In 1956, in the steady gentle rhythm of Helsinki life, my grandfather began each day in the little home he shared with my grandmother on Näkinkuja. I often find myself picturing those mornings so clearly, as though I can almost step into them. Their home was warm and snug, and already full of the familiar…
Tag: Helsinki
Bedtime Story
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 had known our family since before I was born. She belonged to that rare kind of friendship that seems to outlast the…
Apples of Gold 