Just a Simple Light

Reflections from My Granny’s Cottage

By Tuula Pere

November 29^th, 2020

Just a Simple Light – Reflections from My Granny’s Cottage

November in the Helsinki area makes me sometimes worry about the possibility of the light never returning. The daylight moments become shorter and shorter, and the earth’s dark surface without snow swallows most of the rays of light.

I know this sounds too gloomy, especially as I intend to write about light.

This odd year, 2020, seems to make the darkness of autumn darker than ever. Now, there is every reason to think about the lights to come and the lights from the past.

In Finland, we have to wait some months until the sun of early spring reflects from the snowdrifts so bright that it hurts the eyes. Before that, there are other kinds of lights to look forward to – and I don’t mean the flashing in shopping malls. I mean the reflections from the memories and the candles of today.

Let me tell you about my grandmother, who lived the last decades of her life alone in a small cottage in the countryside. In her house, there was a lamp hanging from the ceiling of both rooms. But she didn’t heat the other room to save wood, so she slept in the other. That room was Granny’s kitchen, living room, and bedroom – all in one.

I know her cottage was very modest indeed, but for me, it was a warm place to visit. I often stayed there with her when the rest of my family drove to see other relatives.

That cottage doesn’t exist anymore, but it stays forever in my mind. I can still hear my Granny telling me about her life, which wasn’t always easy. She told me as much as she could reveal to a child. She also influenced me as a storyteller.

What did I learn? Life is not always fair, and the weakest ones are often struggling on the edge of their capacity. They often depend on the help of the more fortunate ones.

I also learned that one could be happy for a box of plain white candles and some food supplies, received just before Christmas from the church. I would have liked to give my Granny a lot more, but she passed away before I had much to offer. But I think that we shared so much, talking to each other, during all those hours in some twenty years we had. Often there was music or the news from her old radio in the background as we had some cups of coffee and biscuits together.

When I got my driving license, I took Granny to a cafeteria. It was such a special moment, as I had just been accepted to Helsinki University to study law. That made my Granny’s eyes shine. I saw that special twinkle when she introduced me to the waitress there. Her granddaughter will become a lawyer. That was something she could never expect, being a daughter of a miller and the wife of a poor shoemaker herself.

In this dark November, I often light some plain white candles. They are precisely similar to those, my Granny had in her cottage. And the glow of light is just the same.