Chapter 10 Razor Blade

Saturday, February 15, 1969

It was Fastalavn. This holiday is similar to American Halloween. In Denmark, the children went door to door. Instead of getting candy, we got coins. You knock on doors, and instead of saying ‘Trick or Treat,’ we sing a song called ‘Fastalavn Er Mit Navn.’

We would begin at 9:00 a.m. and go from door to door, ending at noon. When Sander and I got up, we were excited to get dressed up and get going.

We went to wake Mom up so that she could help us get ready.  Mom said she didn’t feel good and stayed in bed.

Sander and I put on whatever we could find to make ourselves look dressed up. Before I went out the door, I grabbed my pig, which I used for collecting coins. I showed it to Mom and said, “See this pig? It’s going to be full by the time I get back.” Then off we went door to door. Sander said I was going too slow, so he ran off with his friend, leaving me by myself.

I didn’t like going by myself. I was scared, but I wanted money. I had decided to buy Mom a gift, something to help her feel better. I tried to go as fast as I could to get as much money as possible before the clock struck twelve.

When it was time to stop, I went down to the curb and counted up the money I had collected. Then I walked to the store. When I got there, I looked around forever, trying to find just the right gift for Mom. I spotted a glass bottle of milk that said, “Milk, it’s Good!” I thought if Mom drank it, she would feel better. I bought the bottle and headed for home.

When I got home, I rang the doorbell. I held up the bottle of milk while I waited for Mom to come to the door. I said, “Mom, this milk is for you, to help you feel better!” Mom laughed as she grabbed the milk. I hoped she would like it because it cost me almost all the money I had collected that day.

Summer 1969

For Mom’s summer vacation, she had planned to go with Bent to visit his parents in Skive. Sander and I were sent to a summer camp with the after-school center for three weeks. The camp was located on the island of Bornholm in Denmark. When it was time for bed, we all slept in one large room that had numerous bunk beds.

I had always sucked two of my fingers to help me fall asleep or to help me feel better. I was afraid someone would find out, so I waited till I thought everyone was asleep. Even though it was hard to wait it out, I managed to do it the first few nights. It got harder and harder, and I fell asleep waiting. I was surprised to discover I could fall asleep without sucking my fingers.

July 7, 1969

I turned eight. The caretakers had everyone stand around the Danish flag and sing Happy Birthday to me. Then one of the workers handed me a present from Mom, and the rest of the day was just like any other day at camp.

The teachers told us we would be having an Indian party on the last evening of our camp.  We colored paper vests to get ready for this special night. The teachers talked so much about our preparations that we were filled with excitement.

When it was time for the party, we put on our homemade paper vests. As we sat around the campfire, the workers handed each of us a cup. They told us it was an Indian potion. I tasted it but didn’t like it, so I never drank the rest. Neither did most of the other kids who were there.

Sander and another boy instantly took a liking to it. They walked around the campfire asking each child if they could have their drink. When Sander and the other boy had drunk everyone’s drink, they still wanted more. One of the caretakers said that if they wanted more, they would have to see the Indian Chief. The Chief was one of the counselors who also dressed up as an Indian.

The Chief gave Sander and the other boy as much to drink as they wanted. As the evening progressed, all the caretakers and Sander, along with his friend, were having a good time drinking. They all started to act silly.

Then all of a sudden, Sander and his friend passed out on the ground. I tried to talk to Sander, but he was in a deep sleep. I got worried, so I asked one of the caretakers what was wrong with Sander and his friend. Most of the caretakers just laughed. Then one of the grown-ups said to me, “Oh, they just need to sleep it off. They will be okay in the morning.”

The next morning, Sander and his friend had a terrible headache.

On the last day we were at camp, the workers informed us that the bus was there to pick us up. We were told to hurry and take a shower.  I asked one of the caretakers why we needed to hurry and why we just couldn’t forget about taking a shower. He told me it was because we had not had a bath in the three weeks we had been at camp. They didn’t want us to return home looking and smelling the way we did.

Since the bus was waiting for us, the teachers told us there was no time to be shy. We all had to get undressed and go into the shower together.

There was a room with four showerheads in it, and we were all herded in there.  The caretakers watched to make sure we washed. We were all embarrassed to get naked. We were Boys and girls, ranging in age from seven to twelve. Some of the older kids tried to protest. A caretaker assured us it was OK and that we had to hurry because the bus was waiting to take us home. Even though it felt wrong, this was just how it was growing up in Denmark. 

When I got home from the camp, and it was time for bed, I was about to suck my fingers to go to sleep. I realized at camp that I was able to fall asleep without it, so I never did it again.

August 1969

A few days after we got back from camp, Sander went outside to play with his friend. I was by myself. Mom had told us we were never to go into the medicine cabinet and touch the razor blades. Now that I was alone, I was curious to peek at them. I wanted to see what the big deal was about the razor blades.  I took one and held it in my hand.

After I had looked at it for a few seconds, I thought, I’d better put it back. As I did, it brushed against my arm. The next thing I knew, I could see the bone in my arm. I had cut my arm deeply. I hadn’t felt anything because the blade was so sharp. 

I was terrified! I closed the wound with my fingers and held it, praying it would magically heal. Then I grabbed a roll of gauze from the medicine cabinet and wrapped it tightly around my arm to keep the cut together.

To my relief, it worked!  I hurried and cleaned up the blood. Luckily, most of it had landed in the sink. I managed to get it all cleaned up! I was shaking all over because I was afraid Mom would come home from work sooner than expected. I was even more terrified of what she might do to me for disobeying than I was about getting cut. When Mom came home, she never noticed my cut and had no idea what had happened to me.

For a few days, I kept a long-sleeve shirt on, so Mom wouldn’t see my arm. It was summer, so I was worried she would get suspicious as to why I was wearing winter clothes. To my relief, she never even questioned it.

A few days later, my arm started to throb and turn dark purple. I opened the gauze to look at the cut. It looked like infection had set in, and it did not look good! I ran cold water over the wound and applied clean gauze. I was nervous about getting into even more trouble since I had not shown Mom what had happened to my arm.

I panicked. I was sick from worrying about what might happen to me. I knelt and told Heavenly Father what had happened to my arm and that I knew I had disobeyed. I asked the Lord to please heal the wound because I was terrified of what Mom might do to me if she found out. As I prayed, I trembled with fear and hoped He could hear me.

I prayed for a long time. As I prayed, I felt I was not alone. A peaceful feeling came over me. My arm stopped throbbing, and it didn’t hurt as much as it had when I started the prayer. I was afraid to take off the gauze. My curiosity got the best of me, so I looked. I was surprised to see that my arm was almost back to its normal color.
 
I kept my arm in gauze until the cut healed. I kept a long-sleeved shirt on for a very long time afterwards. Since Mom never helped me when I showered, she never noticed the cut. And when my arm was exposed, she never questioned the awful scar.

Because of what happened that day, I learned there is a higher power. I know what I saw and what I felt that day was real. I had experienced a miracle. No one can ever tell me otherwise!

During my life, I have often wondered why Heavenly Father hasn’t always answered my prayers. I have concluded that what happened that day was meant to help me know that He is there. He is aware of me, even if my prayers aren’t always answered the way I would like.