Fifteen years in a childhood paradise

Christmas 1938. Fräulein Parr had taught us to work with ply-wood, and also how to carve wood. We were again sitting in our dining room and thinking, what we could make for Christmas for our parents and grandparents.

"What are you going to make for Vater and Mutter this year?" I asked Günter while I was still wondering whether I should make a little jewellery box out of ply wood or a calendar mount.

"A holder for note paper to put on his desk for Vater and a candle holder for Mutter."

Günter was always sure, whilst I liked to do something more challenging, but then lacked the courage. To make a jewellery box required a lot of patience, and needed detailed work. The pattern had to be drawn onto the ply wood and then with the jig saw the lines had to be carefully cut out, then smoothed with sand paper, the wood stained and finally lined with a contrasting colour felt.

"I'm going to make the jewellery box," I decided. "Do you think the green felt will look nice as a lining?"

"Depends on what colour you are going to stain the wood." "Dark brown, I thought."

"Yes, that will look nice." The first panel went all right, but with the second a leaf in the pattern broke off and left an ugly gap. I couldn't repair it, so I had to start again. Eventually I finished it, after working at it for several nights. "Doesn't this look beautiful," I admired my own work. "Yes, Dieter, it does look very nice. Mutter should be pleased with that," said Günter.

His approval was very important to me.

*

Christmas is so full of wonderful memories. I was rocking again on my horse. It was so nice to dream of the time when I still believed in Father Christmas.

A couple of days before Christmas Mutter called us: "Get me some moss, and some stones, children. Make sure the stones are not too small. Like my fist, or double that size."

We were pleased to be useful, for we knew that this too was part of the Christmas preparations.

We never saw the christmas tree brought into the house. We firmly believed that Father Christmas did all that. About two days before Christmas Eve the doors to Mutters lounge were locked, all three of them. Sometimes we would call out through one of the closed door: "Father Christmas, sound the bells please!"

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