The Story of Andy Kjearsgaard
Dad enjoyed telling us stories and always they were humorous. He made some of them up, others were Molbo stories, and still others were Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales. We kids competed to sit on his knee, our favorite spot. All the while, Mom was busy knitting or sewing, ear tuned to the storyteller.
Daily Devotions
Every day after breakfast we had morning devotions. Dad read an appropriate scripture verse and then we'd all sing a Danish hymn. We kids became pretty good singers, especially my sisters.
Maintaining Order
Dad was a disciplinarian, but a fair and understanding one. I'm the first to admit that when I received a licken in the form of hand to bottom, I deserved it. Except once.
Our first home had one bedroom with two beds: one for Mom and the girls and the other for Dad and the boys. One night Dad and my brother Arne had already gone to bed, so I started crawling over them to reach my place against the wall. Suddenly, Dad reared up, grabbed me, and gave me the worst licken ever. I hollered blue murder while Arne looked on, smirking.
I never got up the nerve to ask Dad the reason. Had one of my secret escapades been uncovered? Like the time I put pepper on the furnace at church, causing a sneezing epidemic in the middle of Pastor Nyholm's sermon? Or the time Mom and Dad were away and I wore my brand-new Aladdin-style church shoes in the rain? Had they found the shrivelled, pointy-toed monsters I'd created by drying my wet shoes in the oven?
That licken's a mystery to this day. When I meet Dad in heaven, my first question will be––Why?
Adapted from the 1994 Heritage Book,with permission from the Federation of Danish Associations in Canada
Teaser:
• Where will the kids go to school and how will they get there?
