyr Oostersuennavend dat Oosterfuyr an de Est. De jungen mans-luyd' harren achter d'n diik op de wischen hult tousamen-dragen. In de schummertiid woer de grote hupen an-steken. De gansse naverschup seet tousamen an d'n diik. Op de anner siid fun de Est, op de Hoov', harren sei tou gliiken tiid ouk 'n Oosterfuyr an-steken. De flammen droessen nich tou hoog slaan, wiil al de huys noch mit reit dekd woyren. Miin oeldernhuus het ouk huyt noch 'n reitdak. Olde un junge minschen seten mank enanner un suengen uns schoynen, duytschen folks-leider. Uns naversseun, Walter Bars (Bartels), har 'n muul-orgel un wii uns stimmen foer al de schoynen leider dei huyt kuum noch ein kint or mennig ein gaar oldmoodsch finden dait. Wen't fuyr den naa ein stuends tiid daalbrend woyr suend wii fergnoygd naa huus gaan un hebt uns op Oostern fraid.

Uns Oosternester har Mamma uenner de johansberenbuesch fersteken. Soytet geiv' dat nich feel. De aier har Mamma mit tsippel-schel bruun farvd. Paar witte soekken or 'n griffelkassen legen mennig maal in de nester. Dat woyr ouk noug. Wii geuren woyren toufreiden. Euver de bloumen in d'n gaarn, op de wischen un an d'n diik hebt wii uns fraid. Dat woyr aver ouk 'n kloyr! Nich tou beschriven. Schaad'! Uns is feel ferloren gaan in disse gaulevige tiid. Muech Oostern doch noch maal soo warden as uns dichterfuerst J. W. von Goethe uns dat in siin rimel ,,Osterspaziergang'' beschreven het. Dat endt:

,,Zufrieden jauchzet groß und klein:
hier bin ich Mensch, hier darf ich's sein.''

Easter around 1930

by Clara Kramer- Freudenthal 
(March 1998)

There are close to seventy years between then and now. What a lot of things have happened in all this time! I'd like to take a bit of a look back. There were just as many unemployed people as nowadays, but there is quite a big difference. Social security? What was it then? People who had nothing ended up in the poorhouse, and that was the worst thing imaginable!

One day before Maundy Thursday our Easter school holidays would begin, and we would get our grade reports. I would rush home to help Mom and Gertrud so everything in yard and garden would be made neat and tidy. Mom would take a look at my report and would be happy with my grades, [sending me off] with the words "All right, my girl. Off you go outside to help Gertrud now! Then you two can get on with scrubbing the [paved] pathway around the house until noon." Gertrud, who was more than five years older than I, would be happy I helped her. Gertrud would lug the water up from the ditch, and I would scrub with the big [old-fashioned] broom. We would finish the job by noon. But after a hearty meal we would continue [working] right away. The yard in the back was paved too and would have to be just as clean as the paved path in front of the house. We would have to scrub all the way up to the chicken coop. I would tease the weeds out from between the slabs with a potato peeler. Next to the chicken coop was the loo ["Aunt Meier" = john, lavatory], the little house with a heart in its door. "It's got to be shining and sparkling there," Mom had instructed us. Mom had even crocheted a little curtain, which I fastened with three pins in front of the heart. For the necessary purpose old newspapers would be cut into squares, strung up on a piece of string and hung from a nail. Our loo was situated a good 20 meters [= 65.6 feet] away from the house and had two seats: a high one for big folks and a low one for us little ones. Between the seats paper would be available for the grabbing.

Finally it would be the chicken coop's turn. The chicken droppings would end up on the dung heap next to the pigsty, and so would the old hay from the nests. Into each nest we would have to place fresh hay, four camphor balls and one chalk egg. Camphor was supposed to be against chicken fleas, and the chalk egg was meant to show the chickens where to lay their eggs. It was of no use. Oftentimes the hens would lay their eggs underneath the gooseberry bushes and would then show up with a whole flock of chicks. Oh, was that cute every time! Daddy would whitewash the pigsty and the chicken coop for Easter. Also, Daddy would have yellow gravel delivered, which he would spread out in front of the hedge as well as left and right of the pathway. Inside and out, everything would have to be neat and tidy in time for Easter.

At coffee time, Hannes [= John] the Butcher would arrive to conduct his business for Easter. Roast lamb or mutton would not be served in our home. Mom would order a veal-and-kidney roast as well as a pound of beef. "Calf meat is half meat. If the gravy is supposed to be tasty, then you've got to cook a piece of beef with it," Mom used to say, and this is the way she taught us.

We used to go to church on Good Friday in the morning. The day was holy. No work would be done then. Hannes Garms of Wellen Street would have supplied us with fish already. When we were lucky we would have eel or smelt. Mom would have prepared everything on Maundy Thursday, would have also peeled the potatoes. Holy Saturday used to be bake day. A large loaf of currant bread would be put into the oven. -- It was a pleasure to watch Mom working so efficiently and competently. Children, house, garden, field and animals ... she was on top of everything, without a washing machine, ["howling broom" =] a vacuum cleaner, an electric stove and all the other things that make house work easier these days. We children never noticed that she was overburdened, and she was; I know that now. -- The torte would be baked last.

Oh, it used to be just lovely when I was a child! Ducks and hens used to take out their young. The water in the ditches was still healthy at the time, so the ducks would take to the water with their young right away. There was still life in the ditches. In the evening, when they would return from their outing, Mom would still scatter some food, but oftentimes they would be so full that they did not touch any of it. But the hens with their chicks would have to get some oatmeal three times a day. They would look for grubs in the yard and underneath the bushes. I was particularly fond of our sheep Lene [= Marlene]. At Easter time she would always have one or even two lambs. Lene would know when I showed up. That is when she got a treat. Oftentimes I would have a slice of black bread or an apple in my apron pocket. But my most favorite animal was my cat, my Bumann [= Boogieman]. I still carry her deep in my heart. At Easter time she would always have a big belly and would be close to giving birth to her young.

But the most important thing on Holy Saturday used to be the Easter fire on the river Est/Este. The young men would gather wood behind the dike on the meadows. The great, big heap would be set alight at dusk. The entire neighborhood would be sitting together by the dike. At the same time people would light an Easter fire on the other side of the Est/Este, in Hoov'/Hove. The flames could not be allowed to become too tall, because the houses used to be still thatched with reed. My parents' house has a thatched roof even these days. Old and young folks would sit together and would sing our beautiful German folksongs. Our neighbor's son, Walter Bars/Bartels, had a harmonica and we had our voices for all those beautiful songs that hardly anyone knows these days or that many people consider old-fashioned even. An hour later when the fire had died down we would go home in good spirits and would be looking forward to Easter.

Mom used to hide our Easter nests underneath the currant bushes. There would not be a lot in the way of sweets. Mom used to die the eggs brown with onion peel. Sometimes a pair of white socks or a pencil case would be lying in the nests. That was plenty. We kids would be happy. We used to be delighted with the flowers in the garden, in the meadows and on the dike. What color that was! It's beyond description. Too bad! We have lost a lot in these hectic times. If Easter could only once again be as our poet laureate J. W. Goethe described it for us in his [German] poem "Easter Walk"! This is how it ends:

Big and small would whoop with glee,
"I'm human here, here I may be."