A Writer's Journey 2
I knew nothing about writing a book in 1983. My mother’s letters to her family were in Swedish, a language I had never studied. All my formal education from age five to twenty-one was in British English. (I will share more about my language journey in my upcoming book.) So when I received the box of my mother’s correspondence, I was surprised at how easily I could take in not just the words and sentences in the Swedish language but also her feelings when she wrote those letters. The oldest letter was registered in England in 1931. The last was in Indonesia in 1977.
I’m not sure I even planned to write a book at the time as I flipped through the letters. Instead, I typed out the most familiar stories she had shared. I had forgotten many of her spoken stories, but as I read, they came alive. I realized I had received a priceless treasure through her correspondence.
Since both my mother and I lived in Helsinki at the time, I took along some pages each time I visited her. I realized I must write a book about her life. She was reluctant at first when I suggested writing that book. She said she had done nothing worth noting about. I persuaded her to let me write it as I had found so much value worth sharing. Finally, she agreed, on the condition that everything I wrote must pass through three gates. Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?
She added, “Nothing can pass through the third gate. It is not necessary to write my story.”
I insisted, “It is necessary! I must write your story.”
At last, she gave her permission and helped me by filling in more information where some stories in the letters led to new questions.
The cover of my first book Anna’s lamp, about my mother, published in 1984.
More than once, some letters brought tears to my eyes. One of them was from 1952. My grandpa had died in Finland. Our family lived in Ceylon (Sri Lanka.) She wrote to grandma; Lisa cried when she understood he had died. She asked, “Why didn’t we go to Finland earlier so I could have met him too?”
The next day, after reading those words, I felt comforted by the thought, grandpa had followed us with his prayers through the many years of our journey. He read my mother’s regular detailed letters. He could see and feel what I saw and felt from her words.
Then the reality of the words in Psalms 121:8 became more evident than before.
“The Lord keeps watch over you as you come and go,
both now and forever.”
God watched over us all the time, exactly where we were.
(The story of my mother’s journey around the world with five kids can be ordered from: https://booklocker.com/books/8211.html, as well as all Webb bookstores worldwide.)
To be continued.