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Once upon a time, there was a little girl who loved stories. Stories about a place called home which she could not remember still made her want to go back there. Stories about persons she did not know made her want to meet them. Stories about a home far away made her homesick. She was traveling with her family, stopping at different places, staying with strangers in various houses. This was the only life she knew.

The story about a place somewhere far away was constant. It was in the country where the little girl was born. The people who lived there were called Morfar and Mormor and Moster. The home was called 
Mummola Each time the family moved her siblings asked, “Why are we going to a new place again?” “Why can’t we go back to Mummola?” “When are we going back to Mummola?”
At each new place, they waited eagerly to see if a letter from someone at Mummola had reached their new destination. Each letter was addressed to their mother, with a c/o name before a new st…
Recent posts

ABC book

Is there any meaning in what happens to us in our life?
How do we know whether the path we choose will lead to the right destination? Many people wonder whether there is a plan or a destination for their life at all.
For I know what I have planned for you,’ says the Lord.  ‘I have plans to prosper you, not to harm you.  I have plans to give you a future filled with hope. Jeremiah 29:11
When I was a child, I used to think that everyone else lived their lives like our family did. I thought everyone moved from place to place, country to country, town to town, house to house.  Maybe my rootlessness gave this story such an impact in my life. When I was seven, I found this Swedish book in a house we moved to. A Swedish family had lived there.   VILL DU LÄSA?  (DO YOU WANT TO READ?) 

Of course, I wanted to read the book with such a title. I could read English books already when I was four years old. I begged my mother to teach me to read this book. Swedish was her language. We spoke Finnish, my f…

The Tea Set


For my sixteenth birthday, I received a beautiful tea set. I never owned anything so beautiful before. I don’t know how my parents could afford to buy it for me. Just one year later I had nothing else but the sugar bowl and the milk jug. I’m sure the set never was used. We lived in a house on the east bank of Sri Lanka’s longest river, the Mahaweli Ganga, at 1060 Peradeniya Road, Kandy.
Each evening I called from the balcony facing the river, “Come and look at the sky! Come and look at the sky!” Whoever was at home rushed out to see what was going on. The ever-changing colors of the sunset expressed a beauty that no artist can capture. The wind blowing through bamboo groves by the river sang me to sleep each night. The numerous birds' chatter and whistling woke me each morning.

There were numerous changes in my life throughout that year. What happened to the cups was just a culmination of everything else.

Seven weeks after my birthday, just a few days before the twins t…

I stand amazed

I Stand Amazed


Welcome to join me in finding our story.
Where does one begin a story?
Once upon a time...

There are numerous untold stories unfolding daily in each of our lives.
Thanks to modern technology, I am finding old
- and new friends -
almost every week.

It is hard for me to concentrate on a single line of my story.  Maybe I must write first to sort out the tangled threads of my life.  As I have lived around the globe, who knows what the final picture will be like.

I welcome comments and reflections from my readers.

I hope to add other blogs and posts as I go along.

Just a few days ago I discovered a member of one family I knew 60 years ago in Ceylon. We never lived in the same town, but we met occasionally when we traveled with my father. Their two girls, a few years younger than me, sang beautifully. I envied their confidence, as I was terribly shy.
I remember one tropical evening when I was ten. We had just returned to Ceylon after two years in Finland. We arrived late to …