This evening while me and Sassy were eating supper, the sun was setting. The sky was a pale blue with LOTS of pink clouds. Sassy said, "Look how pretty!" I turned, looked and said (without thinking), "Oh Christkindl must be baking cookies!" Sassy said, "HUH?" just like she does every time I say that...
Here is why I said what I did...
My mom was born in Germany and came stateside in her 20's. Granted, she has been in the USA longer than she lived in Germany, she is still is 100% percent German. In my moms eyes, me and my sister are American's and needed to stick with American customs....although she did teach us a tad bit of the customs from her homeland (just not in detail). So, out of the blue some things come out of mouth with out thinking twice about it...here are some examples...
One of the stories, I grew up hearing was that when the sky was streaked with pink clouds Christkindl was baking cookies. I would always ask who was Chriskindl and why was he baking cookies...she would always just say "kinda like your Santa Claus but kinda not"...I guess that answer sufficed me cause I never delved deeper into it til tonight...I searched the internet for Christkindl....
Christkindl (Christ-like) was the replacement of gift giver instead of Saint Nicholas, because of Martin Luther and the Protestant Reformation back in the 1600's. Martin Luther thought that Saint Nicholas took away from the true meaning of Christmas, which was the birth of Jesus. Chriskindl was used more or less as a figure of the Christ Child messenger. Later, Sinterklass was added to help Christkindl. He would go door to door and looking in windows making sure that children were behaving and doing their chores....being naughty or nice. Children would leave their shoes on the doorstep....if they were nice, they would find nuts, candy and small toys in their shoes. If they were naughty they would get rocks and sticks. Hmmmm...that must be why I always get nuts in my stocking, as well as, fruit...and was threatened, that if I was not good I would get coal and switches....anyhow that is how I interpreted it!
The next "HUH?" I get is when I call one of my kids a "Struwwelpeter"...
When I was a kid, my mom would call me and my sister a Struwwelpeter if our hair was really mussed up...or our appearance in general. I remember...me and my sister would mess up our hair by rubbing it and making it stick up...we would laugh and LAUGH and call each other a Struwwelpeter. To me that is a cool memory since my sister is mentally challenged and has cerebral palsy. It was fun....I do remember asking my mom what a struwwelpeter was...I don't think she ever answered me fully on it...she would just say "it's what you look like right now"...I guess I took it for granted and never really got he full definition. I just looked it up too. I just love the internet....
So, what is a Struwwelpeter, you ask?
Its a character from a story..."Der Struwwelpeter"... that was first publish in 1845 and written by Heinrich Hoffman. Apparently, Mr. Hoffman couldn't find any books that "taught" a child to behave....so he wrote one himself. An English version was translated in 1848. There are a few short stories in the book...
Here is the English translation about Struwwelpeter...
Der Struwwelpeter (Slovenly Peter)
Translation by MARK TWAIN
See this frowsy "cratur" —Pah! It's Struwwelpeter!On his fingers rusty,On his tow-head musty,Scissors seldom come;Let his talons grow a year, —Hardly ever combs his hair, —Do any loathe him? Some!They hail him "Modern Satyre —Disgusting Struwwelpeter."
Like I mentioned, this is a few short stories...Here is the link to a copy of the book online with illustrations...
One of my favorite stories or folklore, I heard when I was a kid was told by my dad...and I have told my kids this too...whenever we travel...
The story of Falling Rock...
I remember living in Las Vegas and traveling by car to western NC by car. It was such a LONG trip.....really it was!! Three days in a car SUCKED!
My dad would tell us the same story on every trip...It would start out as a history lesson in Oklahoma...about the Cherokee and the Trail of Tears. Then as we got closer to the Smoky Mountains....he would tell us the following...
Many, many, MANY moons ago....
There was an indian maiden that was in love with a young brave, he was in love with her too...along with another young brave. The maidens father was the Chief of the tribe. Since, both of the braves were in love with her...the father, in all fairness to both of the braves, devised a plan on how to pick the BEST suitable brave to marry his daughter. He said that the braves were to go on a hunt...and whoever brought back the most would marry his daughter. The braves left to go hunt. The first brave back was the one the maiden didn't love...he brought a substantial amount back. The chief was pleased...the maiden told her father to wait and see if the other brave would come back with more. Days went by...weeks went by....eventually years went by...the maiden was determined to wait for her love...she wanted her brave to come home to her...desperate for him to come home, she posted signs along the highways asking for help in finding her long lost love, Falling Rock. So, to this day you still see the signs...Watch for Falling Rock!!!!
That is the condensed version of how my dad would tell it...he would always have this cheesy grin on as he told the story and go into it with great detail. He kept our attention with it each and every time he told it. My kids, like me back in the day, giggle every time they see a "Falling Rock" sign.
disclaimer...all of the images (but one) on this post were googled...I forgot to get the details to whom they belong to...i do apologize for not being able to give credit to those they belong to.
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