JavaScript is disabled in your web browser or browser is too old to support JavaScript. Today almost all web pages contain JavaScript, a scripting programming language that runs on visitor's web browser. It makes web pages functional for specific purposes and if disabled for some reason, the content or the functionality of the web page can be limited or unavailable.
Vieraskieliset / In-english

Blog: Half a cen­tu­ry ago

Vieraskieliset / In-english
20.2.2021 7.00

Juttua muokattu:

19.2. 10:00

Half a cen­tu­ry ago I par­ked my car in the cen­ter of Sot­ka­mo and wal­ked ac­ross a squ­a­re of grass, blu­e­bel­ls and clo­vers sur­roun­ded by tall pi­nes. I had been ap­poin­ted ju­ni­or te­ac­her in Sot­ka­mo mid­d­le school and high school, and I was on my way to meet the prin­ci­pal – the Prin­ci­pal with a ca­pi­tal P.

I have of­ten won­de­red at the mi­ra­cu­lous com­pa­ti­bi­li­ty of sche­du­les in life. Way back in the win­ter I had pro­mi­sed to give a ride to a friend who was due to in­ter­view a well-known Fin­nish wri­ter in Sot­ka­mo. At the time I made that pro­mi­se, I had no idea of my own fu­tu­re. But it tur­ned out my mee­ting at my new workp­la­ce was to take place at the same time as my friend’s in­ter­view.

I wal­ked up the steps of the school, wal­ked along the qui­et cor­ri­dor, and knoc­ked on the door of the prin­ci­pal’s of­fi­ce. The chair­man of the school bo­ard was sit­ting in a big armc­hair. I gree­ted all those pre­sent in the room and told them my name. The prin­ci­pal, a small, grim-fa­ced lady stood up from the chair be­hind her desk. She sur­vey­ed me from head to toe a coup­le of ti­mes and as­ked:

– Well, what grade are you co­ming to?

I re­pe­a­ted my name and said we had ag­reed about a mee­ting.

– Oh, yes, that’s right. I thought you were a new stu­dent.

We then be­gan to dis­cuss school mat­ters. Af­ter­wards, the prin­ci­pal of­ten re­mi­nis­ced about the mis­ta­ke she had made, ta­king the new te­ac­her for a stu­dent.

For the first few ye­ars of my te­ac­hing ca­reer, I was not much ol­der than my high school stu­dents. Some had star­ted mid­d­le school la­ter than ave­ra­ge, some ot­hers had re­pe­a­ted a grade.

That was how I star­ted my li­fe­long ca­reer as a te­ac­her. I on­ly left te­ac­hing to re­ti­re on old-age pen­si­on. It was in­te­res­ting and ex­ci­ting work – and I was ins­pi­red to te­ach.

For the first two ye­ars I li­ved in a small at­tic room a stone’s throw away from the school. I was af­raid of dogs, and I re­mem­ber of­ten watc­hing groups of vil­la­ge dogs ro­a­ming past my win­dow.

My ye­ars as a te­ac­her co­ver a good stretch of the his­to­ry of the Fin­nish school sys­tem. A few ye­ars af­ter I star­ted, Fin­land adop­ted the cur­rent comp­re­hen­si­ve school sys­tem that gu­a­ran­tees free and equ­al ba­sic edu­ca­ti­on to all child­ren. Cur­ri­cu­lar chan­ges were wor­ked out many ti­mes du­ring my te­nu­re. The prac­ti­ces and ac­ti­vi­ties of schools went through a num­ber of up­he­a­vals and al­te­ra­ti­ons.

The blu­e­bel­ls and clo­vers in front of the school di­sap­pe­a­red a long time ago, and on­ly a few of the old pi­nes still stand. The school buil­ding has been ex­ten­ded. A new of­fi­ce buil­ding with a lar­ge, pa­ved par­king area was built some time ago.

I had a rich life and a lot of dif­fe­rent ex­pe­rien­ces while li­ving in Sot­ka­mo. I fol­lo­wed the life cour­se of many pe­op­le from near or far and even par­ti­ci­pa­ted in some pe­op­le’s li­ves. I re­mem­ber some more cle­ar­ly than ot­hers, I do not know why.

It is al­wa­ys a joy to meet unex­pec­ted­ly so­me­o­ne that I have not seen for a long time. When they come up to greet me, I feel my work has been me­a­ning­ful.

What has hap­pe­ned to me du­ring these de­ca­des? I cer­tain­ly do not look like a school­girl any more. I have gone through many gra­des in the school of life. I have col­lec­ted a good num­ber of won­der­ful me­mo­ries, alt­hough not all groups have been ea­sy. God has gui­ded my work.

I am sit­ting in my roc­king chair knit­ting a car­di­gan, which is a good thing to knit on a rai­ny day. When I mo­ved to Sot­ka­mo, I had a simp­le bunk bed, a small desk and a red spind­le-back chair. The white roc­king chair that I am sit­ting in was the first pie­ce of fur­ni­tu­re that I bought with my pa­yc­heck.

Wind is chur­ning up le­a­den wa­ter,

he­a­vy rain drops boun­cing off the sur­fa­ce.

This wa­ter has many sha­des of co­lor,

the clear blue of a sun­ny sum­mer mor­ning,

the glow of purp­le clouds,

the gol­den ref­lec­ti­ons of au­tumn.

Like life.

Text: Ai­li Pa­sa­nen

Trans­la­ti­on: Sirk­ka-Lii­sa Lei­no­nen


Sinä päi­vä­nä Her­ra on ole­va koko maan­pii­rin ku­nin­gas. Hän on ole­va yk­si ja ai­noa Ju­ma­la ja hä­nen ni­men­sä ai­noa, jota avuk­si huu­de­taan. Sak. 14:9

Viikon kysymys


Toi­sen­lai­ses­sa va­los­sa

Mi­ka­e­lan per­hees­sä ei pal­jon pu­hu­ta asi­ois­ta. Teh­dään töi­tä, käy­dään kou­lua. Mut­ta jos­sain pin­nan al­la on sa­lai­suus, joka saa äi­din hy­räi­le­mään su­ru­mie­li­ses­ti ja Mi­ka­e­lan sil­mäi­le­mään tar­kem­min muu­ta­mia nuo­ria kou­lun käy­tä­vil­lä ja ruo­ka­las­sa.

Se­läs­sä au­rin­gon kat­se

An­ni­ka Koi­vu­kan­kaan ru­nois­sa heit­täy­dy­tään nuo­ren elä­män aal­lok­koon, sen iloi­hin ja ki­pui­hin, ko­et­te­le­muk­siin ja ar­jen su­loi­seen tur­vaan – kun on us­ko, jo­hon no­ja­ta ja rin­nal­la saat­ta­jia. Sy­viä tun­to­ja ke­ven­tää rai­kas huu­mo­ri: ”Kun­pa voi­sin aset­tua het­kek­si koi­ran turk­kiin. / Tun­tea sen läm­mön / kar­ku­mat­ko­jen tuok­sun / ja myl­lä­tyn kuk­ka­pen­kin ilon. Pai­jaa­via sor­mia riit­täi­si.”

Ome­na­pos­ki ja Nal­le Kar­hu­nen

Kah­dek­san­vuo­ti­as Nal­le Kar­hu­nen on kuu­si­vuo­ti­aan Nu­pun eli Ome­na­pos­ken vii­sas, kilt­ti ja hel­lä iso­ve­li. Jos­kus Nal­le käyt­täy­tyy kuin tal­viu­nil­taan he­rä­tet­ty hur­ja ja äk­ki­pi­kai­nen kar­hu. Sil­loin Nu­pun on pa­ras­ta läh­teä ulos tai lait­taa oman huo­neen ovi vi­sus­ti kiin­ni.

Ta­kai­sin Isän ko­tiin

Kir­joit­ta­jat eri puo­lil­ta maa­il­maa ker­to­vat sii­tä, kuin­ka Ju­ma­la on joh­dat­ta­nut hei­dät val­ta­kun­taan­sa. Ker­to­muk­sia yh­dis­tää ko­ke­mus ko­tiin­pa­luus­ta, Raa­ma­tun mu­kai­sen us­kon löy­ty­mi­ses­tä ja us­ko­vais­ten vä­li­ses­tä rak­kau­des­ta.

Ke­tun­po­jat ja Ja­gu­ar-mies