This is a delayed post, which is all about a moment captured on Thursday, 24 May 2018.
When I was walking up the hills towards the kindergarten, I saw some children waving at me enthusiastically from the sandbox. My little son William was among them. I noticed his shy smile. He had a rather reserved expression. He was proud, was he not? My visit was not unexpected as it turned out. The children knew they were going to have a very special reading time. A beautiful story about a crocodile named Clyde, told by the mother of William, written by her lovely blog friend Suzanne.
It was hot that Thursday. At that moment, I had no idea that the heat could last for weeks. The heat waves from Africa hit Norway (and Scandinavia), which I think is gorgeous. It makes up the cold winter which lasted until late April.
It was hot that afternoon, and the children seemed relieved when they were told to move into the building.
We gathered around my old PC. I was determined to make the children feel the magic I felt when I was reading Clyde for the first time. The poem was now translated from English to Norwegian. The consideration was given to every aspect of the text, the syntax, the word choice, and sentence structure. The translated text should match the original one in the best possible way. It was the aim. Clyde deserves it. I wrote the draft and it was then edited by my teenage daughter, who is exceptionally passionate about language.
It was not until I started translating the text sentence by sentence that I realised how much time and effort Suzanne had put into her writing. There were these carefully selected words, the rhymes, and the pictures attached to every paragraph that beautifully illustrated the feelings and emotions og a lost crochodile.
The story is about the extraordinary journey of searching for one’s home. The home of this little sweet crochodile Clyde, which seems to only exist in his dreams. Was it only an illusion, an unreachable dream?The disappointment of not being able to settling down, the feeling of sadness and confusion when getting lost, the doubts and the struggles, the hope and then… the deep happiness of coming home. It is the journey of Clyde, and it is the journey of our life.
The children paid careful attention to the words and the photos I showed them. Their beautiful eyes followed the movement of my arms. Some questions were raised along the way. Does Clyde have a dad and a mum? Where are his parents? Does he feel sad going on this journey on his own?
After the reading time, they were given the fruit ice lollies I brought to them. The sun was still high, shining brightly. Their smiles wide and warm.
“William leaned his body against yours during the whole reading time, stroking your arm tenderly,” Sunniva said. She was one of the staff at the kindergarten.
Oh really! I did not notice it at all, I was so focused. I tried to recall that moment. Oh yes he did, he was so quiet, his little hands moving back and forth. That moment, it is the treasure of life.
This post is particularly dedicated to my dear friend Suzanne ❤️
Below is the link to the beautiful story Clyde, written by Suzanne
(All pictures taken in May/June 2018, Oslo Norway)