Lessons Learned in the Old World

As as American (one who was especially interested in history) I studied and ready about the Holocaust. In high school, a survivor of this monstrosity came and spoke to my school. Reading, listening and understanding as much as I could about an event however, could not have possibly prepared me for going to a place where people deliberately planned and implemented programs to subjugate and slaughter their fellow human beings. Walking along the tracks that led to Dachau, looking at the clothing that inmates were forced to wear in the concentration camps, gazing up in absolute horror at the hideous propaganda that was unleashed by the Reich - it was a heart wrenching experience.  Germany is a beautiful place, the land is some of the most beautiful I've ever seen. Reconciling this pastoral environment against the nightmare of the "final solution" proved elusive for me, at least for this visit. The horror and the loss of an entire people (over 90% of the entire Jewish population in Germany were killed) is too terrible to even comprehend and cast a chilly, somber pall on my adventures. Being mistaken for being a Muslim while in some parts of the country and experiencing a surprisingly scary amount of hostility simply because of my skin color made me realize that even with a lesson as terrible as this one, there will always be idiots who fail to learn from history and are hellbent on perpetuating the same atrocious acts of unkindness against our brothers and sisters.  

This picture was taken in the crypt of the Berlin Cathedral. The angel is sitting in Jesus' empty tomb and saying, "HE is not here, HE is risen." My testimony of the Lord's goodness and mercy was strengthened on this trip. Boo and I went to a church in Berlin that has systematically been attacked, first by the Nazi's then the Communists. There was a hallway where pictures of church members (some priests, most members of the congregation) who had either been imprisoned or murdered as a result of their beliefs or because they had tried to help their neighbors. People of all ages, both male and female, rich and poor gave up their lives for something that they believed in and as my sister and I worshiped in the church, nicknamed the upside down teacup, we both felt very strongly that their sacrifices, hopes and works had been accepted by the Lord and that these brave people had truly lived up to the scripture in 2 Timothy 4:7 " I HAVE FOUGHT THE GOOD FIGHT, I HAVE FINISHED MY COURSE, I HAVE KEPT THE FAITH."

This is St. Martin in the Fields, a church in London that was built by Henry VIII so that people who were suffering from plague and needed the attention of a priest wouldn't come into contact with the main population of London. This was were the poorest, and sickest of the populace went for succor and was, literally out in some fields. Growing up, we all listened to classical music that was performed in this place, or by the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. To me, this place, this name, was synonymous with good music (especially Mozart and Bach) and also my father. He was very particular when buying tapes that he would find something that had been recorded at St. Martins and would reply, when asked why his preferences ran the way they did, that "It's the best...that's why." So, it was with a mixture of Joy, loneliness, sorrow and a bittersweet sense of peace, that I sat and listened to an absolutely amazing performance (Baroque Style -that was beyond brilliant).  I couldn't keep my eyes dry. My heart was overflowing, from a wonderfully poignant mixture of passionately performed music and the knowledge that the man who had helped instill in my a love of this type of music wasn't sitting beside me on that wooden bench. It broke my heart in a way and reminded me, how fleeing and fragile life is and how we can't take a musical measure or day beside a loved one for granted.

What can I say...DENMARK IS AMAZING! My mother's family and husband's family comes from this country and I felt an immediate kinship with the land. Denmark reminds me very much of my mother and husband. The people are kind, hardworking and have a great sense of humor. The building style is brilliant - simple in statement, perfect in form. Clyde's family were, based on the lands they lived in, quite the adventurers. (fjords, fjords and more fjords, all along known viking settlements) After feeling the delightfully salty, cold sting of sea spray and being thoroughly buffeted by the wind, I felt that they must have been very strong and resolute as well. I felt very much at home here, and am determined to take my family back next year so that they too, can gain a better understanding of where they are from and why being aware of your past helps you appreciate your present and look forward to the future. Denmark is cold, wet and as green as Oz. I think of our ancestors going from this beautiful place and ending up Arid, dusty Sampete county and just want to cry for them. How lonely they must have been, not having the sea, rich black soil and beautiful green trees to shelter them from the elements. Not being quite as tough as my fore bearers, I would have taken a return train back to Denmark or somewhere a little greener and nicer.

Adventures to Europe are always nice. Being on an adventure with your sister....is a delightful dream come true. Boo and I have very different personalities, but they blend very well. She is such a dear friend and I am so lucky that I had the chance to spend time with her and get to know her better. I LOVE YOU, REBECCA!

Finally, a word about tea and scones. My heavens - they are addicting. I think there is a scone loving gene in my DNA that has emerged upon my nibbling and sipping this fantastic culinary concoction in London and Bath. It's a part of my heritage, a wonderful crumbly nibble of family history that I am having fun replicating and passing on to my children. England, even more than Denmark, because I am already pretty familiar with it, is home to me. I know the land and it knows and welcomes me into it. 

This happy breed of men people, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,

Richard II - William Shakespeare