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…
Category: Childhood
Road Closed
When life feels overwhelming, faith gives us somewhere safe to rest. 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,…
Harvest Time
A simple life, lived close to nature and family, can give us more richness than modern comforts ever cold. I grew up in Helsinki, Finland, in what felt like a very typical Finnish way, with both a winter home and a summer home. When the end of May arrived, our family of six would leave…
Dandelion Puffballs
Sometimes life does not need to change for our hearts to feel lighter; we simply need to look at it with different eyes. Have you ever gone for a walk with a small child and held their little hand in yours as they skip along beside you? Their fingers curl trustingly around your own, while…
Afternoon Tea
We are each a bridge between the generations that came before us and those that come after us. I recently had my grandson stay for a couple of nights during the school holidays, and as always, the house seemed changed by his presence. It felt fuller somehow, livelier, warmer, threaded through with movement, laughter, questions,…
Something to Smile About
Notice what makes you smile. Those small moments are not interruptions to life, they are life. What makes you smile? I sometimes think life poses this question softly, in the middle of the most ordinary moments. Not during the grand occasions we prepare for and photograph and remember, but in the passing fragments of an…
My Dad, My Hero
There is deep tenderness in becoming the strength for someone who once was yours. I was told that when I came into this world, my father was especially glad that the baby placed into his arms was a little girl. I have often pictured that moment in my mind, my father looking down at me…
Baking with Grandma
The wisdom we remember best is often woven into ordinary time spent together. There are certain smells that do far more than drift through a house. They open doors to the past. They loosen memories that have been sitting quietly in the heart for years. For me, the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls, rich…
I Found It!
Our roots help explain who we are. When my brother and I were children, we loved playing hot and cold. One of us would hide some small object, and the other would become the hunter, searching, guessing, listening for clues. The closer the hunter came, the louder and more excited the cries would be: “hotter……
Bedtime Story
Perhaps the wisdom of growing older is realising that the hands we feared were empty have been holding more than we knew. When I was a little girl, about six years old, living in Helsinki, one of my mother’s dearest friends came to our home for supper. Her name was Eila. She lived nearby and…
Apples of Gold 