To give a little background history: His father, Cornelis, a young baker, had been kidnapped by Nazi soldiers in the spring of 1941 about a year after the invasion. Just eighteen years old at the time, he went to work one morning to his job at the bakery where he had apprenticed and worked since the age of fourteen, and didn't return. Witnesses could only report that he had been taken away forcibly by German troops. His family didn't hear from him again for over four years and were convinced that he was dead.
Actually, he had been taken to Berlin and forced to bake for the uppercrust of the German military ranks. Held prisoner, he worked long hours baking bread and also fancy cakes and pastries for almost four years. During that time he had never been allowed to leave the building where he worked. He was often bullied and beaten by German bakers who also worked there. Half-starved and sick, he survived by sheer will and also by the kindness given him by a motherly German woman who was a cook. She sneaked extra food to him, and also nursed him when he was sick. He and another young man escaped after heavy bombing had destroyed much of the building that sheltered them. They turned themselves into some American troops, and at first had difficulty persuading them that they were in fact Dutch, and not German, and had been held prisoner all these years. Papa's father was repatriated home to Holland in April, 1945 and when he so unexpectedly presented himself in the kitchen of the family house, his mother fainted.
Cornelis and Eva, taken on the day they became engaged in 1946.
As news of the liberation of their country by Canadian troops reached the Dutch people, thousands flooded the streets to celebrate. Cornelis Maurits, now 22 years old, went with his brother to visit a friend in Bloemendaal, a tiny village near Haarlem. Bloemendaal was the birthplace of a lovely young woman, also 22, named Eva Hellewaard. She had lived there all her life. They were two of dozens of people who spilled out into the streets that day. Music was played. Impromptu dancing and singing began. At a corner junction known as the Heuvelweg, on a beautiful country road lined with trees, a young man grabbed a young woman, and pirouetted her into the street. They were unknown to each other, but as they danced together, by the end of the afternoon, they knew each others' names, Cornelis (known as Cor) and Eva. The courtship which began that day was to last for over fifty years. They were married on October 23rd, 1946, and had four children, of which Papa is the third child and only son.
Papa, Nana and Ariana stand at the place where so long ago two young people danced in celebration. It was a sacred moment for each of us to be there, to stand on that ground where feet danced and people sang, to breathe in the air, and trace our fingers along the wrought iron fencing. This is the place where the beginnings of our family were created, and our hearts and eyes were filled with both tears and lingering love.
View from across the street from the Heuvelweg. That house has been there for almost 200 years. Papa's cousin, Henk, tells us the area has hardly changed since that day in 1945.
Before leaving Bloemendaal we stopped to visit a nearby deer park, which Ariana enjoyed very much.
"The one in the middle is looking at me!", said Ariana.
Four deer and one very pregnant goat!
This chapter is written in memory of Ariana's beloved Great-Oma, Eva Hellewaard Maurits, who died on September 14th, 1997.
and also of
Ariana's Great-Opa, Cornelis Maurits, who died on August 7th, 2001. How delighted and proud they both would have been of her!
At Opa's funeral in the eulogy, Papa spoke of his parents beginnings. "They are reunited and once more they dance together", he said.
Women dancing in the street in 1945 as they celebrate the end of World War II. (Taken from Google Images.)
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