I sit with my own first novel in hand and be amazed.
I am amazed by a single sentence. A sentence that most of my readers will probably read over completely without thought - what was granted them.
But today I just touched this one sentence deep, deeper than any other sentence in my book. He's pretty far back, in fact, almost at the end.
And it is this:
suspended after the birth of her fifth child, she her robe on the nail to be able to devote herself entirely to her had grown to a size XL extended family.
That's part of my biography. And of course I know this rate for some time, but it is something like this on my home page on publisher pages, somewhere in the blog profile.
I've always thought of when reading the robe, the attorney's that I really like hanging on a nail and a light heart.
Only today I realized the enormity of this proposition in mind: ... after the birth of her fifth child.
And I suddenly felt infinitely rich, infinitely grateful. Five pregnancies, all the problems completely, five births, each exciting in itself, each of which is an adventure, it alone would be worth writing a book about it, each a piece of heaven. Sure, a to give birth to a child is stressful and always associated with pain. But still I look back here in five wonderful births. And each time it was a bit as if to open doors between worlds that are otherwise closed.
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| Twenty years ago ... |
And then? Quietschgesunde five children. Of course, one more beautiful than the other ;-) Each to cast its way.
My first child, my daughter is in this month 20th
twenty years and I am wondering where is the time gone? It seems to me that it only yesterday was like this tiny fragile girl who followed later, four more than powerful brothers, lying on my belly was.
My youngest child still visits the kindergarten. And even if many do not understand the can, I am very grateful that I still have so much time to get used to letting go of the other children. Because I have to let go of course each one of them, which I am aware of.
Today I found in another blog a letter again, I have long ago one of my kids glued to his native diary. A letter from a writer who has been with me since my childhood:
Astrid Lindgren. Who would have
can write better than the miracle of birth, the gift and also releasing a Day?
why I will show you the letter here and I wish especially to the mothers of you a nice day!
letter to my son
of Astrid Lindgren
My son is in my arm. He is such a delicate little load, they hardly feel it. And yet it weighs heavier than earth and sky and stars and the whole solar system. If I should die today, I could take the memory of this sweet little burden with me in paradise. I have not lived in vain.
My son is in my arm. He has so little, small hands. One has closed around my finger, and I do not dare to touch me. He could release it, perhaps, and that would be intolerable. Such a sky wonder this little hand with five tiny fingers and five small nails. I knew that children have small hands, but I have not understood quite well that my child would have such. Because I lie here and look at the little rose-leaf, which is my son's hand, and can not stop is to staunen.Er with closed eyes and pierced his nose into my chest, he has black, fluffy hair, and I can listen to breathe. He is a Wunderwerk.Sein father was here and found also that he was a marvel. So he must be a miracle, because we both find it. My love for him almost hurts.
while ago my son was crying a little. Like a pathetic bleating kid he behaves when he is crying, and I almost can not stand. How vulnerable are you, little kid. My little bird, how to protect yourself? My arms close more tightly around. They have been waiting for you, certainly my arms, they were from the beginning for you, a nest to be there for you, my Vögelchen.Du are mine, you are mine now. At that moment, you're all mine. But soon you will start to grow. Each day that passes is up a little Further piece of lead away from me. Never again will you be my jetzt.Vielleicht as close as I'll think of a day with pain at this hour: "Like the plaintive strings of a violin, like a Kiebitzruf on the heath people's desire for people to go through the world inhabited by people . At the most humble and deepest but the parents long for the children, who were called by the laws of life in other contexts. This is in a book that I habe.In that moment you made me be sure, but the laws of life also call up in other contexts. And then I might be as a calling Lapwing on the heath and in vain to get my bird. The young bird will grow and large. I know it must be so.
But now, at this moment, I have you. You are my, my - with your fluffy head and your delicate little fingers and your pathetic crying and your lips, looking at me. You need me because you're just a poor little child that came down to earth and can not be without a mother. You do not even know what kind of a place where you have come, and maybe your crying sounds so so lost. Are you afraid to start life? You do not know what to expect? Shall I tell you tell?
Here there so much remarkable. Just wait, then you will see it. There are flowering apple trees and small, quiet lakes and big, wide ocean and the stars at night and blue spring evenings and forests - it's not nice that there are forests? Sometimes frost is on the trees, sometimes the moon shines, and summer is dew on the grass, when you wake up. Then you can click on your little bare feet to go there. You can glide along narrow, lonely ski trails in the woods - if it is winter of course. You'll love the sun, it warms and lights, and the water in the ocean is cool and lovely when you bathe. There are fairy tales in the world and songs. There are books and people, and some of them are your friends. There are flowers, they do not have useful, but beautiful. Is not that wonderful and glorious? And all over the world there are forests and lakes and mountains and rivers and cities you've never seen it, but maybe one day you will see. Therefore I tell you, my son, that the earth is a good place to live, and that life is a gift. Never believe those who say something different to try. Of course, life can also be difficult to conceal from you that I will not. You will have troubles, you will cry. There may come hours, because you have the desire to live no more. Oh you'll never understand what a feeling it is for me to know this. I could give my all for you, but I can not one away from the concerns that await you. And yet I say unto you, my dear child: The earth is home to the people, and it is a wonderful home. May the life never been so hard on you, be sure you do not understand it.
God bless you, my son!
Astrid Lindgren
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