Wupperthal, then and now
Over here, and on the other side of 80, I was paging through the Autumn 2021 issue of Platteland – reading all the bits that resonated with me and moved me. This evoked a wondrous nostalgia. A dear friend in England once said to me: “You know, my dear, at our age it’s nostalgia that keeps us alive and keeps us going.”
Lüneburg. More than 50 years ago, when I studied at a teachers’ college in Pretoria, two fellow students who sang in the choir with me were Kurt Gevers and a Mr Niebuhr whose first name I cannot recall. I have not seen them since 1967. On one particular choir tour we performed in Wittenberg, another German settlement. Theo van der Walt and I were hosted by Baron von Geelwortel and we were spoilt beyond imagination with traditional German fare. The hospitality was unbelievable.
Willene van der Merwe’s garden of cuttings was exceptional. I could almost smell the fragrances.
Wenda van Aswegen’s succulent story provided a spark of inspiration. Our little garden is going to be quite different in a year’s time. She has great solutions for small spaces – ours at the retirement home is only 3 m x 5 m. I won’t need to ask anyone to water it for me when I go away on a trip.
Wupperthal. Let me tell you a story. We were amazed at the unbelievable natural beauty of the Cederberg – and on 31 December 1999, together with our children from the Netherlands, we spent the night in this gem of a dorpie. We were warmly welcomed and invited to the midnight service starting at 11 o’clock. When we arrived at the church, we “inkommers” were greeted and shown to our seats. The place was packed to the rafters, and was it ever festive! At 11 o’clock sharp, a man stepped up to the pulpit and a holy silence descended. The man solemnly announced that the minister had taken ill and that he, as the head elder, would conduct the service.
He welcomed us specifically, after which he went on to explain the liturgy. As always, there would first be song, accompanied by the brass band, and then the reading of names of those who had passed on. Thereafter a sermon, and at the stroke of midnight the church bell would peal. Then, the brass band would ring in the new year.
Boy, could this elder ever preach! But then something went awry… At 5 minutes before midnight, with the elder having said all that he had to say, a complete silence fell while the band waited for midnight. He looked at his watch… and finding his second wind, continued with the sermon without keeping an eye on the time.
At precisely midnight, the bell began ringing and, before the elder could say “Amen”, the brass band took its cue as the year 2000 finally bade farewell to 1999. Without the final Amen.
Everyone then wished each other a prosperous new year – as only the Wupperthallers can. Most wonderful of all was that we were no longer “inkommers” there, but fellow Wupperthallers. It remains an unforgettable memory.
Then came the devastating fire. And after that, the miracle. Each “then” and “now” photo touched our hearts – this was the answer to our prayers. Following the devastation that had occurred, we had beseeched our Father for consolation, healing and recovery.
A piece of the old Wupperthal has passed away. Behold, all things have become new.
Thank you for a magazine that makes life beautiful.