![]() ![]() ![]() She merely turned away, and a crease began to appear between Papa’s eyes, something that we boys always took note of, however far we were from him. Papa shook his head to try to make Mama ashamed of her cowardliness, saying, what will the boys think of having such a cowardly mother!īut this had no effect. That meant that she would not for any price consent to such a reckless action. ‘Ni za chto, ni za chto!’ cried Mama, waving her arms as if to protect herself. Papa had already put on his skis, and merely asked Mama to hurry up. Covering her eyes with her hands, as if afraid even to contemplate such danger, she fairly squealed with terror. He wanted her to stand on the skis behind him and hold on to the belt of his greatcoat, so that they could ski down the slope together. Once back at the top, he pointed his skis downhill again and shouted for Mama. We forgot Papa completely, and did not notice him until he was back on the slope. Growling, she crawled out from behind the juniper. We squealed and burrowed deeper into our nests. She went behind a bushy juniper, hooked her fingers frighteningly in front of her face, and pretended to be a bear. She dug nests in the snow, and we crouched in them. To make the long wait shorter, Mother invented a game for us to play. But she was astonished that Papa dared stand up on his skis, when he could have sat. What a long time we had to wait before he came back to us! On reaching the plain, he grows smaller and smaller, and, finally, is only a dot, far, far away. His downhill speed is terrifying, even though he is standing up on his skis. Now he pushes with his skisticks and sets off down the slope. Papa is wearing a pale grey officer’s greatcoat with silver buttons on his head is a dark military fur hat, and on his feet shining knee-boots. The snow has a yellowish sheen, like the sun itself. The snow glitters with sparkling brightness. I remember that dazzling, bright slope as if it were yesterday. In places the snow was so hard that we could run along it as if along the floor. I remember the steep, snow-covered slope, which our cheerful mother good-humouredly helped us climb, carrying each of us in turn, from time to time setting us down in the deep snow, in which we sank up to our waists. Mama was wearing a tight half-length fur coat on her head she had a brownish-grey fur hat whose top part was made of dark red velvet. Presumably Mama, too, saw downhill skiing for the first time on that occasion, and she was amazed to see how it was done, standing, with one foot on each ski. ![]() Our other brother, Eerik, was still too small for such expeditions, and had been left at home. Elisabet held us both by the hand, Kasper and me. I remember a glorious walk with my father and mother.Īlexander had his skis with him. One of my earliest memories of my parents, Alexander and Elisabet, is a scene from early spring that must be located somewhere in the vicinity of Viipuri, in those distant times when the young couple, having moved from St Petersburg, had lived for only a few years in Finland, where my father held the post of director of the topographical district. An extract from Vanhempieni romaani (‘My parents’ story’, 1928–30). ![]()
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