In the mid-seventies, my ex-husband, his parents, and I went to West Germany for three months. At the beginning of our stay we lived with my father-in-law’s parents

Although I liked my exes grandparents, it was a difficult time for me. My German wasn’t the best, and as an American I was not used to the life that was expected of a housefrau. We lived in their apartment and our day was getting up in the morning making Frühstück, (breakfast) which consisted of bread, bread rolls, with cold meat and cheese or sweet spreads, depending upon what we had shopped for the night before. After Frühstück, the men went off to work, and the women cleaned house, and went shopping for Das Mittagessen, the main meal of the day, served at noon, and we spent hours cooking. The men came home for Mittagessen, and afterwards took a nap, while the women cleaned up the house, and went back to the store for Abendort, the evening meal, bread, rolls, meat, etc. As we cleaned up, the men sat and watched Fußball. Once or twice a week, we went to the cemeteries to clean up the graves of those who had passed away before, and put fresh flowers on them.

That was my life for the first two plus months of our time in Germany. Before we were to fly back to America, Mutti (my mother-in-law) wanted to see her mother’s grave near Munich, we rented a car and drove the five hundred plus miles from Wilhelmshaven to Munich, a seven hour plus drive. My father-in-law remembered the price of hotels near Munich, he was determined that they’d find a place with the price he had in his mind. Never mind that it was twenty years later.

After driving around the Munich area, stopping at every hotel or Gasthaus and finding them much more expensive. For the first time in our nine-year marriage I put my foot down. “I don’t care what or where it is, we are staying at the next place we find.” Well, that next place turned out to be a nunnery. Exhausted, we were ushered into our rooms, with a small bed, a cross over the bed, and a small table next to it.

At dawn the next morning the bells rang, and I got out of bed and looked out the window.

There I saw the poor, disabled, and beggar’s lined up to get their food for the day, and the nun’s doling it out. A few pieces of bread, cheese, and meat for each person. It is a memory that I will never forget. The gift of food for those in need, given at dawn, with the sound of bells ringing to call them.

I am happy that the German women found their voices.

Do you have a memory that you will never forget?