The Icelandic Canadian - 01.09.2000, Side 33

Vol. 56 #1
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
31
The Baldursbra
by Mattie Clegg
Eirikur & Olof Johannsson had retired
from farming and moved into a small, two
room cottage on their son’s property in town.
They were our new neighbors, and grand-
parents to my friend Christine and her sib-
lings. They spoke only Icelandic, but we were
able, with our limited knowledge of the lan-
guage, to converse with them.
I felt envious that Christine had these two
grandparents and another grandmother living
near by, as I had only one grandfather, who
lived miles away, that I rarely saw. I decided
to do something about the situation, and at the
age of five, I asked Eirikur & Olof if I could
“borrow” them as grandparents. This was
very well received!
Eirikur was a dapper old gentleman, short
in stature, and walked with precise, quick
movements. He had bright blue eyes and thick
white hair and mustache. His voice was very
deep and resonant.
Olof was slim, dark eyed, with long gray-
ing hair, braided, and neatly wrapped around
her head. She was a reserved and dignified
woman who seldom spoke. She seemed
always to be knitting; needles clicking at a
fast, even pace and socks and mittens would
emerge, created from the yarn she had so
meticulously spun. Whether knitting or spin-
ning, she seldom looked at her work except
for a quick and occasional glance.
Their house contained the bare necessi-
ties - a large wood stove, a wood box with two
water pails on the top of it, a kitchen table
covered with oilcloth, chairs, an old, low,
rocking chair, a small cupboard with a coal oil
lamp positioned on the top shelf. In one cor-
ner sat the spinning wheel, its spindles
smooth from wear, and next to it, on the floor,
a box with wool carders, yam, and a supply of
raw wool.
The other room contained a bed, a chest
of drawers, and the old trunk they brought
with them from Iceland when they emigrated.
Clothes were hung on coat hooks fastened to
the wall as there were no closets. A shelf on a
kitchen wall held an assortment of treasured
books, the space shared by a lovely old clock
that chimed out the time, every quarter hour.
Quite frequently a slight bouquet of Snuff
could be detected in the air and there was often
the savory aroma of soup simmering on a back
burner of the stove. Their little home was
warm, homey and safe.
From about 1934 to 1938 the
Heimskringla, one of the two weekly Icelandic
papers from Winnipeg, published a series of
children’s stories and Icelandic lessons; it was
called “Baldursbra.”
When I was ten years-old, Mother
arranged with Eirikur to teach me to read
Icelandic. Every Saturday at 10 A.M. I would
call on the Johannssons’ for my lessons.
Eirikur sat at one end of the small table, Olof,
with her knitting, at the other, and I, between
them, with the Baldursbra spread out in front of
me.
The old man was very patient, exacting
and thorough. My readings were punctuated
by an encouraging loud “Ja” (yes) from my
mentor, and an approving smile and nod from
Olof, as I struggled through the difficult pro-
nunciation. Eirikur had me master the alphabet
with all its various vowel sounds and extra let-
ters. After this was accomplished, the reading
went well.
I treasured my Icelandic lessons and the
time spent with these two special people. It was
a positive and loving atmosphere in which to
learn. I wonder if my special Anima and Afi
ever realized how much they gave by taking the
time to teach their “acquired granddaughter”
the basics of her Mother’s language.
Thank you, Eirikur & Olof.
Editor's note:
Eirikur Johannsson emigrated to Canada in
1891 at age 28, with him came Olof
Ingolfsdottir, age 29. Registered with them
were Margret Solveig Eiriksdottir, aged two
and also Johann and Ingibjorg under the age of
one. They were from Gilkot in
Skagafjardarsysla.