A GERMAN GRANDMOTHER
Frieda Brand drove carefully along the rutted farm road leading up to her parents' farm.She soaked in the view. It had been a while since she'd visited.The cherry trees were in bloom and they formed a fairy tale avenue of candyfloss.Even Willem and Karl, Frieda's little boys were quiet as they gazed out of the windows.The bowl of mountains welcomed them to the fruitful Ceres farm.
"Welkom, welkom," Frieda's mother Ida greeted them from the spacious and cool veranda. She still spoke with a German accent after all these years. The little ones were out of the car in a flash. Frieda retrieved their bags and followed. The boys had disappeared already, but she knew where they'd be. Sure enough, Willem and Karl were seated at the generous kitchen table, a cookie in each hand.
"So, you have come at a good time," Ida announced as she bustled around, putting the kettle on and arranging more goodies on a plate. "This time of year transports me back to the Bodensee, to Friedrichshafen. Oh, you should have seen the cherry trees and the plum trees." Her eyes sparkled." And there was always the lake, blue-green; and boys, you would have loved the swans! Always looking for bread. I fed them as a girl."
"Did they bite you granny?" Asked Carl, who wasn't too keen on Ida's geese.
"Oh, no, Carl.They were so friendly. Even a little boy could feed them."
Ida joined them at the table, her bright, blue eyes merry." I miss feeding the swans.But of course, when I met your grandfather, I had no choice but to come here."
"It must have been hard for you to make such a big change." Frieda touched Ida's hand fondly."I can't imagine."
Ida nodded, remembering. She had been Ida Hillenburg then. Jaco Van Rensburg had come over on business. She was working at her parent's hotel which was situated alongside the Bodensee. Jaco's business kept him there for several months. She and Jaco fell in love as they took walks along the promenade, feeding the swans and dining at quaint restaurants.
Jaco walked into the kitchen at that moment and the boys catapulted themselves into his arms. Frieda rose to hug him and any sadness Ida felt was soon forgotten. The kitchen was once more filled with activity. She ordered everyone to have another cup of coffee and relax. She needed to get started on the special supper she was making. Two jars of cherries stood on the counter awaiting her pie shells. Frieda smiled and settled in for a chat with her Dad. She knew her mom well. Ida worked so hard: always making sure everyone was happy and well fed. Frieda decided that no one was going to stop her from cleaning up after dinner. Maybe her parents could relax with the boys while she helped.
******
Later on, once the children were tucked in under one of Ida's quilts, she and Frieda enjoyed a cup of red bush tea. The porch swing rocked gently and the stars shone above as only countryside stars can do. Even now, with the day's work behind her, Ida's hands busied themselves with her latest knitting project. She and Jaco were both in their sixties, but they still played an active role in running the cherry farm alongside Frieda's brother Jaco Jnr. Frieda admired her parents. She envied her mother's seemingly boundless energy and productivity. No one could cook and bake like Ida could and Frieda couldn't remember a time when the rusk or cookie tins were empty. If only she could be like her mother. She sighed. With a husband and two active little boys to look after, she often felt like she fell short. Ida heard the sigh and her needles stopped clicking. " Frieda," she said, "I've been watching you today; and the boys. I just wanted to say, you're a wonderful mother. And Willem and Karl are turning out so well." She took Frieda's hand in her own." If I can give you some advice honey, don't be so busy like I was when you were growing up. Enjoy those little ones. Enjoy time with God. Life passes so quickly. I've always been a bit of a Martha, you know. I've been thinking, it's time I spent more time at Jesus' feet like Mary did." They sat quietly rocking. Frieda was thinking about her mother's words. Wise words. "Thanks Mom, that means a lot to me. I'd like to be more like Mary too." She said softly.
Do you ever wish you could live in Germany again?" Frieda asked, remembering their earlier conversation in the kitchen.
Ida smiled and shook her head. "No. Everything I love is here in Ceres. God, your father, you and Jaco and the grandchildren. And I have mountains and cherries. I am blessed." She picked up her knitting again whilst the sweet Boland evening settled gently around them carrying with it the nostalgic scent of cherry blossoms.
The End
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