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Meet Traute Klein,
AKA biogardener.

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Meet Traute Klein, biogardener.

Christmas Is no Time for Suicide

by Traute Klein, biogardener

An unexpected Christmas dinner invitation turns around the path of a woman who had lost hope in life.

Christmas Day?

Year after year, we used to spend this day with my family at my brother's house. It had become a family tradition. This year for the first time, we were not invited. I was no longer welcome in the homes of my siblings, at least not by the ones who live in this city. I was no longer the Traute with whom people feel comfortable. I did not even feel comfortable with myself.

What had happened to me? I did not want to go to church. I did not want to see anyone. I did not want to talk to anyone. I was afraid that someone would ask me, "How are you?" I had no answer to that question. I was not fine. I had no idea how I was. I just wanted to be left alone, and if I had had the energy, I would just have wanted to run away. Where to? Who cared. Just get away from this place where everything reminds me of happier days, of days before I was disabled by the speed of a drunk driver.

And one thing for sure I did not want. I did not want to hear or speak that strange language called English. I wanted to hear my mother tongue.

German spoken here

My husband, Ernie, knew of one place in Winnipeg where I would hear German spoken, the German Club. It does not have the family atmosphere which I craved. I knew the people around me, but they were not my friends. Christmas! I needed my family around me.

One lady at the club, Gisela, seemed to be even more depressed than I was. She did not look happy at the best of times, but this day her expression was just plain miserable. Her presense did not inspire happiness in me. For some strange reason, Ernie insisted on paying extra attention to her on this Christmas Day, even though talking to her was like pulling teeth.

I did not want to talk. I just wanted to go home.

Ernie insisted on inviting Gisela to come with us to share Christmas dinner. Where were we going to have Christmas dinner on this holiday when most businesses give their staff the day off? We eventually found one restaurant which was open and ordered fried chicken. And throughout this dinner, Gisela spilled out the depressing story of her life.

A Life Wasted

She had come to this country as a young bride 40 years ago. Her Canadian husband slipped out of his Prince Charming costume soon after their arrival in his homeland. Like so many veterans, he had learned to drown his war stresses and memories in alcohol. His family did not prepare the welcome which this bride would have needed to feel at home in a strange land with a strange language, with strange customs, and without friends or family to encourage her.

A divorce followed before children entered this unhappy situation. Gisela was stuck in a strange land. She did not have the financial resources to return to her homeland, and she did not want to admit that her adventure had turned into a nightmare. She did learn to speak the English language well enough to hold a job, but she never reconciled herself to Canadian customs. Her only social connections where at the German Club, but even there, she made no friends. Others had families. No one had time for a single woman, especially one who did not know how to smile. Everyone except my husband, Ernie. And I got drawn into it.

I did not mind listening to Gisela. Her German is flawless. It meant a lot to me to be able to take it in. It made me feel like being with family. And after hearing her story, my situation did not seem as hopeless as I had thought.

A Life Saved

Years passed. We no longer visited the German Club. I found friends who replaced my lost siblings. I started attending a church where no one asks me, "How are you?" No one knows of my previous personality. I built a new life for myself.

One Sunday morning, one of the parishioners, knowing that I was of German origin, asked me if I knew Gisela Schulz, a lady who lived in her apartment block. No, that name did not ring a bell. The Gisela I had known was Gisela Worthing.

Doris did not give up. The next Sunday she brought along a photo of Gisela. There, looking at me, was a chubby lady with a big smile. No, I did not know that Gisela. The one I used to know was skinny as a rail, and she never smiled.

Well, I was wrong. This used to be our unhappy Gisela. That dinner invitation had turned her life around. She had planned that Christmas to be her last, but changed her mind because of the kindness which Ernie showed her. She started to see life in a different light and is now described as jovial by her neighbors. She found new love with a German immigrant and remarried. Today, she is still happy, smiling, and chubby. And I am proud to have a husband who was able to see a soul in need. I am also happy to have had a small part in saving the life of that soul.

Note:
This is a true Christmas story, but names and details have been changed to protect my friends' privacy. I did not change the facts of my husband's or my own involvement in this story.