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Vieraskieliset / In-english

Blog: Lakeside happiness

Vieraskieliset / In-english
3.2.2022 6.00

Juttua muokattu:

19.1. 11:35

Text: Lii­sa Lil­va­nen-Pel­ko­nen

Trans­la­ti­on: Sirk­ka-Lii­sa Lei­no­nen

I had been ho­ping we could take time in the ear­ly spring to vi­sit my fat­her’s home, an old farm cal­led Lil­va­sa­ho at Juu­pa­jo­ki. We have usu­al­ly gone there eve­ry sum­mer, re­cent­ly even more of­ten. No-one li­ves there ye­ar-round, but pe­op­le go there in the sum­mer for va­ca­ti­on. The place is so be­au­ti­ful and pe­a­ce­ful, and we en­joy doing odd cho­res while there.

This time we did not do any cho­res, as we went on a Sun­day, our 6th wed­ding an­ni­ver­sa­ry. We in­ten­ded to find a bet­ter path from the farm to Lil­vas­jär­vi lake. I had gone to the lake twice in my life, using a ter­rib­ly overg­rown road that cros­sed a thick spruce fo­rest and deep gul­lies. We now de­ci­ded to make bee line for the lake.

The place was full of lo­ve­ly sha­des of light green, the frag­ran­ce of bloo­ming bird cher­ry trees and bird­song. I could not think of anyt­hing bet­ter than hi­king in the fo­rest with my dear hus­band, loo­king for the best way to get to the lake, cros­sing cre­vi­ces and avoi­ding moss-co­ve­red hol­lows. We saw de­ca­ying trees that had fal­len down long ago, an­cient spruce trees with be­ard lic­hen, gurg­ling brooks, and fi­nal­ly, the blue sheen of the lake bet­ween the trees. The air was per­va­ded by the smell of bogs co­ve­red by faint­ly pink bog ro­se­ma­ry.

Lil­vas­jär­vi is a small lake sur­roun­ded by marsh­land that will gra­du­al­ly en­gulf the lake. There is a deep roc­ky face on one side, a fo­rest-co­ve­red slope on anot­her, and wet­lands on the third. We did not exp­lo­re the re­mai­ning part of the lake shore.

That Sun­day was pro­bab­ly the hap­piest day of my spring. I still can­not help won­de­ring how the He­a­ven­ly Fat­her hel­ped me and my hus­band find each ot­her. How great it is to have so­me­o­ne who wants to join me for a trek through a swamp in se­arch of a small lake. And wants to eat a pac­ked lunch sur­roun­ded by bird cher­ry trees and li­lies-of-the-val­ley. And finds hap­pi­ness in the clear wa­ter of a fo­rest brook.

I so­me­ti­mes think back to the time when I was sing­le. I of­ten thought I could ne­ver find a man who would be si­mi­lar enough to me and would un­ders­tand my spe­ci­al quirks. Or that all of the best men had al­re­a­dy found a spou­se. Or that I should pro­bab­ly not even dream about so­me­o­ne I found at­t­rac­ti­ve be­cau­se that man would li­ke­ly find me comp­le­te­ly unin­te­res­ting.

I ad­mit I even thought that there must be so­met­hing wrong with the men who did not have a wife. Or el­se that there was so­met­hing wrong with me and no-one would ever even find me ap­pe­a­ling be­cau­se I ne­ver had anyt­hing in­te­res­ting to say in a big­ger group. And yet, God al­lo­wed out paths to cross in a life si­tu­a­ti­on where we both nee­ded a com­pa­ni­on.

On our way back from the lake we fol­lo­wed paths made by ani­mals, un­til the soft and wet bog for­ced us to seek hig­her ground. I felt bub­b­ly with hap­pi­ness. We had a place where we could come to en­joy the sights and sounds of na­tu­re wit­hout any ot­her pe­op­le wit­hin a ra­dius of a ki­lo­me­ter or more.


Hyvä on sen osa, joka luottaa Herraan, ei etsi apua pahan voimilta eikä käänny niiden puoleen, jotka valhetta palvelevat. Ps. 40:5

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