Fifteen years in a childhood paradise

It was not easy to get the fire started, as we had forgotten the paper. When it was burning, we put the pot with the soup on three large stones, and in no time it began to boil.

"It must cook for at least half an hour," was Günter's comment, "but mind it doesn't burn at the bottom."

"I'm not stupid. Don't worry." I was quick to reply. By now it was clear that the youngest, that was me, had to do the cooking. I was glad that I had been helping Klärchen in the kitchen many times, and to make sure the porridge didn't get burnt at the bottom I had stirred it many times.

With a long-handled ladle I kept stirring vigorously. Soon it began to smell of lovely pea soup, and the others were coming over, as they were getting hungry.

There was one big problem, though: "How am I going to get the heavy pot off the fire?" I wanted to know.

"Easy, get a pot holder on either side of the handle, and then just lift it." "But we haven't got any pot holders!"

After a bit of head-scratching, Günter proposed: "We have to get the fire away from under the stones, then we just ladle the soup into our bowls."

After the others helped with that, and the soup was evenly divided, I burnt my tongue, of course, too eager to taste my own cooking. It was delicious, and the others said so too, which pleased me greatly.

Cleaning up was no problem, as we just stuffed the dirty dishes together with the pot into a cardboard box.

"Frania will do it," said Bernd confidently, and we all agreed. As we had been busy eating our meal, dark clouds had blown in without us noticing it. Suddenly there was lightning and thunder and we all looked up noticing a black thunder cloud right above our heads.

"This looks ominous," said Horst, "we had better secure our tent, so that the wind won't blow it over."

Before he had even finished saying that, a gust of wind blew over us, taking with it dried leaves and dust and the ashes from our fire, swirling it around us and giving us all a real fright. We huddled together in the tent, holding on to the rope that secured the door flap. Then all hell seemed to have broken loose, crashing of thunder and continuous lightning. I seemed to be feeling safe in the midst of my cousins, maybe feeling just a little uncomfortable. One clap of thunder came almost simultaneously with the lightening.

"That was close," said Günter. "Would anyone like to go and see where it struck?" Horst asked wryly. No one volunteered.

"Then I'll have to go and see for myself," he said, and he left the three of us wondering what we would have to do.

It was not long before he came back again. "A whole wheat stack is on fire, just a couple of hundred meters from here. Come and see."

13