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Chapter 9
Adopted Guilt
While still
lost in memories in Harburg, I ignored Alex and Maus and automatically
walked up the hill. Now feeling depressed over the memory of the guinea
pig and Alex hitting the dogs, I couldn’t help but cry. The past was
present, the time in between ceased to exist and everything I felt was now
as real as if it just happened. How could I have existed all those years?
I asked myself. How could I carry around so many depressing thoughts? How
did they affect me? So many questions I couldn’t find the answers to, just
as I couldn’t find them at the time they happened.
Even going to
church didn’t help me find the answers to my problems back then, but only
added to my confusion.
Sometimes I
was allowed to attend the confirmation classes which were held by our
pastor’s wife. The more I learned the catechism, the more guilt I felt and
believed the Lord would not allow someone like me into heaven. I must have
broken almost all of the ten Commandments. I truly tried to live up to
them and it wasn’t always my fault if I didn’t.
There was one
Commandment I couldn’t live up to, “Honor thy Mother and Father”. I
thought these Commandments must be for children whose parents loved them.
Then there
was “Thou Shall not Steal” Commandment. I wondered if that applied if your
parents made you steal? I tried to find an excuse to defend my wrong
doing. I wondered what would have happened if I had told my parents no?
Would my
brother and I have been driving a car without a driver’s license when we
weren’t old enough to have one? Our parents forced us to drive, like
common thieves, in the middle of the night to steal firewood. My mother
told us where to go and to convince our school friend to use his father’s
van. We took the key while his father slept.
I remember
telling Nigg what I had learned at the confirmation class about stealing.
He got very quiet, then said, “If there is a God who knows everything,
then he knows we don’t want to steal.”
He didn’t
make me feel better or even take my fear away. He didn’t seem to
understand what I’d said to him.
He also said,
“Do you have a better way to heat the stove so we can cook?”
I gave up
hope that our parents would change. At the time it never occurred to us
that children normally didn’t provide for their parents.
Stealing got
easier. And we got better at it; it even calmed our father down.
Nigg said,
“Maybe we don’t have to steal much longer, I heard Mother and Father
talking about some kind of export and import business with a Turkish man.
Now they are looking to find 1000 marks to invest.”
As I thought
about my upcoming confirmation I thought of the dress I was supposed to
wear. I’d already asked my sewing teacher if she would help me make it and
she promised she would.
I knew my
teacher liked me. She told me I was bright and had much talent. I designed
my dress, burgundy velvet, with many little round pearl buttons on the
front. All girls in our class constantly talked about their dresses and
the shoes they would wear. Heidi got two pair; red patent leather that she
would wear on the introduction day to the congregation the day before, and
a black pair with velvet bows, for confirmation. Her red shoes were a
dream and I wanted a pair just like them.
Confirmation
is the most important day in a Lutheran child’s life. It was also my last
year in high school and signified my first step into adulthood. What I
liked most was that from that day on, we were authorized to use “Ms” in
front of our name. After confirmation, girls were allowed to wear high
heels. We were also allowed to have a boyfriend.
In order to
be confirmed, we had to attend church at least twice a month. Of course I
had to fight for it every time I wanted to go.
One Sunday I
was lucky; neither of my parents were home and wouldn’t be back for a
couple of days. It was like a holiday for me!
I met Heidi
in church.
Heidi said,
“I’m going to see my boyfriend right after church and I would like for you
to come with me to meet his brother.”
I knew why
she asked me, she needed an alibi and would like to get rid of her
boyfriend’s brother. That was all right with me. “Okay.” I agreed, “but
only if I can wear your red shoes.”
I told her I
had found an old-style Scottish red pleated skirt and had altered it to be
tight and short and I would wear it. She hesitated for a moment, and I
knew she was trying to tell me her red shoes were only for introduction
day.
Heidi sneaked
into her house so she wouldn’t have to explain anything to her
grandmother, and got the shoes for me. I went home and changed into my new
skirt, a tight black sweater and those shiny red high heels.
“Wow.” Heidi
said, “You look stunning, so grown up. I know his brother will fall in
love with you.”
Since we
still had some time before we were to meet the boys Heidi said, “Let’s
walk up to the theater and pass by the market square, all the big guys are
hanging out there.”
When we
reached the square Heidi hesitated, “Let’s walk very slowly, pretending we
are looking only at the movie advertising.”
When we
reached the corner a whistle concert started. I felt good; I liked it when
the men whistled at us.
“You see,”
Heidi prodded, “I told you.”
We sauntered
past the market place, walked to the theater and stood there discussing
which movie we should see. One of the guys came up to us and asked where
we were going. Heidi proudly let him know that she had a boyfriend she was
going to see. I wished she wouldn’t have told him about her boyfriend
since I would have liked to have talked to him a little more. I guess he
felt brushed off, because he left.
I was
impressed with Heidi’s boyfriend’s brother, Werner. He was good looking.
He had the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen. He also had better
manners than the other guys in town. It was love at first sight. I was
flattered when he thought I was sixteen. As we walked on the road leading
out of town he told me of his plan to learn engineer drafting and that in
a few years he would be an architect and wanted to build bridges. That
impressed me. I was sorry when Heidi said we had to go back. But Werner
and I agreed to see each other again.
One week
before confirmation I still didn’t have a dress. I made up my mind that I
wouldn’t go to confirmation if I had to wear one of my every day dresses.
The Friday before confirmation my godmother took me to the beauty shop for
my first perm. I told her to save her money I was not going because I
didn’t have a dress.
“Yes, you
have,” she said, “your mother got the dress Margit was wearing on her
confirmation.”
Oh no, I
thought, Margit’s confirmation was six years ago. And when I saw the dress
my worst nightmare came true. I would run away before I had to wear the
ugly thing.
Saturday
before confirmation all the confirmants were tested in front of the
congregation with questions from the Bible. My girlfriends looked so
pretty. I was the only one wearing a regular school dress.
Confirmation
day was even worse. The church was crowded and there weren’t enough
benches and chairs so people stood at the side walls. I looked like an old
farmer’s wife. My godmother was the only family member in church. My
parents never attended anything important in my life. Not when I was
nominated for the having the best art of the year, and not now. My father
said he had no time for modern rubbish, and mother wouldn’t waste her
time.
Godmother
came over to where all confirmants were gathered and tried to encourage me
by saying how I looked like a real lady. My borrowed two piece black
velvet suit, I thought, was embarrassing. The skirt hung all the way down
to my ankles, while the other girls wore short skirts. The jacket sleeves
were too long, and the skirt too wide. My mother even tapered the skirt
with safety pins but I had the feeling I would lose the skirt if I walked
too fast. I stuffed cotton into the shoes, which were a size too big. I
felt awful and was on the verge of tears. This was supposed to be my day.
One of the
girls in the back row tapped my shoulder and asked where my parents were.
I was saved when another girl answered, “They are with their youngest in
the Catholic Church now, don’t you know this? They want to have it both
ways to heaven, but I know they will not make it, especially not their
mother.”
My mind
screamed, why hadn’t I run away like I planned? It would have spared me
the pitying stares of my school friends and the shame of the rumors that
were bound to spread.
After the
church ceremony, all confirmants gathered in the church garden for
pictures. Heidi asked me, “Is this the dress you made?” Not without a
little irony she ended by saying, “Let’s stand next to each other when the
pictures are taken.”
When the
photographer placed us in the front row I told Heidi, “I don’t want my
picture taken in this dress, I will stay in the back row.” I didn’t want
any memory of the terrible day and that ugly dress.
Family
members arrived from everywhere to lend support to the “new” adults, and
wish them a good start for their future. People talked and laughed and
enjoyed being happy. Undecided about what I should do, I walked over to
the side entrance. I watched large groups of families walking home to a
long planned and prepared meal. Mothers served the best on this special
day. Fathers proudly acknowledged the confirmants’ achievement. Some
people were very poor but they all had a special lunch and a family gets
together.
I stood on
the church steps daydreaming and didn’t realize everybody had gone and
that the streets were empty. Where do I go? I wondered. I wouldn’t have
any visitors at home and no one would prepare a special meal.
As I walked
down the church hill, tears filled my eyes. I held my head down so no one
would see. I am not worthy of something special, I thought. I have no
right to ask for anything.
Nobody even
noticed when I got back from church. I sat in my room deep in thought
about how useless my life was. Then my mother came in and said, “Get out
of those clothes, we have no money to have the dress dry-cleaned before we
give it back. After that go start peeling potatoes.”
I had three
gifts. My godmother sent me a set of towels that my father took with the
remark, “These are mine; nobody else can use them.”
I received
money, but mother never told me who sent it. I didn’t even know how much
it was because it was used for something, but not for me. A week later
when I was writing thank you notes, I found out someone had sent me a
satin tablecloth. My mother returned it to the store.
A week later,
Sunday, Nigg and I were on the road again to collect money. This time we
had to drive into the same town where Grandpa lived with his cousin. Nigg
and I decided we weren’t going to collect the money and be embarrassed
again. We would go visit our grandpa.
The first
thing grandpa asked was, “Did your mother send you?” He seemed happy to
see us.
We told him
she didn’t know we were there.
Grandpa said,
“Your mother only shows up when she needs money.”
The aunt
where grandpa lived fixed us something to eat and we all sat around the
table. After a while grandpa asked me how my confirmation was and if I had
a nice dress to wear. I told him about the dress. He got very sad.
“What did
your mother do with the money I gave her for you?” He asked.
When we asked
how much he had given her he said, “I told her not to use your money for
anything else. I gave her 1000 marks as a gift for you and 500 marks for
your new dresses and two pairs of shoes and enough to pay for a formal
luncheon in a restaurant.” Grandpa got up and paced up and down, then
finally said, “I will change my will, she will not get a penny more. I
will put you two in my testament so you’ll have something when you are 21
years old.” After awhile we had to leave and grandpa gave each of us ten
marks and made us promise to use it only for ourselves.
My mother
condemned every person who was not willing to give her money. She turned
against her own father after he sold the house and told her she would not
get any more money. Slowly, people turned away from her. The people in the
town said that she had ruined her own father’s honorable name.
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