The night couldn’t be more perfect for a stroll along the beach. The breeze is gentle, and the sea mirrors its stillness. I inhale deeply, letting the scents of the evening fill my senses—the salty mist in the air, the refreshing scent of eucalyptus drifting from the trees nearby. My toes sink into the sand,…
Category: Childhood
Grandfather Clock
There is a particular kind of solace that lives in my family’s old grandfather clock. It hangs on the wall downstairs, keeping time with its steady, gentle tick-tock. On days when life feels brittle — when I am frazzled or unsettled — I pause and listen. The sound wraps around me like a lullaby. It…
Family Recipes
Food has a way of carrying us home. For me, that home begins in a sunlit kitchen where the scent of fresh bread mingled with simmering soup, wrapping itself around everything like a warm embrace. I can still hear the gentle clink of utensils, the soft hum of the oven, and above it all, my…
Roots & Wings
For those of us Finns who live overseas, identity is something tender. It is more than where we were born or where we live now. It lives quietly within us — in our language, our memories, and in that ache for something we can never fully leave behind. We may build our lives far from…
Bless Your Heart
At the moment, our home feels like a linguistic smoothie, with accents from all over the world blending together under one roof. Our friends from Florida are staying with us for the month of November, and their presence has turned our home into a lively little orchestra of voices, tones, and rhythms. It is not…
Cardamom Spice
There is a place in my childhood memories sweeter than almost any other — my grandma’s kitchen. There was nowhere on earth I would rather have been than in my mummi’s warm and welcoming kitchen, learning to bake pulla, that beautiful sweet Finnish cardamom bread whose scent alone can carry me straight back to childhood….
Childhood Summer Cottage
Although Helsinki’s cobbled streets and majestic architecture formed the backdrop of my early life, my world was anchored in one small, precious place within that city. In the northeastern corner of Helsinki, where the pulse of the city softens and nature quietly takes over, lies the lovely neighbourhood of Itä-Pakila. It was there, in a…
Childhood Home
Written by Jaana M. H. JokinenTold by my mother, Mirja AnneliSeptember 1949, Kallio, Helsinki, Finland Slowly but surely, the days were growing colder and darker. School had started again, and autumn had arrived. I have always been a summer person, so even as an eight-year-old, I was not at all pleased by the changing season….
The Fire
Written by Jaana M. H. JokinenTold by my grandmother, Hilja MariaMarch 1913, Joroinen, Finland It was a cold early spring day in Joroinen, in Northern Savonia in the eastern part of Finland, where my family lived. Joroinen is often called the “Paris of Savonia”, because in the 1700s the noblemen there mainly spoke French. Even…
Road Closed
On rainy summer days, my mum used to send us children up into the attic. As an adult, I understand why. Ours was only a small cottage, and when rain kept us indoors, we children must have made the walls ring with our noise, our energy, our endless movement. Sending us upstairs must have brought…
Apples of Gold 