December 24, 1961, Le Havre, France. I could not believe how it could be so cold! The wind and cold felt as though they were penetrating to my bones. I did not know that it could be so miserably cold! And gloomy! The sky and the wharf seemed to blend into a single non-descript depressive gray. No sunshine! Not even a distinguishable cloud. Its as though God had used a very broad brush to stroke across the landscape a drab gray to welcome us to civilization from Paraguay. There was not even snow! At least then we could have enjoyed a sight that we had never witnessed before. No! Only that miserable, cold, and damp drizzle.

A couple of weeks earlier we were engulfed in the summer warmth of South America. Sun shine and tranquility. We were living at a pace that never caused any anxiety or worry that we would not finish (whatever it was that we were doing) on time. For all my 19 years, or at least for my teen years, I had longed for that day. At last I was going to gain my freedom! Yet, I had imagined a more serene, yet exciting, picture of what my future held. But that abominable cold and dreary greeting, that first impression…was I making a huge mistake?

Papa and Mama did not want me to leave the community and their protection. They worried about how I would survive on my own without their being able to shelter me. Up until that moment there had been no question in my mind that I could handle anything that could possibly be thrust in my way. However, we had only just walked off the boat and already I was beginning to have doubts. I was freezing! My clothes were too thin! My shoes did not keep my feet dry, and that dreadful incessant drizzle just continued to penetrate to the depths of my being. Yet, I knew that this discomfort would be temporary, and that in the end my dreams of freedom from the “Bruderhof” would be fulfilled.

Freedom was my quest, and, as sure as I was standing there in Le Havre, I would reach my “Holy Grail”. But the contrasts I was experiencing made me wonder what exactly was lying ahead for me. Somewhere, I heard Christmas music, but even those refrains sounded foreign to me. They were different from the music I was used to in Paraguay. I had always been told that the world outside the “Bruderhof” ,and everyone in it, were going to hell! And ,to be sure, the music I heard could not compare with what I had been used to in Paraguay. But surely, at least hopefully, that would not be completely true. In any case, I was determined to leave.

Papa and Mama did not want me to go, but if there was to be any chance of escape from the community, it was then. At that time my entire family, and in fact, the entire community, had left Paraguay, for America and England.

Too long I had been told that I “was not mature enough“. I was invited by Uncle Ken and Aunt Maizy to attend art school. Everything was paid for and Uncle Ken had even sent clothes for me. Needless to say I was filled with excitement at the prospect of going to school. Then! At the last minute came the word! “I was not mature enough“. The “Bruderhof” decided that I could not leave! And, to rub salt into already sore wounds, I was not even allowed to keep the clothes that Uncle Ken had sent, but had to share them. Perhaps I should not have felt that way, but I was really hurt! And if that were the only incident of being “not mature enough”, I probably would not feel like I do, but…,


“Eeeeyoww “!! The grayness had been pierced by the screams of my youngest brother, Raphael! At six years of age, he was not able to reason why it was cold, but only that he could not escape it. In desperation, he had thrown himself to the pavement and howled in cold agony. In reality, the temperature was not really freezing. But, the incessant cold drizzle we felt, was going to take its toll on all of us if we did not get inside soon. Raphael only verbalized what, probably, the rest of us were feeling. Finally, the hotel came in sight. To be sure we were a sorry looking lot. Mama and Papa with seven children aged six to nineteen, (I was the oldest) all dressed for summer in Paraguay. We boarded the ship in South America in summer, and arrived in France in the middle of winter. What a bedraggled sight we must have been!

Though we had only just arrived in Le Havre, this was not our destination. We were to sail for England after only one day in France. Tonight we were going to meet Mama’s cousin, Alix, who was living in Le Havre. But all I wanted was to get warm, have some hot tea, and take a hot shower!

I have really enjoyed the wonderful hot showers that I had been taking! Before starting out to leave Paraguay, I had never had a hot shower. Our facilities, in the jungle consisted of four walls, a corrugated metal roof and a concrete floor. Our water source was a barrel on the roof with a shower head protruding from it. The water was able to get a little warm from the sun, but for the most part the showers were cold.

Actually, our family was fortunate because Papa was the community baker. There was always a fire for the oven , and we had a barrel of water attached to the outside of the house that kept water hot all the time. (Actually, there were three buildings that had access to hot water: the bakery, the laundry and the kitchen which had the same type of system.) But alas, we could not take showers there. But for “Katzen-waesche” (wash-up with a bowl of water), we were fortunate to have the furnace in order to have constant hot water available. But the blessing of hot water also came with the curse of excessive heat year round, even in the summer. After all, we were living in a humid jungle south of the Equator! We had no air-conditioning!

When the rest of the community took “Katzen-waesche” they also utilized those special “water” houses where both hot and cold water was available. However, they had to carry buckets of hot water from those places, to wherever their houses were. While we lived at the bakery, hot water was convenient for us. However, when we moved from the bakery, the closest building with hot water was about seventy yards away. Being the oldest, it was my “privilege” to carry the water buckets when they were needed.

I spent my first nineteen years without knowing the absolute bliss of a hot shower.But upon arrival of Letty and I to Asuncion, and after experiencing the hotel shower, I have taken every chance to make up for all those years of hot shower “deprivation“! Ah, the simple pleasures that are so inexpensive, but somehow so luxurious!