The Move and a Dolly Disaster

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When I woke up last Saturday morning, I never imagined for one minute that it would be the last time we’d be living in that house as a family. If I had, perhaps I would have felt much sadder and would have taken time to sit and reflect on all the great and not so great memories that I have in that house. I’d become very attached to it, although it may just be bricks and mortar. But it is the first place I called ‘home’ in France and I learnt and experienced many things within the confines of its walls.

The move or the ‘demenagement’ as I tend to think of it, started at 10 o’clock that morning. Cedric and Laetitia had been out earlier with the two little ones to hire a van, unbeknown to the three of us who were left at the house. So that morning I woke up to an unusually quiet atmosphere and two worried children, asking me where there Maman and Papa were. I however, knew<span> Cedric and Laetitia aren’t the abandoning type so happily munched on my toasted manela (which pleasantly reminded me of toasted tea cake – one of the things I should probably add to my ‘To Eat’ list for when I go back home – already on the list are fish and chips, a full English breakfast and fish fingers). Manela are in fact brioche-shaped men made at the beginning of December because of something to do with St.Nicholas.



After my delicious petit-dej (breakfast), I rushed round the lounge and kitchen in an attempt to make it more presentable for when the church cavalry arrived to help us. Part of me didn’t think I should bother because I was pretty sure I would receive no thanks for my efforts. When I feel like this I remind myself of my reward in heaven and that even if no one else notices what I do, God most certainly does. However, I was pleasantly surprised when Cedric and Laetitia did notice and thanked me for my efforts.



That morning seemed to be full of pleasant surprises as when I emerged from the shower I found a wonderful spread of cake and fizzy drinks ready for the cavalry who we were expecting to turn up to help us. Knowing that there would be plenty of cake and drink to keep us going throughout the day added to my sense of excitement and anticipation.



The first member of the cavalry who turned up that morning was the church pastor himself, Luc Bussiere, wearing an Eglise Josue t-shirt. I was quite surprised to see him, thinking he would be too busy to help us. Perhaps I have been wrong to think of him as a detached pastor who is usually too busy to shepherd his church.



But he wasn’t the only ‘high-profile’ figure to turn up that morning to help us. Patrick Schmitt, the school director and his 8-year-old, Josue also cam, as well as Frank Schmitt, one of the leaders of the church and his 11-year-old son. A few other less ‘high-profile’ men also turned up. Soon the house was full of men’s voices discussing the operation of the move, which suddenly began to feel more like a military operation than a simple house move. The first piece of furniture to leave was the sofa in all its worn, torn-out form.



Whilst the men and boys got busy lugging and lifting, Laetitia and I (the poor, weak females) were left in the house to pack what remained into boxes. By the time I got to packing the last bits of Anaice’s, including her precious dolls and Barbies, there were no boxes left so Laetitia told me to pack them into bin bags. But she later appeared with a pink box which Anaice had specifically asked to be used for packing her things. I therefore put the dolls, still in the bags, into the box. This last action of mine later would later turn me from a villain into a heroine but it’s just a pity that I ended up forgetting I’d done it.



The morning and early afternoon passed quickly and we made good progress. The house rapidly emptied, becoming less and less like the Fau family home I’d become settled in.



At 2:30 I excused myself from the house-moving work and headed over to Anna’s house for a scheduled Christmas get-together with the other English girls. Everyone was already there when I arrived, munching on cake and sipping mugs of mulled wine. When Anna handed me a mug I was sceptical I’d be able to finish it and still stay standing. Despite living in France for nearly four months, I haven’t drank that much wine so my body still hasn’t become accustomed to its effects. However, I must have managed to balance out the effects by eating cake and haribos at the same time.



After eating too much (I did anyway) we headed over to the Guebwiller Christmas market – my first time to set eyes on a famous Alsacian market which everyone here raves about. My built up excitement and anticipation quickly disappeared when I saw the small semi-circle of wooden cabins. I guess it didn’t help that everywhere was grey and wet. The stalls were only selling edible items – nothing that I could have bought as a souvenir, so after a two-minute tour round we decided to say our farewells. Before leaving, me, Anna and Rachel managed to get a scary-looking Monsieur to take a photo of us so we could at least say we’d been there, as disappointing as it was.



When I arrived back at the house all the cavalry had gone except for Pascal, a lady from church and Philippe, a man from the church who until not long ago thought I was German. They were sitting with Laetitia and Cedric on the leftover kitchen chairs in the middle of the empty lounge. It was quite sad to see everything had gone. When Laetitia had told me we would only start moving, I didn’t think we would finish moving too, not all on the same day. My bedroom over at the new place wasn’t and still isn’t finished so I knew there would be nowhere for me to stay, unless I wanted to stay with Anaice…erm…no thanks. Luckily Laetitia suggested that I stay at the apartment for the time being, which I was happy about, mainly because of its practical location with church and school.



However, my pleasure at being allowed to stay soon faded when I realized how scary and weird it felt to be living alone in a huge empty apartment at the top of a huge empty building. To add to my fear was the fact I had a door without a lock which opened onto the attic where workmen were doing work for the church. I would wake up in the morning to hear someone drilling and banging next door and I’d pray that they wouldn’t open the door to my room out of curiosity.



Back to the ‘dolly disaster’; earlier in the week I’d been asked by Laetitia if I knew where Anais’ dollies and Barbies were because they hadn’t yet been found and she rather said rather pointedly that it was ME who had packed them. I told her innocently enough that I’d put them in a black bin bag like she’d told me to, stupidly forgetting that I’d later put them into a cardboard box. When I told her this Laetitia looked at me in shock and expressed her hope that they hadn’t been thrown out by mistake. I was rather sceptical of this idea but after Laetitia had been down to the garage to search for them she still hadn’t found them. But of course she hadn’t checked the ‘special’ box, a box which I thought had already been opened and emptied. I watched as she went into Anais’ bedroom and thought that she was going to ask Cedric if he’d seem them but when I heard Anais’ wailing and crying I knew she’d told her of her fears that they’d been thrown out. I thought she might have waited until she was at least sure and thus saved a lot of unspoken blame being pinned on me. But the way I saw it, all three of us were responsible – I had put the dolls in the bin bag on Laetitia’s instructions, not all thinking that they would get mistaken for rubbish. Laetitia had apparently told herself that she put a label on them to prevent exactly that from happening, but she never got round to it. And Cedric, if he’d seen the black bag with Anais’ things, should have checked it was indeed rubbish.



I know however, that Anais saw me as the only one to blame and I think Laetitia and Cedric did too although of course they didn’t voice it. Anais on the contrary had no problem about making her feelings known, demanding why I hadn’t put her dolls in a box. As terrible as it was I didn’t feel guilty – it’s times like that when I wonder if I’m just plain heartless. But if only I’d remembered that I had put them in the box! Or if only someone had thought to look in there!



I remember thinking that my relationship with Anais had been ruined forever and that all my efforts to build a good relationship with her had been for nothing. I would always be known as the ‘dolly-killer’. I prayed to God for a miracle like the ones I read about in books all the time but I didn’t see how even God could retrieve a load of dollies from a landsite. But later that day, God did exactly that – He performed a miracle or rather He revealed to us what was right in front of our noses. Cedric came upstairs with a huge grin on his face and gave the ‘special box’ to Anais, saying that he had a present for her. We all waited with bated breath as she opened the box and I half-knew that I would be the dollies inside. When this indeed turned out to be the case I could have laughed and danced with joy. I thought Anais might have shared me joy but her reaction at seeing her beloved dollies safe and sound was considerably less dramatic than her reaction at the news that they’d been thrown out. She didn’t even bother to thank me. When I told Cedric and Laetitia of my happiness that they’d been found because Anais had blamed it all on me, they nodded earnestly in agreement as if to say ‘yes, we blamed it on you too.’ Nice. But luckily God did His miracle and I am no longer condemned guilty. Praise Him.

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