Chapter 13 Canada

Secret Vacation 

I was excited to go on a vacation with Mom and Beth. I felt I would explode if I didn’t tell someone about the secret trip. I was also afraid that if I told someone, and Mom found out, she would change her mind about bringing me. I managed to keep the secret! 

Off to Canada. Wednesday, July 7, 1971 (My 10th Birthday) 

When it came time for our “vacation,” we were told Mom and Beth would come later. Mom said she had to stay behind and finish up some things. Mom and Beth went to the airport to see Bent, Sander, and me off.  

When we arrived at the airport, Sander thought about calling the police. He asked Mom if she was sure we would only be gone for three weeks. Mom promised. Sander felt reassured, so he never followed the instructions Dad had given him. As Mom kissed me goodbye, she apologized for not getting me anything for my birthday. She wished me a Happy Birthday and said she would see us again in a couple of weeks. 

Sander and I were both eager to visit Canada. When we boarded the plane, Sander and I both wanted to sit in the window seat. Sander said, “How about I get to sit in the window seat on the way to Canada, and then in three weeks you can sit there when we go back.” Since I believed we would be coming back, I thought it sounded reasonable and agreed. 

Life in Canada, July 7, 1971 

When we landed in British Columbia, Canada, it was still my birthday because Canada was eight hours behind Denmark. I felt special because not everyone gets a birthday this long. I couldn’t wait to get back and tell my friends all about the longest birthday ever. 

When we got off the plane, Bent took us to an ice cream store, where he let us pick out a cone. I didn’t eat much of my ice cream because it tasted so different from the Danish ice cream that I was used to. 

Then Bent took us to a department store where he told me I could pick out a birthday present. I picked out a tiny doll chair because I hoped to have a dollhouse one day. 

From there, we went to Bent’s house. It was in Vancouver, B.C. When we got there, he took us to the attic and showed us our rooms, where we would be staying. The walls were made out of thick cardboard. It smelled terrible in the attic.

Bent showed Sander his room. It was huge. Then he showed me my room, which was just across from Sanders. It was tiny, but I didn’t mind. I was excited to have my very own room for three whole weeks. 

At the time, I didn’t know I would be spending an awful lot of time in there, confined to my room. Neither did I know just how unbearably hot the attic could get without insulation. It didn’t take long to find out. Often, I have a hard time falling asleep at night. I felt like I was sleeping in a sauna. 

The next day, Bent was excited to take us for a drive in the mountains. Sander and I had never seen mountains before. Denmark is a flat country with only hills. I didn’t care for the drive because it made me car sick, but I didn’t want to complain, so I didn’t say anything. 

The next few days waiting for Mom and Beth to arrive seemed to pass slowly. Sander and I met the kids who lived on our block. It wasn’t any fun playing with them since we didn’t speak the same language. When the kids found out we didn’t speak English, they started making fun of us. 

When it was time to pick up Mom and Beth at the airport, both Sander and I were excited to see them again. I was especially looking forward to seeing Beth. 

Now that Mom was living here too, Bent seemed to change his attitude towards us. When it was time for dinner, Bent said, “You kids have been used to running the show. Things are going to change, and you will learn that this is not a hotel I am running here. You are going to learn manners, how to behave, and discipline!” 

I didn’t understand what Bent was talking about. As we were about to eat, Bent divided the food amongst us. Then he said, “You are going to learn to eat lots of potatoes. Meat is expensive!” 

As we were eating, Bent told us how to eat.  When we got our food, we couldn’t just eat it. It had to be eaten a certain way. First, we were to take a bite out of our potatoes and then our vegetables, and last, a small bite of our meat. When Sander had eaten his meat, he asked if he could have more. Bent got upset and answered very sternly, “You have a lot to learn, Kiddo! I told you this is NOT a hotel that I am running.” From then on, we were to eat our food as instructed. If we didn’t do it exactly that way, we would get yelled at. It was all so confusing, so it didn’t take Sander and me long to figure out how to cut up our food, mix it all together, and eat it that way. This way, we wouldn’t get into trouble. 

The next day, we were introduced to peanut butter. Being from Denmark, I had never seen or tasted it before. To me, it looked and smelled gross. I tasted it, and to my horror, it tasted even worse than I could ever have imagined. I felt like my mouth was glued shut, and it took forever to swallow it. Bent bought peanut butter by the bucket. It was cheaper that way. 

Our food was limited. Sander and I were to have only powdered milk. However, Mom, Bent, and Beth drank real milk. The powdered milk was so gross – nothing like the real Danish milk that we were used to. Mom could never thoroughly mix the powder, so it was always lumpy. 

We were to drink this milk with this puffed cereal. It was a strange cereal. It had no flavor, and when we poured the milk on it, it seemed to shrink into nothing.  I always thought it should be used for wrapping things, not for eating. We were told we could have one cup of cereal and half a cup of powdered milk to go with it. If we were still hungry, we could have one more cup of cereal, but we would have to use the same milk from our first bowl. Since Sander and I didn’t want to go hungry in the mornings, we soon learned to accept this breakfast. 

This became our daily routine. If Sander and I were still hungry in the evening before going to bed, we could have a peanut butter sandwich. When I told Bent that I didn’t like it, he responded, “You snot-nosed brat. I told you this is NOT a hotel!” I finally got so hungry that I ate this sticky stuff. It’s amazing what you can get used to eating when you get hungry enough. 

Bent had a car, but he wouldn’t drive Mom to the grocery store. He said it was a waste of gas. Sander and I had to go with Mom and carry the food home. It was a long walk, and we would get tired. Since our fingers would get sore from carrying the bags, we would take 10 quick steps and then stop to rest. Then we would take another 10 quick steps and stop to rest. This was how it went all the way home from the store every time we went. 

Back then, all the items had price stickers. As soon as we got home, we had to peel off all the stickers from the groceries, or Bent would get upset when he saw how much something cost. 

We were told we could never shower, but were restricted to a bath once a week. We were to put only about five inches of water in the tub. Then Bent made a permanent mark in the tub with his pocket knife so we would know how much water to pour in. He told us we were to use the same water to wash and rinse with. At the time, it didn’t sound too bad. I was even happy that we only had to bathe once a week. 

When I became a teenager and got my period, this became a problem. Mom never seemed to notice how much water I used. I learned to take baths when Bent was not home. This way, I could rinse off and avoid getting into trouble. 

It was apparent that our stepfather did not like us. I think he tried at first. He seemed to love Mom and Beth, but it was obvious that Sander and I did not fit into their family. 

When our three-week vacation ended, both Sander and I were eager to get back to our old routine in Denmark and, best of all, to see our Dad, grandma, and all our friends again. Sander and I went to our stepdad and asked when we were going home, since it had been at least three weeks since we arrived. Bent got a worried look on his face, and then he said very quietly, “Ah, you’d better talk to your mother about that one.” 

We eagerly went to see what Mom would say. After we asked when we would be returning, she tilted her head back and laughed. It was an eerie laugh. Then she looked at us in a very harsh way and asked, “You really didn’t think we would sell everything just to go on a three-week vacation? Don’t tell me you are really that stupid?” It was as if she mocked us for being so trusting. 

I felt sick to my stomach. I was in shock. A panicky feeling went through my whole body, a feeling of sadness, mixed with betrayal and anger. To think we could never go back, and this was to be our fate.  I never got to say goodbye to my dad, grandma, or any of my friends. All the feelings I felt cannot be put into words! Now I wouldn’t get to sit in the window seat on the airplane going back. A million thoughts went through my head. 

I knew Grandma knew where we were because she sent us letters, but I wondered if Dad knew what had happened to us.  I told Mom our dad would be looking for us, but he didn’t know where we were. Mom said we had a new life now and a new dad. This was to be a family secret, and no one was to know that our stepfather was not our real dad. We were never to talk about our dad again, and we were to forget about our past in Denmark. 

Later, when Sander and I were alone upstairs, I asked Sander if there wasn’t some way we could get back to Denmark. Sander told me we would find a way back, even if it meant walking. 

Getting Lost 

After we had lived there for a little over a month, the lady across the street from us came over with her two girls, Vicky and Lexy. She asked Mom if her two girls could take Sander and me on a bus ride to see downtown Vancouver. Mom declined the offer since Sander and I didn’t speak a word of English. The lady insisted that her girls would take good care of us. Sander and I were excited about the idea, so we pleaded with Mom to let us go. Finally, Mom agreed to let us go with them. 

Mom handed Vicky and Lexy some money for the bus ride. She explained to them that Sander and I didn’t know a word of English and asked them to promise to stay close to us and take good care of us. The girls reassured Mom that everything would be fine, and off we went. 

Sander and I were excited to get to know these two girls and spend the day with them. Even though we couldn’t talk to the girls, we did our best to communicate with them. When we were really far into Vancouver, the girls motioned for us to get off the bus. The girls got off the bus with us.  While we were walking around, looking at all the stores, the girls suddenly ran in two different directions. Sander and I tried to follow them, but it was no use. At first, we thought they were playing a joke on us. Then, when they did not return, we realized that we were lost. 

I suggested to Sander that we try to find a policeman to help us. Sander said, “First of all, we couldn’t tell him we are lost since we don’t speak English.  Second, we don’t know our address.” Then I suggested we go to the nearby phone booth and call Mom. Sander then explained that we had no money and that, since we had not lived at the house long, he didn’t know our phone number. I suggested that we call the operator and have her help us. Sander was starting to get annoyed with me. He said, “How do you suppose I get her to help us, since she doesn’t speak Danish, and I don’t speak English?” It was then that I realized we were in serious trouble. It seemed strange to be surrounded by so many people and unable to ask anyone for help. I wanted to run up to someone and ask for a policeman, but I knew they wouldn’t be able to understand me. 

I started to cry. Sander told me to pull myself together. I suggested going a certain way. Sander grabbed me by the arm, and he slapped me really hard across the face. He told me to let him be in charge. This was the first time Sander had hit me since we had left Denmark. I knew how violent he could get. I did all I could to remain calm because I did not want him to start hitting me again. 

As calmly as I could, I asked Sander if we could say a prayer and ask Heavenly Father to help us find our way back. Sander agreed to it. He looked around for a spot where we could be alone to pray. After the prayer, we stood there for a while. Then Sander said, “Let’s go this way.” I told him that the most logical thing was to try to go back the way the bus had taken us. Sander said the bus had taken too many turns for us to retrace its route. He seemed frustrated with me again. I was afraid he was going to start hurting me again, so I said a silent prayer asking the Lord to help Sander find the way we needed to go so that we could get back. A peaceful feeling came over me. I felt the Lord would show Sander the way we were to go. 

Meanwhile, back home, Mom looked out the window and saw the two girls run down the street and into their house. Mom walked over to their house to ask them where Sander and I were. No one answered their door. Mom kept knocking. Finally, the mother came out. Mom asked her where we were. The lady replied, “Maybe this will teach you, foreigners, to go back home and stay where you belong!” Then she slammed the door.

Mom went home and called the police to report what had happened. The police told Mom that there was nothing they could do until 24 hours had passed. The officer mom spoke with on the phone told her that if her children weren’t home after 24 hours, she could call back and file a missing persons report. Mom pleaded with the man on the phone, but he just repeated, “Call back in 24 hours.” 

Bent was working up in the mountains, cutting stone. Getting a hold of him would be impossible. Mom wanted to go look for us. Beth was 11 months old, and Mom knew it would be impossible to walk around while carrying a baby. Mom did the only thing she could do: she went to her knees and asked the Lord to help us find our way back. 

Sander and I walked for a long time. I started to wonder whether we were going the right way and whether we would ever get back to Bent’s house. Just then, we came to a pond. Sander said excitedly, “Do you remember this pond?  We passed by it when we came from the airport, going to Bent’s house.” I didn’t recall ever seeing a pond. But I was encouraged by Sander’s excitement. Sander and I circled the pond because there were two streets, one on each side of the pond, and he wasn’t sure which one we had driven on, so he didn’t know if we were to go left or right. The pond was large, and we were getting tired and hungry. We both started to feel hopeless again. We sat down to rest. 

As we sat there, we wondered what we should do next. I said another silent prayer. As we sat there hoping something would happen, Sander looked off into the distance and all of a sudden he shouted, “Do you see that?! Do you see it?!” He started jumping up and down with excitement. I looked, but I couldn’t see what he was looking at. Then Sander began to run. I ran to keep up with him.  While I ran, I shouted, “What is it? What do you see?” Sander responded, “Don’t you see it? It’s the sign from the laundry mat!” I knew there was a laundry mat close by where we lived, but I had never noticed a sign. As we ran, I saw lots of signs, but I still didn’t know which one he was looking at. At this point, I didn’t care; I was just glad that Sander knew which way to go. 

When we got back to Bent’s house, Mom was happy to see us. We knelt together. Mom said a prayer, thanking Heavenly Father for helping us find our way back. We knew we could not have done it without His help. 

I will forever be grateful for the guidance Sander and I received that day!

Going to school - September 1971 

When summer was over, and it was time for Sander and me to start school, Mom went to the nearby school to register us. Mom was told that since Sander and I didn’t speak English, we would have to go to another school. It was a school where children from other countries were taught English. To get to this school, we had to take a public bus because no school buses were going that way. Mom took the bus with us the first day so we would know how to get there on our own. 

At the end of each school day, the teacher gave us a piece of paper with two dimes attached to it. One dime was to be used for the after-school bus to get home, and the other for the bus back to school in the morning. Sander and I had to go to two different classes. Sander’s class was for ages 12-14, and mine was for ages 10-12. 

It was scary walking into class on the first day. I was the only white person in my class besides the teacher. The other kids were mainly Chinese, Italian, and Indian. These kids could communicate with at least one other person in the class. Since there were no other children from Denmark, I had no one to talk to. When I needed to communicate with anyone in the class, I was forced to try to speak English. 

After school, there were other kids from our class that had to take the same bus as Sander and I. While we waited for the bus, we played on the school playground. The Chinese kids taught us how to say “the bus is coming” in Chinese, so Sander and I could take turns looking for the bus while the rest of the kids played. 

When we got home from school, Mom asked us if we had learned any new words, so we told her in Chinese that the bus was coming. Mom laughed, and then she said, “You are supposed to learn English and not Chinese.” Sander and I learned a few other sentences in Chinese and in Indian. 

At the end of each school day, when Sander and I waited for the bus, we would look at the dime that our teacher had given us. It cost a dime to get a candy bar, so we were so tempted to go across the street and spend it. If we were to spend it, we knew we wouldn’t have a way to get home. 

After a few weeks at school, Sander asked Mom if we could keep the dime and walk home. Mom said it was fine with her. Sander and I were excited to buy our candy bar and eat it as we walked home. It turned out to be a lot longer walk than we had expected, and by the time we got home, it had taken us over three hours. We had even run some of the way. Sander and I weren’t about to keep this dime again anytime soon. But we walked home twice more because we were so desperate for a candy bar. 

Waiting for the bus 

One day, while we were waiting for the bus, one of the boys in my class showed me that he had money. Then he pointed to me and told me to go with him across the street to the candy store. I went with him. When we got to the candy store, he pointed to the candy bars and asked which one I wanted. I was excited when I found out that he wanted to buy me something. I picked out the candy that I wanted, and then we went back to the bus stop. Then the boy said to me in broken English, “You, me, boyfriend, girlfriend?” I wasn’t sure what he was asking. Then Sander said to me in Danish, “I think he wants to be your boyfriend.” I got mad at the boy and said, “No!” as I kept eating the candy bar. I couldn’t believe that he would ask such a question of me. From then on, no matter how much I wanted a candy bar, I made sure to stay out of his way. 

Getting used to the kids in my class 

The kids from China had a distinctive smell from the spices they ate. The same went for the Indians, except their smell was different from the Chinese because they ate different spices. In Denmark, I was always taught to use a tissue if I had something in my nose. I was pretty sure they didn’t teach that in China because a lot of the Chinese kids were constantly picking their noses. I would look mad at them when they did that, and then I would shake my head “no” at them. Most of the time, it didn’t seem to bother them that I told them not to do this. They just kept right on picking their noses. All these children were so different from my friends back home. I wondered if I could ever get used to them and if I would ever have a friend. 

The teacher was very kind and seemed to take a liking to me. It didn’t take me long to become very fond of her. She was the only person who made it bearable to keep going to school. 

Stress attack 

One day, while I was in class, I started thinking about what my friends in Denmark were doing and whether they were wondering what had happened to me. I began to think about my dad, wondering if he had found out what had happened to us. I also started to wonder if I would ever learn this new language. Thinking about all this gave me a stress attack. I didn’t know what a stress attack was. I had never had one before. My heart tightened up, and it hurt. I thought I was having a heart attack. I started to cry. The teacher asked me if I was okay. I didn’t know how to tell her that my heart had tightened up and it was hurting. Then the pain passed. 

The teacher thought I was sick, so she had me put my head on my desk. She then arranged for another teacher to drive me home. I was embarrassed because by now the pain had gone away. I didn’t know what else to do, so I just kept pretending my stomach hurt. When I got home, the teacher told Mom I was sick, which was why she had brought me home. Mom asked what was wrong, but I didn’t know how to explain what had happened to me, so I just told her I wasn’t feeling well and that I was better now. 

When I got home, I played with Beth. I was happy to see her again and wondered what I would do without her in my life. As time went on, these stress attacks kept coming when I would start to worry too much. I found that if I just waited a while, they would go away again.

A new boy in class 

One day, we got a new boy in class. I was excited to see he was white like me. At recess, I ran up to talk to him, hoping I could communicate with him. This new boy was from Finland. I talked Danish to him. He looked at me, confused, then spoke to me in Finnish. My heart sank. I wanted to cry. To my disappointment, I realized that even though we were both white, we were not able to communicate with each other. Since he couldn’t talk to anyone either, we soon became friends. We did our best to talk to each other in our own ways, using hand gestures and drawing pictures.  

A map of the world 

One day, Sander brought a map home from school. We went into Sander’s room to see how we could walk back to Denmark. As we sat and studied the map, we could see it was a very long way back, and we would have to figure out how we could cross the ocean. We knew this would be impossible. However, we never stopped talking about it when we were alone. 
 
Even though I still didn’t speak English, a neighbor invited me to go swimming with her. When we got to the swimming pool, I was about to put my swimsuit on in front of everyone. This is what I was used to from Denmark. In a split second, my friend grabbed me, and before I knew it, I was standing in a little stall by myself. I couldn’t understand a word of what my friend was saying, but judging by the excitement in her voice and the speed at which I ended up in the stall, I realized that this was probably where my friend wanted me to get changed. This is when I started to learn about modesty. 

Going to bed without dinner 

We grew tired of having potatoes for dinner every night. Then Bent began telling us we needed to be punished. His method of punishment was to send us to bed without dinner. I think this was his favorite way to punish us, so there would be one less mouth to feed. It wasn’t that Bent didn’t have the money to feed us. I think it was because he didn’t like to spend money on us. We soon learned that eating potatoes mixed into our vegetables for dinner was better than eating nothing at all. 

I often cried myself to sleep at night. I missed my dad and grandma so much it hurt. The pain seemed unbearable to live with. 

Over the next few years, I wrote many letters to my dad.  I knew if I asked Mom for Dad’s address, she would get upset, so the letters were never sent. 

October 1971 

The teacher asked us to dress up for Halloween. I happened to find this costume sticking out of a garbage can. I made a hat and found some accessories to go with it. I had Mom help me wash it so I could wear it. I won first place for best costume.

November 1971 

As winter came, our bedrooms in the attic got colder and colder. There were times it got so cold that you could see your breath as you exhaled. I told Mom and Bent it was freezing in the attic. Bent told us to dress warmer. He also reminded us that we were nothing but snot-nosed brats and that this was no GOD-DAM hotel he was running! 

Sander and I started sleeping with our hats and coats on to stay warm. I dreaded getting up in the morning and getting dressed since my room was so cold. 

At the time, I was confused about why the attic was so cold, while downstairs, where Mom, Bent, and Beth slept, it was nice and warm.  I wanted more heat, so I turned up the heater when no one was looking. 

I was unaware that there were towels stuffed in the vents. It was to keep the heat from going into the attic.

 In the morning, I overheard Mom and Bent talking about how strange it was that the thermostat had been turned up so high. They woke in the middle of the night, sweating. Bent had rented one of the rooms in the basement to his friend, Hans. Bent and Mom decided that it must have been Hans who had gone upstairs and turned up the thermostat when no one was home. 

Bent then put a lock on the door to the basement so that Hans couldn’t go upstairs whenever we wanted to. I wasn’t about to tell Mom and Bent that it was me who had tried to get more heat to the attic. 

December 1971 

It was starting to look like Christmas everywhere we went. Sander and I asked Bent when we would be getting a Christmas tree. Bent answered, “Be patient. You, kids, are always in a hurry!” 

A week before Christmas, we were invited to Betty’s apartment. She was the lady who Bent had bought the house from that we lived in. Sander and I were excited to see all the food that she had put on the table for us to eat. We ate until we thought we would burst. While we were eating, Betty said, “I am so glad I sold the house to such a sweet family. The Lord told me to sell it to you. I sold it to you so cheap because I knew that you were the right man and now I see I did the right thing.”  I guess from the outside looking in we seemed like a nice normal family and Betty had no idea what went on behind closed doors. 

Bent would often brag to us about how cheap he got the house for. You would think that since he saved so much money, he could afford to buy food for us. 

A telegram 

A few days before Christmas, Mom received a telegram. It said, “Come pick me up at the airport today at 2:30 pm. Love Grandma.” Mom kept rereading the telegram in disbelief. I could hardly believe it myself. I thought I was going to burst with excitement. Bent didn’t seem too thrilled about it. 

It seemed like it was an eternity before it was time for Grandma’s plane to land and for her to come off the plane. What made it even worse was that Grandma never included the flight number she was coming in on or the exact time, so we waited at the airport for hours.  

After being at the airport for quite a few hours, Bent finally figured out which plane she was coming in on. It seemed like hours before Grandma came off the plane. When we had picked up Grandma from the airport, Bent took Mom shopping for groceries.  

When we got home, Mom asked Sander and me to switch rooms so Grandma and I could stay in Sander’s room, since it was bigger than mine. That night, the attic wasn’t as cold as usual.

Bent must have removed the towels from the heater vent while Grandma was visiting.

Everything seemed so much nicer now that Grandma was here. I felt it was a miracle I got to see Grandma. Now, I wondered if I would ever get to see my dad again. 

When I had brushed my teeth and was about to hop into bed, Grandma was sitting on the bed, crying. I asked her what was wrong. Grandma answered, ”I overheard the mean things you and Sander have said about me! Neither you nor Sander wants me here.” I tried to tell Grandma that she was one of the people I loved most in the whole world. No matter how hard I tried to tell Grandma it wasn’t true, she didn’t seem to believe me. It seemed her mind was made up. I was confused. At the time, I didn’t know Grandma suffered from paranoia.

It made me sad because I loved Grandma so much. I had even forgiven her for the time that she had chopped off my braids. Well, almost. 

 Thursday, December 23, 1971

It was almost Christmas Eve, and we still didn’t have a Christmas tree. Sander and I asked Bent if we could buy a tree.  Bent told us that there was a parking lot about three blocks from our house where a man was selling trees. He told us the man was no longer selling the trees and to see if any were left.

Sander and I ran to the parking lot as fast as we could. Bent was right: the man was no longer selling trees, and a couple of scrawny-looking trees remained that he had not been able to sell. Sander and I looked at the trees. They were both pretty sad-looking, but we didn’t care. We picked out the better-looking one of the two and dragged it home. Sander and I were so excited to finally have a tree. That was how we ended up getting a tree every year.

When we got home, we didn’t have any decorations for it. Grandma helped Sander, and I made a few homemade ones out of whatever we could find. As we were decorating the tree, I began to think about my cousin Linda and her family in Denmark. We had always spent Christmas with them. I wondered if any of my cousins in Denmark knew what had happened to us. I also thought about my dad. I was wondering what his tree looked like and what he was doing. This was going to be the first Christmas without him. I wondered if he missed me as much as I missed him. I wished I could send him a note to wish him a Merry Christmas, to let him know where we were, and to let him know we were okay.

Saturday, December 25, 1971

Grandma asked if any of us would go to church with her tomorrow. Mom had stopped going to church a long time ago, and she had never been to church since we moved to Canada. No one volunteered to go with Grandma. Then I asked grandma, “Why do you want to go to church when you don’t speak or understand English?” Grandma smiled and said, “I may not be able to understand a word of it, but I know this is where the Lord wants me to be when it’s Sunday.” I felt bad that Grandma was going to go to church alone, so I told her I would go with her.

Mom looked up the nearest Mormon Church in the phone book. She also found out what time it started.

Bent drove us to church. Once the meeting began, I didn’t understand much of what was said since I had only lived in Canada for 5 months. Grandma slept through most of the meeting. As I sat there, wishing the time would go by faster, a man got up to give his talk. He caught my attention because I could swear he kept saying the word ‘Denmark’.

I woke Grandma up to tell her I thought the speaker was from Denmark, but I wasn’t sure. I kept listening, trying to understand what he was saying. Then I told Grandma I think he is talking about himself and that he used to live there.

When the sacrament was over, Grandma went up to the man and began speaking to him in Danish. I was so embarrassed, I wanted to die right there on the spot.  I was sure the man thought that Grandma was a crazy lady for speaking a funny language to him. I started to walk off as fast as I could. But to my surprise, the man spoke Danish back to her. Grandma told him she was here for a visit from Denmark. He told her his name was Gert and that he and his brother, Kjeld, had lived in Canada for years.

Anyone from that ward could have given a talk that day, but it just happened to be Gert. Gert could have given a talk on anything, but he chose to talk about Denmark. Grandma and I would have come and gone, and no one would have known that we were there.

Gert got our address and had our church records sent to this ward. He also arranged for us to have visiting and home teachers. When we got home from church, we couldn’t wait to tell Mom all about Gert, the Danish man we had talked to at church.

Later in the day, Grandma asked Mom if she had any leftover Christmas candy. Mom assured her that it had all been eaten. When Grandma was alone in the kitchen, she started snooping through all the cupboards. Grandma found a whole package of chocolate stuffed in the back. Just as grandma was finishing off the last piece of chocolate, mom came back into the kitchen. Grandma said to Mom, “I knew you would have something good stashed away.” Mom asked Grandma what in the world she was talking about. Grandma showed her the wrapping from the chocolate she had eaten. Mom told Grandma that it was not regular chocolate that she just eaten. It was Ex-Lax. It didn’t take long for the laxative to kick in. Grandma sat on the toilet for quite some time after that.

We could hear Grandma complaining in the bathroom that her stomach hurt and that she was going to poop out all her innards. I was afraid that Grandma was going to die, so I asked Mom if she and Bent were going to take her to the doctor. Bent calmly responded that Grandma would be okay in a few days. Which, thank goodness, she was.

Grandma stayed for three weeks. I was very sad to see her return to Denmark. Grandma promised me that she would come back again real soon. After Grandma left, everything went back to the way it had been before she got here. The attic was cold, and food was scarce again.

February 1972

After dinner, a man knocked on the door. He said his name was Kjeld. It was Gert’s brother. The man that Grandma and I had met while we were at church.

Since Kjeld spoke Danish to Mom, she let him in. Soon after, we also started to get visiting teachers. Bent made it clear to Mom that he didn’t want these Mormons in HIS home. The visiting teacher would come during the day, so Bent didn’t know they had been here.

Kjeld came with his companion in the evening. Mom didn’t know how to tell them that they couldn’t come anymore, so Mom let them in. Then Bent went into his room and left through a window. We didn’t see Bent for the next three days. He went up in the mountains and stayed in the trailer that he had there. He would often go there when he wanted a break from us. He would always make sure to let Sander and me know that we were unbearable to be around because we were nothing but snot-nose brats.

When he came back, he told Mom never to let the home teachers in again. Mom told Bent that the next time they came, he could open the door and tell them himself.

When the home teachers came again, Bent was about to tell them not to come anymore. Kjeld told Bent about a church activity coming up and the free food that they would be serving there. Bent told Kjeld that he didn’t want to go. Kjeld suggested that he could bring Sander and me to it. This sounded good to Bent because we would get a free meal and save him money. After that, the home teachers were allowed to come again, and they brought Sander and me a few times during church activities. 

Over the years, Bent and Kjeld became very close friends.

The visiting teachers sometimes picked me up for church on Sundays and for primary during the week. Sometimes I even took the bus to activities by myself during the week. Why Mom would allow me to do this all by myself, I will never understand, because I was so young, and it was not safe for me to make this trip in the evening.

March 1972

Since Sander and I were only allowed to bathe once a week, I ended up with a boil on my forehead. I didn’t know what it was at first. I only knew that it hurt. I thought a spider had bitten me during the night, since spiders were crawling in the attic. My face was so swollen that it was hard for me to see out of my eyes. I felt bad about how I looked, so Mom told me I could stay home from school until I looked better. I wanted to go to the doctor, but Bent told me it was no big deal and that I was to keep the boil clean by washing it every day and then squeezing the infection out. Eventually, it would go away. It was excruciating. I missed about a week of school. Finally, the boil healed.

April 1972

While I was going to school, my name was changed to Anne. Everyone else in my class also had their names changed to more common ones. Sander’s name was changed to John since his middle name is Johny.

I hoped to become friends with more kids in my class, but my classmates mostly stuck to their own nationalities. The school Sander and I attended also offered other classes for regular Canadian children. At recess, I made friends with some of these children. I became really good friends with a Canadian girl whose name was also Anne. Anne and I soon became best friends. Mom even let me stay after school sometimes so I could go to her house and play for a while. Then I would take the bus home.

One day, while I was playing with Anne at recess, she asked if I wanted to go with her to the candy store across the street. I reminded Anne that we were not to leave the school grounds from 9:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. If we were caught breaking this rule, we would have to go to the principal’s office and get a beating. In those days, teachers or the principal could hit you if you did not follow the school rules. Anne assured me she did it all the time, and nothing ever happened to her.

When we got back from the store, a teacher was waiting for us on the school grounds. She had us go with her to the principal’s office so that we could get a beating. Anne was asked to go in first while I waited outside the principal’s office. I could hear Anne crying loudly. I was sure she was getting the worst beating of her life, and I was to be next. Then the principal told me it was my turn to come into his office. I wasn’t scared, I just wanted to hurry and get the beating over with. When I got into his office, the principal said, “I don’t like hitting children, and from the way Anne is crying, it sounds like she is sorry for what you two have done.

Then he asked us to pretend that he had hit us both and not to let anyone know that he never punished us. As we left his office, the principal said, “If you are ever caught leaving the school grounds again, I will hit you, and it will be twice the beating.” We promised him that we would never leave the school grounds again. Since we didn’t want to get hit, both Anne and I kept our promise.

May 1972

It was almost the end of the school year. The teacher told me that since I had learned to speak English so well, I would be going to the school near where I lived next year. Sander’s teacher had told him the same. Some of the other kids in the class had to go again next year. It turned out to be a good thing that Sander and I didn’t have anyone in our class to talk to. It forced us to learn the language faster.

June 1972

Hans, the man who lived in the basement, had gone to a health food store. When he came back, he told Sander and me to go and see him in the basement. Then Hans showed us some figs that he had bought. He wanted us to have some. Sander and I had never tasted figs before. After that, Hans would buy us some figs every time he went to the health store. I don’t think Hans ever knew how much that meant to me.

School is out for the summer.

Now that school was out, Sander and I played outside in the front yard. This time, when the neighbor kids came over, we were able to talk to them. They seemed surprised to hear how well we had learned to speak their language. That summer, we made friends with a few of these kids from our block.

July 1972

My 11th birthday was coming up. I asked Mom if I could invite some of the kids from school over for a birthday party. I could hardly believe that she said yes to it. Mom helped me make out a few invitations. I was excited to have a party. Mom went shopping for cake and ice cream. The kids I had invited lived so far away. They all called to tell me that they couldn’t make it. The only girl who came to my party was my new best friend, Anne. I was so happy to have her come over. I was sad when it was time for Anne to go home because I didn’t know when I’d see her again, since she lived so far away.

When Anne went home, Bent threw a fit over the food Mom had bought for my party. He told Mom never to have another birthday party for Sander or me ever again!

September 1972

Now that school was starting again, Sander and I were registered for the one closest to Bent’s house. There were no school buses to take us. It took us a good 20 minutes to walk to school. We were both put a grade behind since we had spent a year in a special school learning to speak English. I was placed in the 4th grade. My new teacher’s name was Miss Waterman. She had never been married and was a mean old teacher. She was not at all like the teacher that I had had last year. The first day of school, she made it clear to us that if any of us disobeyed her, she would hit us with her big, long ruler.

I made sure to stay out of trouble. During the year, a few kids were brought to the front of the class. Miss Waterman had the girls lie across her lap, and then she would proceed to spank them. She also had the boys get in front of the class and told them to bend over. Then she got her long ruler and would strike them across their bottom. I was relieved that I was never subjected to this humiliation.

I hardly read any English. The teacher arranged for one of the older kids to tutor me. When my tutor came, we went out into the hall. The tutor had brought a book for me to read. I told her that I was dumb and that I would never learn to read. She smiled and said that I should practice. I told her that since I couldn’t even learn to read in my own language, there was no way I was going to learn to read this language. I had convinced myself that I could never learn, and I managed to convince the tutor also. From then on, whenever my tutor came, we would sit in the hall and talk until it was time to go back to class. 

If only I had understood that I was capable of learning and that I wasn’t stupid, I wouldn’t have had to wait until I was an adult to finally learn.

Sander and I outgrew our clothes.

Sander and I outgrew the clothes we brought from Denmark. We told Bent that we needed new ones. Then Bent showed us his clothes and said, “See this shirt? I have had that since 1956, and it is still as good as new. I know how to take care of my things, and you snot-nosed kids need to learn to do the same!”

One day, when Bent came home from working in the mountains, he brought with him a bag of clothes someone had thrown away. He told us here were our clothes, and we were to dig in. Sander and I looked through the used clothes; they were mostly for little children. I did find a white T-shirt, and I was so happy about it. I had not had it for very long when Mom hung it outside on the clothesline to dry. The neighbor was burning his garbage, and a piece flew up onto my shirt, burning a hole in it. However, since it was one of the only pieces of clothing I had, I kept wearing it.

It was obvious we weren’t going to get new clothes. Sander got a newspaper job so he could start earning money for clothes that would fit him. As Sander outgrew his clothes, he gave them to me. In those days, there was a definite difference in girls’ and boys’ clothes. When I went to school, the other kids would make fun of me for what I was wearing. I started delivering papers, too, so I could earn enough money to buy some clothes. It was hard to save money because I often ended up spending it on food.

Delivering papers in the winter

Delivering papers in the winter was quite unbearable since neither Sander nor I had proper clothing. My shoes had holes, and therefore I couldn’t keep my feet dry. When I got home from delivering the papers, my feet were frozen. I would put my feet in hot water so they could taw out. It was so painful! It was hard to carry all those papers around on my shoulder.  Sander had made himself a bike out of parts that he had found. Later, he did the same for me. He even found me a used basket to hold the papers.

Precious Milk

I got a new friend in my class, her name is Anna. She would sometimes take me to her house during lunch hour. One time when we went to Anna’s house for lunch, her mom gave her a glass of milk. When lunch was over, Anna had only drunk a little bit of her milk and was about to throw the rest out. I yelled, “No!” Her mom looked at me and asked me if I would like to drink it.” I gave a shy, “Yes, please.” The mom was baffled to see me drink the milk the way I did. She then asked if I would like some more, and I did. This mom would let me drink milk to my heart’s content. I wished I could live with the family. Food didn’t seem to be an issue for them.

My Suitcase

I never did unpack my suitcase. I always kept it packed, right under my bed, ready to go back to Denmark. I didn’t want to give up hope that we were going back. As the days turned into months and months turned into years, there was still no sign that we were going back to Denmark, yet I still kept it packed under my bed, ready to go. I couldn’t accept the fact that I was never going back.

The Dream 1973

One day, when I was twelve, Bent once again sent me to my room without dinner. When I got to my room, I grabbed my suitcase. I then came back downstairs and asked Mom and Bent to send me back to Denmark. I told them that, by the way they were treating me, it was clear they didn’t want me, and I knew my dad was worried about me and would be happy to see me again.

Mom and Bent were sitting at the kitchen table, eating their dinner. They looked at me, and then Mom busted out with that eerie laughter, and Bent joined her. When they were done laughing at me, Mom asked, “Do you really think your dad would want you? He is glad to be rid of you! He wants nothing to do with you! Why do you think he hasn’t come to get you?!”  I told Mom that my dad didn’t know where I was, and if he did, he would gladly come and get me. Then Bent said, “If you know what’s good for you, you’d better run back to your room!” There was nothing more I could do, so I did as I was told.

When I got to my room, I threw myself on my bed and cried. Since we arrived in Canada, I had often cried myself to sleep. I had also prayed that somehow I would go back to Denmark. This time, I cried as I had never cried before. I was upset and angry. I took my pillow and threw it at the ceiling as I cried, “Why, Heavenly Father, do you not answer my prayers? Why do you not care about me? I pray to you, but you ignore me! WHY?” I felt so hopeless. I missed my dad and grandmother so terribly, and I knew they missed me too. They seemed to be the only people in the world who truly cared about me.

I had heard my mom talk to Bent about the pills she carried in her purse. They were pills for anxiety to help Mom keep calm. I had heard Bent tell her to go easy on those pills and that if she took too many, she would get so calm that she would never wake up again. I thought it would be the perfect way to die. I would take the pills and feel no pain and fall asleep, and my troubles would be over.

The next day, when I got home from school, I carefully took the bottle of pills out of Mom’s purse. I got a glass of water and went into my room. As I lay in bed, I wondered whether I should write a note. I couldn’t spell much, but I wanted to say goodbye to Beth at least. I knew that if I left a note for my dad, he would most likely never get it. I laid down and cried.

I thought I had taken the pills. I fell asleep. A man came into my room to get me. I could not see him, but he had a caring voice, and I felt his love all around me. I was drawn into his embrace. He told me to come with him. The first thing he showed me was my funeral. I saw my body lying in a casket, then I saw Mom and Bent looking sad. I was glad to see them being sad that I was dead. Then I saw my little sister crying. I wanted to tell her not to cry and to let her know I was right here. As I did this, she did not respond. The voice said, “You can see her, but she is unable to see or hear you.” I got scared. I didn’t want to see my sister cry like this. I wanted to make it all better. The voice said, “Once you commit suicide, there is no way back.”

The voice took me to a place where other spirits were who had committed suicide. I looked at everyone, and then one of the spirits came towards me. I recognized him; it was my grandfather who had committed suicide 10 years earlier. My grandfather told me he was happy where he was, but sad he had not fulfilled his whole purpose on earth. He showed me his clothes. They looked white, but he said they were not as white as they would have been if he had not given up. He told me to stay strong and that I had unborn children who were waiting for me to grow up so they could come to be in my family. My grandfather then told me that he loved me, that he was looking forward to seeing me again, and that I should hang in there. We would meet again someday, but right now was not the time.

Then the man brought me to another place. As we were traveling, he told me my life was hard and that I would face even greater hardship. I would have physical as well as emotional pain. But there would be a reason for everything, even if I didn’t understand it now. I was to learn lessons from them. The lessons I learned were to be written down so my children and others could read them and learn from my experiences.

Then I saw some spirits who were to be my children and my children’s children, and other spirits too. I was surprised to see how many people would be affected by the choices I would make. Some of these spirits pleaded with me to stay strong because if I were to commit suicide, they would not be able to have me as their mom, and I wouldn’t get the lessons I was to learn while I was here on earth, and they would not be able to learn from them either.

Then I was brought to another place. Here, I saw my brother with his arms stretched out through a barred window. My brother called me, but I was scared of him. The voice told me that he wanted me to see this to let me know that there would come a time when my brother was to be put into prison. I would be able to come and go from there as I pleased, but there were bars that my brother would never be able to break free from because of the choices he would be making unless he changed his ways.

This place scared me. My heart hurt for my brother, but I was in a hurry to get away from there. I was glad I was free to choose whether to visit him or not.

As we were traveling back to my room, the voice said I would be tempted later in my life to commit suicide again, but I was to remember all the spirits that would be affected by this and always to stay strong, even when it would be tough at times.

Then the voice brought me back to my room. I opened my eyes and saw I still had the pills in my hand. Then I could hear a bird singing outside my window. I ran to the window to see if I could catch a glimpse of the man with the voice. But there was no one.  It was a beautiful day outside. A bird was singing on the roof. The bird turned to me, and then it flew away. I watched it fly into the sky until I couldn’t see it anymore. I was still in my room, and everything around me was the same, but somehow it was all different.

Now I knew there was a loving Heavenly Father who was aware of me. He knew me, and he knew what I was going through. I was to be strong and learn from what would happen to me. I was excited to write about my experiences and to meet all those spirits who were counting on me.

Even though my circumstances had not changed, everything was different. I carefully put Mom’s pills back in her purse. I didn’t feel alone anymore. I had a purpose.