Monday 25 January 2021

Coincidence - A Magical Memory from Annie Whitehead

Over the next month I will be adding some wonderful, coincidence, stories from amazing authors. Today's story comes from top selling author, Annie Whitehead.


Do we all have a time in our childhood that we hold onto in our memories because it was especially magical? For me it was the years when we lived in the Netherlands. My dad was working at the NATO base there and I attended the international school, which had bleachers around the sports track, and a mini town laid out for when we took our cycling proficiency test. I was only 8 when we moved there, staying until I was not quite 11, and had mad, innocent crushes on the 12th-grade US students who had long hair and wore cool clothes. I still recall the names of my friends, and my best friend Julie especially; in the forces we made friends quickly and cherished them, knowing that at any moment our dads could be posted and we’d have to move away.

Our first house there was a kind of farmhouse on the very edge of the village, and it boasted a mini pig sty - great for my guinea pig! - a chicken house which served me as a Wendy House, and a little orchard at the end of the garden with a gate to open fields beyond. Our second house was an ultra-modern flat-roofed affair, with a spiral staircase and bare brick feature walls. Christmases were perfect, with parties for all the children at the base, and I was there when THE Christmas song by Slade first came out. I still remember my gifts: a green pogo stick and a jigsaw depicting historical scenes photographed at Castle Howard. (History and mad forms of exercise still play a huge part in my life!)


Was this time special to me because, with my elder siblings at school in England, I had my mum all to myself for a while? Or is being a very-nearly-but-not-quite-teenager just a great age to be anyway? Were the people more friendly, the winters more frosty and clear, or is that my memory playing tricks? Even though I was young, I noticed the astonishing beauty of the countryside. This was not the Netherlands of the canals and tulip fields; this was a village nestling on the German border, and years later when I saw the painting
Avenue at Middelharnis by Hobbema, I recognised it.

Schools from then on weren’t army schools and new girls like me weren’t so readily accepted. Often I’d find myself confronted by local pupils who didn’t understand my nomadic life. I didn’t often fit in and then, if and when I did, I began to hate the moves that took me hundreds of miles away from all I knew.

Still, I managed. I grew up. And after taking a year out, I went off to study for my degree. I made friends, firstly with the girl in the room opposite mine who had the art book where I saw the Hobbema painting for the first time. I said, “That’s just like where I used to live.” We looked it up and discovered that the painting was indeed of a village in the Netherlands. Years later I learned that my grandfather had a copy of it and I’d never been aware. And no, this isn’t the only, or even main, coincidence of this story. I also made friends with a guy on my course. He made me laugh, and we shared the same taste in music which, I remember, was always an essential. I didn’t realise how much I had fallen for him until he went home for a few days. Lectures were suddenly a bit lonely. The bar was a bit empty. When he came back to college he had a smile that suggested he was pleased to see me. I knew then how I really felt about him. But did he feel the same way?

Christmas time helped. That Slade song still played but now the parties were a bit more raucous, with Students’ Union Bar prices rather than free jelly and ice cream. 

We got together. A few days later we met up in the canteen for a quick cuppa after lectures and before he went off to play football. I looked at the bag that had his kit in it. It was emblazoned with the name of that international school in the Netherlands. Yes, he said, he’d been there too - his dad had been in the forces.

A connection with my happiest past. And I didn’t even know about it until I’d already fallen in love.

 And yes, this is a true story.

 


Here are all my links:

Amazon http://viewauthor.at/Annie-Whitehead

Blog https://anniewhitehead2.blogspot.com/ 

Twitter https://twitter.com/AnnieWHistory

Website https://anniewhiteheadauthor.co.uk/

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/anniewhiteheadauthor/  

 

 

If you missed the other Coincidence stories, please click on the links ...

The Piper

An Hair Raising Coincidence

The Best Laid Plans

And Did Those Feet...


 Thank you as always for stopping by and please come back for more.

Take care of yourself and each other and I hope the sun is shining on your face and in your heart.

 Hugs

Pauline

 



2 comments:

Helen Hollick said...

Lovely true tale! Having toured the Netherlands I could picture that little village very well!

Pauline Barclay said...

Thank you Helen. We lived in the Netherlands for a few years so could easily relate to this wonderful story.