TToT: European Sensibilities

Last night I attended the annual Holocaust Remembrance Service at our local temple. Afterwards, I went through old photographs I took during our visit to Dachau Concentration Camp in Germany.  I also ran across this Ten Things of Thankful post I wrote shortly after that visit and decided it was worth a second look.

Ten things the Europeans reminded me for which I am grateful…

SUVs and huge club-cab vehicles are a choice, not a necessity.

Water should be preserved.

(Run off from the mountain is captured in Salzburg, Austria.)

A person should walk—for his or her own good as well as the planet’s.

Beauty all around us improves life.

(Konstanz, Germany)

You make yourself rich, by keeping your needs few. (Apologies to Thoreau who said this better.)

             (Sweet little home amid multi-storied buildings in Lindau, Germany)

Honor those who have gone before you.

(Every grave we saw in Germany and Austria was immaculately kept no matter its age.)

Laugh much.

          (Top of a carousel at the Christmas market in Friedrichshaffen, Germany)

Celebrate what you have.

       (Scene on the famed Glockenspiel of Munich depicting a dance celebrating the     survival of those who made it through a dread disease that devastated the city.)

Do not let the past define you.

(Dachau, Germany Concentration Camp)

Make your faith known.

(Church in Liechtenstein)

Prayer from last night's memorial service...

Fully Compassionate God on high:

To our six million brothers and sisters murdered because they were Jews,

grant clear and certain rest with You

in the lofty heights of the sacred and pure

whose brightness shines like the very glow of heaven.

Source of mercy:

Forever enfold them in the embrace of Your wings;

secure their souls in eternity.

Adonai: they are Yours.  They will rest in peace.

Amen

TToT

TToT: Things I Remember

Sharing more photos of the Glockenspiel in Marienplatz, Munich, Germany.  Memories of this place will always be among my favorite.

I have been thinking about the concept of memory this week.  My brother and sister-in-law are planning a trip to the Grand Canyon soon and called to get pointers about what we saw there a couple summers back.  Unfortunately, mere hours before we left for the Canyon, a large roll of school bulletin board paper fell on my foot, badly breaking my big toe.  As a result, I saw the Grand Canyon through the fog of pain medication.  It wasn't until the conversation with my brother and his wife that I realized I really have no memory of the Canyon itself.  I am sure it is very pretty, but couldn't swear to it in a court of law.  I could say with certainty that there is a bench up top that provides a great perch for mother and daughter to talk while others hike.  There is a mini-bus that takes you to different spots near the edge to give you the best views, but somehow the image of the mini-bus is much clearer in my mind than the views we must have enjoyed.  Memory is a funny thing.

I read the book The $64 Tomato this week written by one of my favorite authors, William Alexander.  In the closing Alexander writes, " Things I remember: Witnessing childbirth.  Finding myself standing absolutely alone before DaVinci's The Last Supper.  And planting potatoes on a perfect spring morning.

And so "in memory" of things I have already forgotten and celebration of things I can still picture clearly,  Here is my own (ten) Things I remember...

I remember spilling an entire bottle of orange soda--back in the days when the bottles were thin, and tall, and glass--down the front of my new, pristine white turtle-neck.  I remember crying as my mom slipped it over my head and into sudsy water that made the orange go away.

I remember Mom, my brothers and me crowded around the front screen-door watching a rare downpour in our dry prairie town.  The creek across the street, filled to overflowing, rushed through the City Park and across town.

I remember the first time my heart was broken, and the boy who did the breaking.  

I remember snow, wet and cold on my cheeks,  as I flew downhill on an old wooden sled.

I remember moving back to my hometown for a semester while waiting for my soon-to-be husband to finish college.  I remember sitting at the dining room table with my dad, him telling me it means so much to your mom having you here in these months before you get married.

I remember marrying that young man and being so choked up I couldn't say my vows.  

I remember waiting for a baby for so long, and finally holding a test in my hand that said she was on the way.  I remember the sheer panic of worrying I could never be the mother she deserved.

I remember seeing her face on a sonogram one week and looking down into that same face for real the next week, and being numb as the reality set in that this small creature was really mine.  I remember what it is like to feel the blossom of love unfold and grow inside your heart instantaneously.  

I remember nursing another baby and being startled by big brown eyes instead of green gazing back at me.  I remember those same brown eyes sitting beside me on a bench atop the Grand Canyon so I wouldn't be alone.

They say you can tell a lot about the qualities of a man by the way he treats his mother.  I remember a son who has been by my side when I have experienced loss and has gathered me in his arms and shown me comfort.

All of these things I remember and I am thankful.

Originally published Feb. 2016.  I don't have photos of all the places that have recently experienced violence, but I did have these pictures from Munich.  Thinking of all who have been touched by senseless brutality as of late.  Hoping for better.

Glockenspiel, I Love You

Write about a crush you had...

Last Christmas our son took us to Munich saying we just had to see the Marienplatz with its Christmas Market and beautiful Rathaus. As we approached the area which is in the center of the old city, the tower of the Rathaus caught my eye as he knew it would.

These photos were  taken in those moments just before I fell in love.  The shed-like structures temporarily held merchandise for the Christmas Market.  The Rathaus pulled me forward with its tall, graceful tower. I was beginning to feel the charm.

We wove our way deeper into the holiday market.  As we neared the center courtyard of the Marienplatz, I found myself stealing meaningful glances at the Rathaus.  All at once I saw the darker open area in the tower about the height of the roof line.  I couldn't help but stare.  This is when my son knew the moment was right... Glockenspiel, meet Mutti.  Mutti, Glockenspiel.

It was love at first sight.  I was completely smitten with the mechanical wonder of this oversized music box.  Built in 1908, life-size pieces of art still dance and joust daily in scenes that tell the history of the land.  The Bavarian knight rides off in victory on the upper level, while coopers optimistically dance a defiant jig below signifying that hope remained even in the face of the plague.

This guy has it all--music, art, history and engineering--everything a nerdy girl like me could want.

And so it was, my traveling companions would lose sight of me every afternoon long about five o'clock while we were in Munich.  Whether in line at the Christmas Market or finishing a bite to eat at a restaurant, off I would dash in a heartbeat. I'd head out to the Marienplatz camera in hand, jockeying for the best view of the mechanical show.  I would stand transfixed on the cobblestone plaza not hearing a word anyone said to me while the figures danced and spun overhead.  Each time I saw the Glockenspiel in action was as exciting as the very first time.

Alas, I wasn't meant to stay in Munich long-term.  The time arrived for me to say goodbye to this architectural beauty and its amazing musical feature.  I walked away, but not without more than a few backwards glances.

More than a year has passed since I first heard the bells and watched the coopers turn in unison. Still, my feelings remain just as strong.  I will be back again someday, Glockenspiel! You can count on that.