Monday, February 8, 2010

Vignettes #50


The first years after having emigrated to Germany my sister and I spent most of our time after school with our German grandparents, since our parents both had jobs and worked till in the evening.

My German grandmother ('Oma') was a horribly pious Catholic and very active in all kinds of organisations within our parish like the woman's club and the so-called old folks' club. Besides having to join her on her daily church attendance (praying the rosemary) we also were forced to attend all those club meetings, while my pals were out having a great time playing.

Our Oma was second chairman of the old folks' club which consisted of about 200 old people from the parish. She was in some kind of competition with the first chairman, so one afternoon during Advent I was to recite a Christmas poem, since the first chairman's grandson would be doing the same.

Well, this kid, maybe 9 or 10, about a year younger than me, did his poem extremely well with no faults and with all the expression and pathos the folks liked to hear. I instantly hated this kid.

Then it was my turn, and although I usually am quite good at learning things by heart, I got stuck in the midst of my recital. My Oma who stood next to me was obviously embarrassed and annoyed and handed me the text to read the rest of the poem. And all those old people were shaking their heads in disbelief.

Despite not having wanted to disappoint my Oma the incident did have one advantage for me: I never had to attend one of those meetings ever again.

No comments: