Sleeping softly, then it seems
Heaven enters in my dreams;
Angels hover round me,
Whisp'ring they have found me;
Two are sweetly singing,
Two are garlands bringing,
Strewing me with roses
As my soul reposes.
God will not forsake me
When dawn, at last, will wake me.»

She told me stories from the bible and read them with me. I learned reading this way. "You don't need to believe in God" she said, knowing my parents wouldn't appreciate her teachings, "but you need to know those stories and you need to know how to pray. And try to remember every number you read in there. And don’t be fooled!" I didn't notice how much she made me learn back then. I recognize it today. Almost every day.

Once I asked her how to bake a bread and she took me for a walk. We went to a farmer nearby and she asked him if I was allowed to pick some wheat from his field. With his permission we roamed through the field and I collected some of it. Back home she told me to search for a stone that perfectly fitted my hand. I found one, she handed me a bowl made from thick stone and showed me how to grind the wheat. I started with excitement, got immediately exhausted and somewhat disappointed when I noticed that this work would take me days. “Good, you found this stone that fits your hand that perfect” is what she said.

"Did you have a fitting stone when you were my age?" I asked her. She shook her head. "No, I wasn't as lucky as you are. There was no time for things like that when I was your age." She told me a lot about these times. How families and neighbors stuck together and supported each other with works like crop, building and renovating houses, taking care of their animals and belongings. Responsibility is what she taught me, leading by example. That there’s joy in hard work and fulfillment in patience along with choosing wisely. Her lessons were spot-on.

I lived in her stories. Every day, dreaming away to a reality where people took care like my grandma took of me. Beside her, nobody in my family made me feel safe. If it wasn't for her, I may have become the narcissist my mother is. It's my grandmother's love and wisdom that made me the person I am today. A big part of it. My beliefs, my faith, my confidence, my trust, my passion, the way I feel connected to mother earth and beings from another realm, at least 18 of them, which is 9, in case no one ever taught you that …

Whatever she taught me, it started from scratch. After we had baked my first bread, more a bun actually, I had to start growing my own wheat for the next bread we were going to bake. The next time I didn’t had to grind it. She showed me her mill and how to use it. She showed me her needles, first, the sewing machine second. Deep understanding and using all your senses were her kind of things, Oma didn’t like superficiality. She made me listen to nature, see and admire the little things, talk to animals and plants, she sang traditional songs for me that taught me about a long, lost culture I learned nothing in school about. The roots of this ancient land I stood on. Her gifts were thoughtful in a way, I but today discover. She gave me rose quartz, a necklace with an Aries pendant, a coral necklace, lots of gemstones. I didn’t find them anything else but beautiful, today I understand she choose them to heal and safe me. The education my mother had in mind for me was different. She more cared about a shiny surface. She dragged me into all sorts of different activities I didn’t like. My schedule was packed.

Piano lessons, swimming competitions, playing the flute, giving concerts, riding horses, playing volleyball, tennis, … For her I had to compete a lot. My grandmother freed me from these toxic ways of thinking. She never expected me to be good at anything else than taking care of me. And she loved me, no matter what. She prepared me for a world, she knew I wouldn’t fit in easily and gave me the power to create my own one.