When I Was Born in Holland
On a farm, in the province of Friesland, near the little village of Deersum, I was born on the ninth day of the year.
Note: This article has been excerpted from a larger work in the public domain and shared here due to its historical value. It may contain outdated ideas and language that do not reflect TOTA’s opinions and beliefs.
“When I Was Born” from When I Was a Girl in Holland by Cornelia De Groot, 1917.
On a farm, in the province of Friesland, near the little village of Deersum, I was born on the ninth day of the year. My advent caused quite an excitement, just as that of each of three sisters and two brothers had done previously. One brother had not lived for me to know him.
That same day an elderly woman waddled from house to house all through the village and up the road and across meadows to the farmers. She knocked at the doors, called "Folk in," and when the housewife appeared, extended to her the greetings of my parents, told her that a little girl had been born to them and invited her to the celebration to be held ten days from then.
I was laid in a big, old-fashioned wicker cradle on rockers, on a soft, downy bed, between snow-white sheets and covered with the softest blankets. Over the whole of the cradle, touching the floor, was draped a cover of heavy green damask, to keep the draft out.
During the next ten days, little blond, red-cheeked girls came trudging through the snow. Some were carrying parcels in their mittened hands, others had flat red-painted boxes. They knocked at the front door, called "Folk in," and were led into the house. They placed the parcel or the box in the hands of the maid and timidly said:
"The compliments of mother, and here is a present."
The present appeared to be a dress, an apron, a petticoat, or a pair of socks, if it came from a parcel, but if it was taken from a box it was bound to be a large layer-cake or several small tarts, baked by the village baker or bought in the nearest town, and intended for the party. Then the fat nurse would lead the shy little girl to the cradle, push the green cover slightly aside, and ask:
“Isn't baby pretty?"
And the little girl would place her finger in her mouth and nod, "Yes."
"Don't you wish you had such a new baby sister?"
And again she would nod and stammer a faint "Yes," while all the time she was afraid that I might wake up and start to cry. I fear some of these little girls when they said "Yes" and nodded were telling a little fib so as not to hurt my feelings. Now the girl was led into the big living-room and seated on an old-fashioned chair with reed bottom; on the table before her was placed a dainty, crisp Dutch rusk covered with butter and sugar.
This she ate, that I might grow up into a healthy and strong child.
I had been swaddled around tightly with such a lot of heavy, woolen cloths, from my neck to the ends of my red toes, that I somewhat resembled a cocoon. Thus I was dressed for four weeks; after that I appeared in petticoats, dress, and apron.
When I was ten days old, I gave my first real party, or rather, it was given by my mother in my honor. At about ten or eleven in the morning, a large number of village women and farmers' wives, some young and slim, others middle-aged and fat, came filling the enormously big front-room. My mother and her guests—about thirty women—were seated around the table in the center of the room. The women belonged to every social rank of our village. They did a lot of talking, and one by one they took me in their laps and chattered, and smiled at me, and they all gave my mother a great deal of advice.
On the table stood several cakes, rich and full of currants. There were also large, decorated layer-cakes, small tarts and deliciously spiced "koeken." A koek is a long cake. And there were many sorts of cookies. But the most important part of the feast was the cup with "boerejongens" or farmer-boys. Now, don't be horrified! These good women were no cannibals; they did not eat little boys. The "boerejongens" were only boiled raisins steeped in brandy, to which sugar and spices had been added. The old-fashioned, beautifully wrought silver cup had somewhat the shape of a loving-cup, and was filled and emptied several times. From this cup the "boerejongens" were dipped with a solid silver spoon into the glasses near the plates of the guests.
In former times, no glasses were used, and the cup with the tablespoon did the rounds from guest to guest; helping himself, each person drank a spoonful when his turn came. But in later years people became finical and each preferred a glass with a small spoon to himself.
And so the women feasted and chattered and gave advice and laughed at each other's jokes until it was time for them to go home at about three or four in the afternoon.
Like my sisters and brothers, I received as a present from my parents a large, beautiful, solid silver tablespoon with my name and date of birth engraved on it.
De Groot, Cornelia. When I Was a Girl in Holland. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.
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