Lying in her Chicago hospital bed, sirens screaming outside, Leonie smiled. She remembered the feeling of having a home.
If she stood fingertip-to-fingertip with Mama and Papa — their arms all outstretched like windmills — the multi-headed hydra they made could have touched both walls of their row house on Luftmattstrasse. The street was named for an air mattress. No one knew why and Leonie had stopped wondering. It was a good street for bike racing and fireworks on Swiss National Day. The street grandma, Frau Egli, would yell “Spielstrasse!” and chase the cars away so neighborhood kids could play.
Lying in her Chicago hospital bed, sirens screaming outside, Leonie smiled. She remembered the feeling of having a home.
Dee Lorraine
17/12/2021 07:21:10 pm
It is wonderful to have fond memories. A beautiful story, Sarah.
Sarah Samson
20/12/2021 07:54:41 am
Thanks so much!
Sue Clayton
18/12/2021 02:59:37 am
So many memories of our earlier lives can touch the heart.
Sarah Samson
20/12/2021 07:56:15 am
I feel like that now more than ever with the pandemic making it hard to see people and travel. Memories are so important. Thank you!
Candace Arthuria Williams
18/12/2021 04:58:49 pm
I was thinking, that sounds like a U.S. urban area. Helped to educate me about other parts of the world.
Sarah Samson
20/12/2021 07:53:42 am
That makes me so happy. Thank you. It’s a real street in Switzerland. I wanted to tell the story of an immigrant, far from home who was somehow sustained by a connection to her childhood home despite the time and distance. Comments are closed.
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