Mother, I will.”
As I left the room I felt Mother Superior had understood what was going through my mind, and my wish not to change schools. I suddenly felt a bit more optimistic about my future. I’d still be able to remain friends with Ursula and Hennie and some of the other girls here.
Chapter 4
I woke up early on my birthday, and stripped my bed in the dormitory. “I’m going home today, I’m going home today,” I sang to myself. But where is home? My excitement was mixed with trepidation. Will there be a birthday cake and a present for me? Will Papa have remembered?
Saturdays were half school days. I had trouble concentrating in class, but finally the bell rang. I ran from the class to the dormitory to collect my few personal belongings, and change into my own clothes. I skipped down the steps, and almost knocked Sister Geertruida down the stairs.
“Marijke, please slow down. You know you’re not allowed to run down the stairs or in the corridors.” But she didn’t sound too annoyed, she had a half smile on her face.
“Sorry Sister.” I tried to hide the excitement in my voice, but not very successfully.
“I believe you’re leaving us today. Oh, by the way, Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you Sister.”
“Maybe we’ll see you again some time.” Oh, I hope not, I never want to come back here again. I knew the nuns were good to us, but I never ever wanted to come back here, ever!
“Go have your lunch and your Papa should be here soon to take you home.”
I walked to the dining room, and gulped down my sandwiches and a glass of milk.
After prayers I said goodbye to the other girls and headed for the front door. I was the first one there, but was soon joined by my brothers and sisters. I hadn’t seen them yet that morning, and they all wished me a happy birthday. Papa walked in a couple of minutes later. Mother Superior wished us all the best and we walked outside. Yes! I’m going home AND it is my birthday.
We caught the tram to Amsterdam South, and then we walked about five minutes down a wide street before we arrived at our new home.
I looked around to familiarise myself with this new area. Opposite was a kindergarten and playground, with high steel fences and gates. Before opening the front door, Papa told us that when he and Mama were first married in 1942 they had lived in this street. Willie and Ann were both born there before the family moved to Amsterdam North at the end of the war.
This was the first time I’d heard Papa talk about Mama since the day she died, and I choked up.
Papa opened the front door and we all climbed the two flights of stairs up to our new apartment. Of course new apartments were really renovated old apartments. These were some of the ones that didn’t get damaged in the war. It all felt strange, and a chill ran through me. I didn’t want to go inside. Mama wouldn’t be there waiting, like she had always done in the past.
Papa opened the door and let all the others in, but told me to stay outside. “Just a couple of minutes, we’ll call you inside when we’re ready.” The door closed behind him.
As I stood there I felt confused, scared, excited and angry. Angry that Mama would not be there when the door opened. I was confused about my feelings and emotions.
“Today is my eleventh birthday.” I said out loud, trying to cheer myself up. I stood there and waited for the door to open to let me into my new home and new life.
“OK Marijke, you can come in now.”
I tentatively walked through the door into a hallway and then another door which was being held open by Papa, into what was obviously our new lounge-room.
As I walked in the familiar strains of Happy Birthday started up. Everyone sang in full voice and Willie was holding a birthday cake with eleven burning candles.
Aunty Jos was standing at the back of the room holding a parcel, also singing along.
After three cheery “hip, hip hoorays,” Ineke gave me a kiss on each cheek, as was the Dutch tradition; wished me Happy Birthday in her sweet three year old voice and handed me a little bar of chocolate. Next was Lidy with a small packet of colouring pencils, and so on. When it was Willie’s turn, she lowered the cake so that I could blow out the candles. Papa came over with Aunty Jos; they wished me Happy Birthday; gave me the traditional kisses and handed over the wrapped parcel.
I opened it carefully, and saw a polished wooden box. I ran my fingers across the beautiful wood, then opened the lid and found a lift out compartment. Underneath were a couple of reels of cotton, and in the compartments some needles, pins, a thimble and a pair of scissors. My own sewing box, I felt very grown up with such a present and thanked Papa and Aunty Jos. She had a gentle smile on her face “Do you like the sewing box Marijke?”
I didn’t have to lie, something I was well known for when it suited me. I really liked the box, as I loved sewing, knitting and crocheting.
Aunty Jos went to the kitchen, which was at the back of the apartment, and brought back orange cordial for everyone. The cake was a delicious chocolate cake, and Papa carefully cut it into eleven wedges, with one piece bigger than the rest, which was served to me first as the birthday girl.
I relished the cake and the attention I was receiving. Since the day Mama received her last rites I had not felt special, but right then I certainly did.
Sitting around the table Papa said that when we finished our cake he’d show us around the apartment.
I looked up and saw Aunty Jos looking at me.
“Are you enjoying the cake Marijke?” she asked quietly.
“Yes thank you, it’s really nice,” I said as I looked at her a little more closely. She looked older then the last time I’d seen her, which had been at Mama and Papa’s twelve-and-a-half year wedding anniversary. Although she was not beautiful, I thought she was quite pretty, but not as pretty as Mama.
Her short hair was dark and permed; she wore a floral dress, which was quite fashionable. She also wore a full length apron, just like Mama used to wear. I was soon to discover this was her standard dress mode whenever she was doing any housework.
Enjoying the cake, my sisters and brothers were happily chatting about being home, and wanting to explore our new neighbourhood. I joined in, and for a little while I felt happy.
“Now everybody,” Papa interrupted, “as I told you, Aunty Jos will come here at eight o’clock each morning, and go home after we’ve finished dinner. I need you to help her as much as you can. I know you can all do things around the house, because you did it for Mama when she was sick.”
Bang! I felt a sharp pain go through my chest. How can I be sitting here enjoying my birthday? I had forgotten about Mama for at least half an hour. Guilt overwhelmed me. Papa mentioning Mama had brought me back to my reality, and I wanted to cry.
Papa continued, “Aunty Jos and I have made up a roster of your chores, so there’ll be no misunderstanding of what’s expected from each of you. We can talk about that tonight.”
