News About Carnival Girl, the Book

I have received the proof of the memoir, Carnival Girl, and will have them back to the editor next week sometime.

I still haven't got a picture for the title page, nor a link. I guess a link would be pretty early, since the book isn't scheduled to be published till June. I'll keep you informed of any and all news regarding Carnival Girl!

The Baby Shower, Part 2

After church we drove home along a wide street flanked by low, stretched-out buildings. which looked like I had landed in a Wild West movie set. We were home in no time, and I wondered why we hadn’t walked. True, it was March and snow still crowded the mostly snow-free streets, but it hadn’t been that far. In Germany, no on would drive such a short way. But I wasn’t in Germany anymore, and my baby would be born here. Which reminded me of the baby shower. I’d never hear of parties for people who had babies before. In Germany, after the baby was born, friends would stop by with a present, but not before, and not with a party.

Before I came to Colorado, I didn’t know what life would be like in the United States, and I wanted to be prepared, so I had mailed the baby clothes my sister had given me from her toddler to my future home. Also, I thought having baby clothes from home would make it seem as if I were still there, not in a strange country, cut off from my three sisters and my mother.

My thoughts returned to the baby shower. At my in-laws’ home we exited the car. I turned to Verna. “The people who come will bring presents? Are they for the baby or for the mother?” I asked.

Mother Towne turned into the driveway. She said, “They are for the baby, so you are prepared in case he comes early. And, don’t worry. You will have fun.”

But my sisters wouldn’t be there and my mother couldn’t attend the birth. I wondered if I ever again would have fun.

When I decided to follow Gary to his country, I had been full of enthusiasm. I knew I would be happy in Colorado, and my child would grow up to be an American. But now all of it felt wrong. I was living with strangers in a strange land, and Gary wasn’t there to comfort me. I wished I were home.

Baby Shower, Part One

I stood next to Verna in the foyer of the small LDS church, so different from the old majestic stone churches I was used to in Germany, and smoothed the maternity top over my protruding belly. Three older women came up to us, talking to my new mother-in-law, who introduced me to her friends. While they talked, I wondered what I was doing here, thousands of miles away from my own family, with my husband gone to New Jersey to finish the final months of his stay in the Army.

He wouldn’t be here for the birth of our child. I blinked my suddenly smarting eyes to keep in the tears. A vast homesickness settled over me, for the familiar things I had left behind when I followed my husband to this strange place in the Wild West of the United States.

A young woman, about my age, and also visibly pregnant, stopped us on the way out. Mother Towne introduced her as Peggy.

Peggy shook my hand and said, “I’m looking forward to coming to your baby shower on Friday.”

I was confused. Maybe I had misunderstood? I had immigrated from Germany just three weeks ago, six months pregnant. I didn’t always understand everything in this strange language. Trying to make sense of what Peggy had said, I answered, “Baby shower? Do you mean to wash the baby? Or to show it? The baby isn’t born yet.”

Peggy joined my mother-in-law in laughter. “It’s like a party. Everybody brings a present and we’ll have games and things to eat.”

A party was the last thing on my mind. I pasted a smile onto my face and said, “Thank you.”

Verna searched my face. “It will be fun, you’ll see.”

I nodded, not believing her.

I'll tell you more tomorrow!

Attending Church in Colorado

Before Gary left for New Jersey and the last four months of his stint in the army, he took me to church. Again, I returned to Gary’s parents’ house culture shocked. In Germany, church is hushed and quiet. Nobody speaks to anyone, and children are either left at home or taken out as soon as they make a noise. When I was young, I often went to church services in the old stone cathedrals, or at least in a large stone building, heavy and dark and intimidating. Most of the churches in Germany are centuries old, and they are trying to show the believers how insignificant they are and how great and unapproachable God is.

However, here in the States, the bright, wooden chapel seemed almost like an afterthought, just somewhere the congregation can safely and comfortably meet. People actually laughed when the preacher said something funny. It seemed faintly sacrilegious, but I liked it. Maybe these Americans have it right and God has a sense of humor, I thought. I might as well like their strange, new ways. After all, I had adopted this country as my new home, and would probably live here for the rest of my life. 

 At that time, the Mancos LDS Church looked similar to this one

After the service, Gary introduced me to the Bishop. When the Bishop heard that I would be alone with the older Mr. Towne in a country I didn’t know, he shook my hand and told me to be sure and come to church. He’d have some of the Relief Society ladies visit and help me out.

Gary had dinner with his father and me, and then he had to leave. He assured me I would be fine, and he’d call as soon as he’d arrive at his post. There was no helping it, he had to leave and I had to stay here, in a place I hardly knew, with an older man who was a stranger to me and a mother-in-law in the hospital.

More tomorrow!