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JESUS
and RED GERANIUMS
A NUMBER
OF YEARS AGO, after a rather lengthy lecture period in Berlin, I decided to
"get away from it all" for a while, and so arranged to vacation at
Fuldaland, a number of miles from nowhere. Leaving the denser civilization
behind, we struck off over the loveliest green country imaginable. On and on we
went into the open, the houses becoming fewer, fields and hills stretching off
to the skyline, and then a tiny village hove in sight
I had
arranged through a friend to take lodging with a farmer family by the name of
Krauz, composed of an old grandmother and grandfather. Their house was a long,
low white building with a passageway from front to back which divided the
stables from the house. Everything was under one roof, and when we entered, the
odor of fresh milk and new hay greeted us. The house was spacious, and the aisle
between the stable and the living quarters was as shining and clean as the
streets of a Dutch village.
The old
couple showed me to a large bedroom and sitting-room at the back of the house.
It was fall, there was a tang in the air, and the grandfather had built a fire
in the large porcelain stove which reached
the
ceiling. From the statuary and pictures, it was obvious that they were
Catholics. The grandmother
crossed
herself as she passed the little home altar, and then they left me alone.
Through
the small paned windows could be seen the rolling green fields. There were no
hedges or fences of
any
sort, - and when I went outdoors, it seemed as if I were standing on top of the
world. Here was peace, - and unobstructed beauty! A mile to the right the
Rudolph Steiner School showed forth in a tapestry-like setting of colored trees.
On a hillside a village girl tended some snow-white sheep. Clouds drifted in the
clear blue, headed for some distant port, - and an air of contentment filled the
place. Yes, - it seemed as if
heaven
had come down to earth!
The old
couple explained that they were poor, meaning by that, they had no money.
However, money did not play a very important part in their lives, as they had
abundant food, clothing and shelter. There was an
"exchange
market" in the village, - and the housewives would exchange produce and
poultry for coffee cakes and pies at the baker's oven.
And so I
"settled in". Time seemed suspended. Of times I would find I had been
sitting in a chair for several hours, in absolute silence. The only sound in the
house was the ticking of the old clock and the
lowing
of the cattle, - and sometimes the soft, gentle voice of the grandfather as he
tended them. There were only the three of us in the house, - and I finally began
thinking of it as "the Stable", - yes, "THE Stable".
And
sometimes the old couple would come and sit with me for coffee, - and tell me
about the pictures and
statues
in the rooms. And then they would tell about the Christ Child, - how it was that
one day He would come into their home and heal them, for both of them suffered
from old-age complications of a sort.
As the
days grew colder, the grandmother brought her plants in, - little tin cans
filled with geranium slips
which
would be ready to bloom when it was time to re-set them in the spring. Time was
forgotten, and the three of us felt a "nearness". Now they would come
and sit with me for hours. Talking had virtually ceased, - we just sat there in
a glowing sort of silence.
Then one
morning the two of them came in with faces beaming, - bringing a tray of cake
and coffee. I knew
something
wonderful had happened. The grandmother could contain herself no longer.
"Look!", she said, - "look, - the geraniums are all in
bloom!" And when I looked around the room, there was a flash of red. The
plants were literally covered with blooms, - although it was months before their
time to bloom. "The Christ Child has come to this house", she
continued, - "He has healed us, father and me, - and He has come to you,
too".
Suddenly
it seemed that the Heavenly Host was there. The old couple knelt at the altar, -
I arose from my chair. There was no weight, no heaviness, - something was
bearing me up, - just Light, - and more LIGHT!
Around
the room the geraniums were glowing, - and there was Silence in Heaven. The
grandmother had placed one of the plants on the altar before the Christ Child, -
where it glowed like a flame. And so during the three months' sojourn in this
unfenced land of beauty, the geraniums kept up their display. When the "Auf
Wiedersehen" came, and I left to return to the noise of life, the old
couple accompanied me to the door. We said our "Goodbyes," - and as I
looked back for the final farewell, the grandmother signaled me with a red
geranium.
* * *
In London some weeks
later, I received a letter written in the shaky handwriting of the grandmother.
She told me of the peace that was still with them, and of the red geraniums in
all their glory, closing with these sweet words, - "When again you come,
the flowers will bloom".
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