Our Opisto student completed his year Jämsä Opisto last spring. He was our first child to attend Opisto. With this minimal parental experience, I am happy to recommend Opisto to every young person.
This fall I started my fifth year in university. My studies have reached a point where there is only an uncompleted Master’s thesis between me and graduation.
I stand on the yard and gaze into autumnal twilight. My face is wet from drizzle. I take a deep breath. I know there are far too many things that require my attention. Too many expectations and demands. I stare into the deepening dusk. There is a lump in my throat. I feel so inadequate.
I was making notes for this blog post after eleven p.m. on Sunday evening. I was exhausted after a busy week, but I suddenly found myself humming with happiness instead of moaning with fatigue.
I am at Jämsä Opisto. Two confirmation camps of 50 students each are in process. One group is working downstairs, using the assembly hall when the whole group needs to be present as well as the outdoor dorms. We are upstairs. We do not have sauna, because the sauna section is within the territory of the downstairs camp. There is renovation going on in the kitchen. At lunch time we therefore run across the yard with our masks on into a big tent where large pots of heated soup are waiting. Mealtimes are staggered in such a way that the staff have time to disinfect the place in between the bubble groups.
The best way to get rid of one’s sense of well-being is to take on an excessive workload at the beginning of the summer.
I was waiting for mail from the editors of online Päivämies, wondering that the staff must be very busy not to have time even to acknowledge the reception of the blog post that I had recently sent! Finally, I went through my sent emails, but could not find the text I thought I had sent. It was not even in the drafts section.
In the morning dusk of the day commemorating children’s rights I was watching the Finnish flag flying on its pole. My mind was suddenly flooded with memories of my childhood and of the many children I have met over the decades.
My father served as a speaker for decades. When it was his turn to speak at services in our home congregation, it was always special for us, his children. I do not think I was ever nervous for my father. Maybe I did not even worry about such things as a child. But I do remember the special feeling I had when I sat at services, listening to my father speak.
Last summer I was able to attend the confirmation services of three grandchildren. They were festive occasions. The young confirmand may even be a bit embarrassed as the center of attention, surrounded by his or her grandparents, godparents, other relatives and friends who have come to celebrate.
We were leaving on a trip. It was already late on Sunday evening, and our son, who usually just drops in briefly, kept sitting in our home. Finally, I had to go out to take our bags into the car. Unexpectedly, the boy came out with me and began to share his thoughts. He felt attracted to a girl, but was not certain about his own feelings, nor the girl’s feelings. I encouraged him to contact the girl and to ask her if she would like to learn to know him better.
This past summer I spent a lot of time at Toijala cemetery, because my mother is no longer able to take care of our relatives’ graves. For many years already I have planted flowers on the graves in Toijala and also on my grandparents’ graves in Lempäälä and my sister’s grave in Urjala. My mother, however, has been responsible for watering the flowers on the nearby graves. Finnish summers are often so rainy that watering has not been a major task.
Blogit
Toimitus suosittelee
Viikon kysymys
Toimitus suosittelee
Viikon kysymys