We have not seen any rain in the past couple of weeks, making it the driest fall in our region. Of course, the blue sky and bright sunshiny days are most welcome, especially now, as the trees are showing off their autumnal dresses. Recently, I discovered a snail climbing up the vinyl siding of our house. I took it and placed it on a rock to observe its behaviour. The firs reaction as expected was that it withdrew into its shell. In the meantime, I found another rock that looks like a massive mountain when shot from a close distance. When the snail figured it safe to crawl out of its shell, it accepted the challenge like a courageous mountain climber to cross the canyon between the two rocks. Enjoy.
In August 1956, our parents sent us to a summer camp in Bergneustadt, a beautiful town in the forested hills close to Cologne. A charitable organization sponsored us for refugee children from the east. Like many of my classmates, the prospect of having a real vacation away from home seemed exciting at first. But then separation anxiety from my parents took hold of me. Eventually, my mother succeeded in persuading me to go. My brother didn’t appear to have mixed feelings and was eager to leave for new adventures.
The big, bright youth hostel was nestled in the forest. There were many children our age, about 10 to 14 years old. We slept in large dormitories. It reminded me of the refugee camp in Aurich. I felt intimidated by the crowds of strange children, especially the boisterous teenage boys. There were a few bullies who made life miserable for some of us. They verbally abused us and were physically rough when we played unsupervised games. These boys mercilessly teased us and gloated when they saw that they had upset or hurt us. The group leaders were overwhelmed by the many kids in their care. They often overlooked or did not seem to notice these negative behaviours. Since I was timid, I did not dare to complain; I suffered silently. We did some exciting excursions to the Aggertalsperre (dam at the river Agger) and the Atta limestone caves. We hiked in the beautiful natural surroundings. Nevertheless, I felt increasingly homesick. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I withdrew even from girls who were trying to be friends with me.
I have wonderful memories of the time I spent with Angelika at her loving home. Her parents would do anything to make life after school pleasant for us. They’d take us to fancy pastry shops, and we could choose the delicious cakes and sweets for our afternoon snacks. After we completed our assignments we would sit on Angelika’s bed, our feet dangling onto Torro’s warm fur and we would talk and daydream and joke around, laugh and giggle. Her mom and dad seemed to like to hear us laugh and giggle.
One morning in school Angelika was missing. Mecki told the class that she was very sick and would not be in school for a while, I was shocked. She seemed fine the day before. My mother looked very concerned when I came home and told me that I could not visit Angelika because she was too ill.
I was very worried and missed her terribly. Finally one day my mother told me that Angelika’s parents wanted me to see her because she had asked for me. Angelika’s mom looked pale and thin. She took me by the hand. “Please, don’t tell her how shocked you are when you see her”, she pleaded. In spite of the forewarning, I was shocked. Angelika was lying in her bed. She had sores all over her skin and mouth, and she looked very pale. But she managed a small smile in greeting. Her eyes even sparkled a bit. She told me that she had a severe blood disorder and needed a bone marrow transplant. But now she was on the road to recovery. She told me about all the strange things she had to eat to get better. “Next time you come you have to try sprouted wheat”, she told me. When I told her stories from school, she even managed to laugh a little. “The sores in my mouth still hurt a bit”. she said, but she seemed proud that she had overcome her illness. “I could have died, but I made it”.
Angelika’s father worked here. Photo Credit: Pinterest
Every day I visited her after school, and I could see how she was getting stronger. But she never came back to school. Another shock was waiting for me. Angelika’s dad was being transferred to Wolfsburg where the famous Volkswagen was manufactured. They would be moving soon.
One day I talked to my mom about this, and she told me Angelika’s story, which offered a possible explanation.
Angelika’s parents married very young, towards the end of the war. Her mom was still in medical school studying medicine when she became pregnant. Angelika’s dad was fighting at the front.
Angelika’s mom decided to put her newborn daughter in a foster home to get her back when her husband returned, and she had completed her studies.
For four years, Angelika lived in foster care until she was finally reunited with her parents. Trying to make up for a lost time, they showered her with love and attention, but Angelika did not seem to return their affection. She was reticent, almost withdrawn and easily upset. She avoided social interactions and did not like to play with other children. Her parents were overjoyed when Angelika finally developed a close friendship with me. Angelika was capable of closeness and affection with other human beings.
Angelika never talked about the time she spent in foster care. But she often told me that she always wanted a sister or a brother; she envied me for having a twin brother. She thought I was never lonely and had always had a close friend. I did not want to shatter her illusion, but at that time, my brother and I didn’t love and appreciate each other.
The Peter and Gertrud Klopp Family 