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Vieraskieliset / In-english

Blog: A dream come true

Vieraskieliset / In-english
21.8.2020 6.40

Juttua muokattu:

24.7. 11:45

Do you have a big dream right now? So­met­hing conc­re­te and comp­le­te­ly re­a­li­zab­le? Watch out: it may be­co­me true some day. Ma­y­be not qui­te pain­les­s­ly and not right away, but some day what is now on­ly a dream may ac­tu­al­ly be re­a­li­ty

I had a dream when I was still un­der fif­ty and was ta­king a sab­ba­ti­cal. I had an ob­ses­si­on: I wan­ted to have a small ca­bin fit for win­ter ha­bi­ta­ti­on on the yard of my old fa­mi­ly home. The old hou­se was get­ting di­la­pi­da­ted, and it was not even pos­sib­le to use the crumb­ling brick oven for he­a­ting any more. No way could I stay the win­ter in that hou­se.

I be­gan a fran­tic se­arch. I wan­ted the ca­bin for that very au­tumn, and it was not to be too ex­pen­si­ve. Re­a­ding the clas­si­fied ads in the lo­cal pa­per, I found a sui­tab­le ca­bin in a re­mo­te Suo­mus­sal­mi vil­la­ge. I gu­ess most pe­op­le con­si­de­red it a was­te of ef­fort, and some found it just stu­pid and fun­ny – I could see that from the way they loo­ked at the pic­tu­re. But I thought it was won­der­ful, and that was enough.

The ca­bin, or rat­her the con­tai­ner, had pre­vi­ous­ly ser­ved as the of­fi­ce of the fo­re­man of a road const­ruc­ti­on crew. It had been pla­ced on the steel bed of a truck. Even the lar­ge wheels were still there for trans­por­ta­ti­on. Wasn’t that great?!

The ca­bin had la­yers of me­mo­ries of past ti­mes: there was the flue pipe of an iron stove, a pie­ce of hose pipe from a li­quid gas he­a­ter, a hot wa­ter boi­ler and a cold wa­ter tank, the hand­le of a ma­nu­al pump, a drai­ning bo­ard with a sink and a se­wer pipe that ran down to the cle­a­ring be­hind the ca­bin, a soc­ket for a land­li­ne phone and, as the most mo­dern cont­rap­ti­on, elect­ric cent­ral he­a­ting with an­tif­ree­ze li­quid flo­wing through the ra­di­a­tors. The he­a­ter gurg­led like a small brook – there was not enough li­quid in the sys­tem. When I ad­ded some an­tif­ree­ze, the gurg­ling tur­ned to faint drib­b­ling. The deal inc­lu­ded an elect­ric stove, a frid­ge and se­ve­ral ot­her use­ful items. The guy who sold the ca­bin pro­mi­sed to ar­ran­ge its trans­por­ta­ti­on that same week.

It was a clou­dy Oc­to­ber day. I was wai­ting for the ca­bin to ar­ri­ve. To pass the time, I be­gan to clear away the thick brush­wood. It was get­ting dark and it be­gan to driz­z­le. I felt gloo­my and wor­ried. Fi­nal­ly, I he­ard the truck clat­te­ring loud­ly up the nar­row, bum­py road. The ea­ves of the ca­bin were catc­hing on the branc­hes of the sur­roun­ding spruce trees. I felt down­right des­pe­ra­te. Why on earth did I ever take on this pro­ject? I would have nee­ded some male in­tel­li­gen­ce and strength!

The dri­ver set to work: he re­ver­sed and tur­ned the truck this way and that, trying to set­t­le the ca­bin on the cor­rect spot – it would re­main on its wheels, and we on­ly nee­ded to put a pile of cin­der blocks un­der the drive shaft. We fi­nal­ly got that done. The dri­ver then be­gan to re­ver­se the truck back to the road. Or tried to. The wheels of the truck just sank dee­per in­to the rain-sof­te­ned soil and got stuck.

I was close to ut­ter des­pair. I cal­led the neigh­bor and as­ked if he could bring his trac­tor. I was as­ha­med and di­sap­poin­ted. The trac­tor hau­led the truck ea­si­ly out of the mud, but my nice yard was like a fresh­ly plo­wed field. I was sick with fa­ti­gue. The con­tai­ner was le­a­ning on one side and see­med hor­rib­le against the pale glim­mer of sun­set. Like a sin­king Ti¬ta¬nic. If I had had a stick of dy­na­mi­te, I would have blown up that ho­vel of my dre­ams.

The fol­lo­wing mor­ning was sun­ny, at le­ast in some res­pects. I had pe­op­le come in to help, both child­ren and adults. Even my el­der­ly mot­her was dri­ven up to en­joy the com­pa­ny in the warm glow of the fi­rep­la­ce. Three ca­pab­le male re­la­ti­ves be­gan to re­mo­ve the wheels from un­der the body of the truck bed. Again, I felt wor­ried and sca­red, es­pe­ci­al­ly when I he­ard one of the men tin­ke­ring with the un­der­si­de of the ca­bin say:

– Many have lost their li­ves doing things like this.

I froze with hor­ror. What if my crazy idea en­ded up in a ter­rib­le ac­ci­dent! I pa­ced around rest­less and agi­ta­ted. I must have gone in a few ti­mes to see about the pot of soup on the stove, but I do not re­mem­ber it.

At last the long day of hard work be­gan to draw to an end. The ca­bin stood on cin­der blocks. The hel­pers went home. I had to take my mot­her to town to have some rest. But I could not find my cat and had to go back one more time. I did not want to le­a­ve the poor cat at the mer­cy of lyn­xes and wol­ve­ri­nes.

When I re­tur­ned to pick up the cat, I saw a huge, crim­son moon rise be­hind the lake. I wal­ked around the frost-co­ve­red yard cal­ling out for my cat. Sud­den­ly I was struck by a ter­rib­le thought: what if the child­ren had left the well lid open and my cat had fal­len in­to the old well. I went to the well, ope­ned the lid and cal­led the cat’s name in­to the dark, cold depths. As if the cat had ans­we­red me if it had been there! Dead ti­red and des­pe­ra­te I went in­to the hou­se and left the door open. Sud­den­ly I saw a fa­mi­li­ar fi­gu­re flash through the open door. It was a jo­yous reu­ni­on.

When I fi­nal­ly got home, I joi­ned my hands in a pra­yer of thanks. The He­a­ven­ly Fat­her had hel­ped and had had mer­cy on us: eve­ry­bo­dy was safe and sound, and even the ca­bin was stan­ding where it was me­ant to stand.

My dream came true. God bles­sed me with a great gift. The ca­bin has been very use­ful in win­ter­ti­me. Even my nie­ce’s fa­mi­ly like to spend time there. It is han­dy and com­pact, a small nest ea­si­ly kept warm by its ba­sic he­a­ting sys­tem. It is nice and cozy even at the col­dest tem­pe­ra­tu­res. Christ­mas time in the mid­d­le of snow-co­ve­red spruce trees sur­roun­ded by thick banks of snow un­der the huge star-stud­ded sky is the best that the small ca­bin can of­fer.

Text: Tuu­la Stång

Trans­la­ti­on: Sirk­ka-Lii­sa Lei­no­nen

You will find the ori­gi­nal blog post here.


Muis­ta­kaa tämä: joka niu­kas­ti kyl­vää, se niu­kas­ti niit­tää, ja joka run­saas­ti kyl­vää, se run­saas­ti niit­tää. 2. Kor. 9:6

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