Liberation and the end of the war in Europe brought many changes to my young life. I was allowed outside to play with other children on my street. I learned very quickly that playing freely with children my age was a lot of fun. There were games of hide-and-seek, and jump rope with lots of laughter. At the age of five I discovered a childhood social life.
My mother was happy too. As the liberation was drawing nigh, my mother was feverishly sewing. She had managed to collect enough red, white and blue cloth to sew together a Canadian Union Jack to hang out of our window. She was sending a message to the Canadian liberators that said "WELCOME and THANK YOU! The Canadians liberated Holland and within their numbers were many young men from the Ottawa area that either knew of my mom or were told to look her up by friends and relations. Canadian soldiers were turning up regularly to visit, sleep over, have a meal (that they provisioned from their rations) and generally check up to see if Florence and her family needed anything and were were OK.
One day, as I was playing with other children, a Canadian soldier walked up and asked in English
"Does anybody know where the Hogenkamp family lives?" He said he had little hope of anyone understanding but asked anyway. A small voice in the group piped up in perfect English, "I do, that's my house". He was Uncle Jimmy (I suddenly had a lot of Canadian uncles) a second cousin from the Ottawa valley. He offered candy bars to all the children, but they refused to take them. We had been so indoctrinated to refuse anything offered by a soldier during the occupation, that when the Canadians first arrived, we wouldn't take stuff from those soldiers either. I turned to my playmates and in perfect Dutch I told them it was OK to accept treats from this soldier. He was so impressed that when he went back to the Ottawa valley, the bilingual exchange became part of family folklore.
Through these visiting servicemen, my mother's family learned we had survived and were well.
They had not received a letter or heard a word about us for three years. They were overjoyed to discover we were still alive. Visits from these wonderful Canadians brought food, laughter and a lot of English conversation into our home. I don't know how long these Canadian visits continued, or how many there were but I do remember that time as very happy. My parents were light hearted and very merry around the house. It was a good time for us all.
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About Me
- kingmisha
- I'm bigger than a pile of breadboxes, but smaller than a Sherman tank. I'm overeducated, underpaid but very content with my life. I have loved infrequently but intensely. I dated a poet, divorced a Dean, had an affair with a jazz pianist, was engaged to a diplomat, and widowed by my child's father. The men in my life were all very special. Not all grand passions but much loved in their time: Leonard Cohen, Alfred Pinsky, Billy Horn, Wendell Goodin, and Elliot Hirschman. Thanks for the memories... I'm a lapsed artist which doesn't really trouble me because I'm a very successful parent. I lacked the requisite conceit to persevere as an artist. I just couldn't make myself believe that my art came before my child. The world really doesn't need another sculptor (even a good one), but it does need another good human being. It can use all the good human beings we can turn out. I present Mambolica as my evidence so judge for yourselves.