We are having a day of celebration, as we have never known before, it is so incredible.

René has become twenty-one years old, and Hans, how is it possible, has got married again exactly on his birthday to a girl, so beautiful, so sweet, someone so extraordinary, that all of us consider her as a gift from a heaven!

And this child does not actually belong to Hans.

It is a sin if I say it.

I must grant him that happiness.

I do that as well, but Hans himself says: I do not know what I did to deserve this ... Elsje is so amazing.

The good child is twenty years younger.

Hans sees that as a blemish on his mask, they are flecks, which agonizingly painstakingly leave a languishing feeling behind and are put on the bridal table like a beautiful vase of flowers, which no one can rearrange.

Those little flowers are as natural as possible, and that whole thing is positioned there and namely right under his nose.

They both have to look at it whether they want to or not, it is there!

And this is no present from one of us, Hans put this on the table himself.

We were able to admire it and all of us found it a miracle, you do not see something so beautiful every day.

When we had sucked ourselves full of this sweetness, we accepted of course that it was meant to be this way and bowed our heads to this law, this possibility of beginning a new life.

We celebrated today in Hans’ castle.

Hansi’s commonplace fun has been completely wiped out.

Hans fetched this child, this jewel of human beauty, somewhere from the Achterhoek.

You will not believe it, but there is no question of a farming origin.

Elsje is twenty-three and Hans, good heavens, I was also mistaken, he is almost forty-five.

This wonder, which became a professor so soon, has added another, but human wonder to himself and has become one with it.

If you see Elsje, you must think that this child possesses an inherited naturalness, which caresses me inwardly, does me good, as a connoisseur of the female gender, even if I have had very little to do with it.

She is like a flower in bud and I assure you that she is now already wearing sandals!

Now already ... and yet still so young.

She possesses an antiquity, a little voice, which places you before the universal talk of flowers of one colour ... that voice is as sweet as honey, with a natural warmth, as a result of which the very first sopranos came into being, which interpret to you the ‘song of the universe’, if you are open to sacred music, such as Sebastian Bach made them and left behind for us mortals.

Elsje is a great wonder!

She sings delightfully.

She could conquer the world in this way, but she does not do it.

Do you understand this?

I do not, but I will probably get to the bottom of it.

She is like a little butterfly, blue and pink, deep red-brown in colour, such as you see in southern countries, where a little animal like that received the universal colours and compared to which ours are just ordinary.

It is Elsje!

She also writes poetry.

On her wedding day she read out such a poem for us.

I wrote it down of course and kept it for later.

Here it is:

‘I am so quiet, but why?

I am so happy, but why?

Am I Life?

Am I Soul?

Am I Spirit?

I place all of this in your hands – I live for you the most.’

And later on this so wonderful evening we also heard:

‘I want to see the silence within me, truly!

I want to see that silence like space and if so,

Where will I be able to find all of this?

I am searching, I am living, I am like a wind , I want to give!

I want to see the day in the night

And if possible hear its whispering In the ‘Eternal Night’ ...

I want to get to know the winter

Summer, Autumn and Spring ...

If God wills, if He wills ...

Am I ready?

I sing my song,

I thought I could do it by

Giving everything, presenting everything.

Can I see Him then

Elevated above everything?

Being carried ... open to everyone ...

Will I receive it?’

I saw that René’s eyes almost bulged from their sockets with happiness.

And Hans did not begrudge him it, just as all of us.

The youth saw the youth revealing itself.

Elsje is an old woman ...

She loves Hans, she is open and conscious of her love for an older man, or, I know it, this life would succumb.

Hans came to me honestly – Karel and Erica were there – and asked:

‘Would you think, that I may do this, boys?

Am I too old for this child?

What do you think?

You know it, she is a revelation and she knows what she is doing ...!’

We said: that is your own business, Hans.

You must decide that for yourself.

We know that Elsje thinks you are a miracle.

Go towards your happiness, Hans ... accept it as a Divine gift.

It is no more than that!

So Hans married Elsje.

And all of us are her friends.

If she could manage it, she was with us.

Before this celebration took place, she already stayed for a few weeks with us, because Hans had to leave town and did not want to leave his Lotus behind alone.

Elsje knew what she was doing.

I spoke to her about it.

I received her answer, her feeling and thinking, before she would start.

Hans once told me:

‘I barely dare to touch this child, Frederik.

I am ashamed, but must I let this life perish?’

Of course there was a tint in it, a dent, because Elsje was not understood and was treated like a country girl.

Hans transformed Elsje in only a few months into a lady.

It was that, as a result of which Elsje accepted Hans, saw him as the spring, the autumn, the winter, the summer and her God, because she is religious!

The farming family from which she was born, laughs and is no longer fanatical about this world, but from the other side of the grave, so that this orphan-like emotional life puts her oar in it and she and Hans could take the plunge.

All together it meant that these two people would take care of each other.

Hans, the honest and upright man that he is, does not want to consider it, but Elsje said to him:

‘You see me as a young child, but I am not.

You think that will not go well anyway, but I will make sure of that.

I do not want a whippersnapper ... I am old inside.

You will not send me away, will you?

I love you, Hans.

What does it matter to me that you have been married.

Nothing, Hans, nothing!

I always hoped for a doctor.

Always!

Just believe me, we will get on well together.

Do you believe me, Hans, my boy?

Do you love me?

If you love me just a little bit, I will already be happy.

I will be a wife, a sister, a mother for you.

I can do that, because I am old, after all, I have learned so much.

If you wish to leave me behind here, then I will end my life, I do not belong here.’

Etcetera ...

Hans let me read a few letters, and I said in reply: Do it ... make this life happy.

You also have a right to it.

I look at all my children today.

Erica gave Elsje a beautiful garment, René one of his beautiful bouquets, because he has become a good painter, even if he is still learning and we have not nearly made it.

I go back in thoughts, I can see him before me, when we collected him from the institution and he could start his new life.

I went with him to Amsterdam the following day and showed him the works of the old masters, of Rembrandt.

He let slip: ‘If this Rembrandt van Rijn was still alive, Frederik, I would have lessons from him.’

‘There are more people who would want that, boy, but that supernatural man is no longer there.

And?

We can also be satisfied with other people, the very highest, René, will just beat you to the ground.

Take it a bit easier and do not search too high or we must later pay our toll.’

He could not be dragged away from the masters.

He could not get enough of them.

On the way he sank off into his own world and I could no longer reach him.

This world was completely closed off to me.

When we were almost home, he says:

‘And now I want to learn to draw and paint as it should be done, Frederik.

How do we find a master?’

‘I will send you to an academy, René.

You must first learn to draw there.

And then some anatomy lessons.

Meanwhile you will learn your own language properly.

I know that this is not so easy for you, but that is urgently necessary for your future.

You cannot live in this society without being able to write your name.

That is a first requirement.

Can you do it?’

‘I will try, Frederik.’

‘I will help you.

The books are already there. We will therefore start two things at the same time, but one helps the other.

You will go with me next week to Amsterdam.

We will look for a master for you there.

At home you will study.

We will look for a language teacher in our neighbourhood, who will teach you proper Dutch.

If it is possible, soon another language to add to it.

If you want to go to the East with me later, you must speak good English, otherwise it is no use to you.

I would have to explain all those wonderful things to you, because you do not know the language and then the nice part of it is already lost.

You will do our friends there a great pleasure with this.

I promise you, if you do your best, we will have that incredible trip.

Are you not longing for that?’

‘Of course, Frederik.

I will do everything for it.’

We went to a master.

I found what I wanted.

The man has started and René did his best.

He made of it what could be made of it.

The first six months were a torture for him.

However much he wanted, the material would not stuck to him.

He kept coming to look for me in tears and then we were faced with problems.

I said to him:

‘You see, René, everything which we people do not yet know, is difficult to learn.

And once we have started, we finish that.

Soon it will go of its own accord.

If you have first just got the hang of the basis.

I will tell you one thing, if you think that you can lie down on the job, I will withdraw myself from everything.

I will then leave you completely alone and you must just see what becomes of it.

Every beginning is hard.

You do not get anything for free, we must do our best for everything in our life.’

He asked me then where I had learned my languages.

I made it clear to him that I had learned the basics of French, German and English at school, for which I had to give all of myself, and that I had learned other languages later, abroad, which you are given for free as it were.

He would do everything in order to make something of it.

And we could not complain.

He has something in him, as a result of which he conquers everything.

I no longer thought during these years of spiritual searching.

I devoted myself to this study along with him.

We experienced the Dutch language together.

Karel, Erica and even Anna, who started to learn Dutch, English, French and German just like he did – got to like it.

We brought up our linguistic behaviour at table, which was also necessary.

We helped each other to get René through it.

And his teacher could be satisfied with this joint help.

Meanwhile he came back from Amsterdam with his first lessons in art.

He appeared to be far from the worst there.

There was absolutely nothing more to be seen of his past.

The boys and girls from his class found him a bit quiet and ponderous, but the goodness, the softness, the camaraderie in him surpassed everything and ensured that people did not see that other part, accepted it as something which must be there.

I knew, it is going well like this!

I, none of us, saw that other, we knew this life!

This being ponderous was to me the deep truth of this life and being and will have to reveal itself one day for us and many people. Something pushed in him, something lived which had a mask on but which would appear to be the deeper core for soul and spirit sooner or later.

Anyone who saw him did not feel this.

However, in his eyes, which were telling, you sometimes saw a tingle, a silhouette of what I expected.

Do all people not have gloominess in them?

Do all of us not feel silence at times?

René was weighed down by it, even in his sleep, fed himself by it, but then they were inward sighs, or there was relaxation for what was still to come.

After a year we could say that it was going well.

We have not known disruptions again.

I was able to enjoy his inner life for a few hours.

One afternoon, it was nice weather, the middle of summer, we lay together in the wood and fell asleep.

We had a long walk behind us, we had walked through the heathers ... had let ourselves be baked brown by the sun, some talk about art and old masters.

Then our eyes closed and we fell asleep.

In this shadowy, natural being, this wood life, I heard him suddenly speaking to me.

I woke up and saw that he was still asleep, but his lips were moving, speaking softly.

I bent over him and listened to what he had to say.

First I did not want to consider it, but then I had to accept that this was not inner dreaming, but that his soul was showing itself to me, I heard him say:

‘I am whispering ... can you hear that?’

I replied, also in a whisper: ‘I can hear you, I am waiting, I have been waiting for so long.’

‘Then I will give you my first word.

Do you know how you can waken me?’

‘I do not yet know that, tell me now, if it is possible.’

‘Listen.

I am awakening.

I am busy awakening.

But you will not see me and be able to experience me under your own power.

Do you feel what you are capable of?’

‘Tell me what it is.’

‘Listen ... when I am twenty-one years old ... and you will experience again that you reach unity with me outside, you will apply your powers.

You will have to wait until I have reached that age.

You will not apply your hypnosis before then!

Can you hear me?’

‘I can hear you.’

‘Then you will now say the words to me ...

What did I say?’

I told him what I had heard.

Then he also said:

‘As we were in Isis, as we experienced Isis, my lives will speak to you.

You will force me to explore the universe.

You will explain the laws through my life.

By means of this we will build on a university.

You have kept all the foundations?’

‘I have done that.’

‘Then it is good.

So, by means of hypnosis!

You will only force me to see from my inner life as a result of your imposed sleep!

By means of sleep, which is not sleep!

You will wait and see.

You will leave me alone.

I will carry out my task, I now feel that I will be able to do it.

And then?

Can you see it?’

‘I cannot see anything.’

‘That is also good!

I can see it!

I can hear it!

I can experience it!

Oh, my Goddess?

We lay our lives down at her feet.

I am sleeping and will soon awaken.’

I thought: you can make do with this.

Nothing more can happen to me, a madman has got talking.

‘No one must know’, there also follows.

‘No one!

No one!

No fuss!

No help!

No annoyance either!

Nothing, nothing will disturb this.’

‘Amen!’ I said.

While thinking I fell asleep and I slept through until he wakened me.

‘Frederik ... we must go home!’

The boy knows nothing about what he had told me there.

Nothing.

I played it out, but could accept that he did not know what he had said to my life there.

Furthermore, there were no phenomena.

Karel and Erica danced with happiness.

I was proved right in everything.

All of our neighbourhood danced with us.

We watch out that no gold lay under our feet, we were not so stupid anymore.

We sooner did good things with it, because we made a passable floor from it.

René was learning!

His Dutch was improving.

The most horrible times were over, arithmetic also followed, but his life flatly refused that.

We did not insist that this was also necessary, did not demand everything from his tender disposition, which had withstood a misery for years which was already too great.

The art was awakening.

In the beginning it was drawing pots and pans, only drawing.

However, gradually the lines received depth.

The marks which he received for his work sent himself to a height.

When the anatomy lessons started, he was the top of the class.

This went like a bomb, his teacher said, and he added that the boy would be suitable for a doctor.

Karel thought about sending him to university, but he had to bow his head again, because René would absolutely not be capable of opening himself to that.

‘No’, was his unrelenting word, ‘never that!

And then, Father, I will be behind.

I will never catch up with that anyway.

A thorough secondary education is necessary for this.

And I do not have that.

But do not worry, Father, I will make it.’

And Karel did not worry, nor Erica.

Everything went well.

I had nothing to do in those years.

I only had to take care of him and myself, I did not have to make notes for the logbook, there were none.

In this way I could give myself to him completely.

After the second year other aspects opened themselves for him and his art.

The best in the class were allowed to take a trip to Italy.

A three week trip.

We thought it was wonderful for René that he was also part of the group.

Three weeks of emptiness in the house.

No worries for three weeks.

I borrowed some horses from Hans and took off.

I had sold Sientje.

When Karel and Erica had troubles, I also joined in with them and gave up my noble animal.

Hans also had beautiful animals, which all of us could enjoy, if we wanted to.

I had also taught René to ride, but he did not allow himself the time for it.

Painting occupied him completely.

We received wonderful letters from our child from Italy.

The girls were already running after him, but he does not take one of them.

He does not like them, he is dreaming, he is still asleep for this.

Erica thinks it is wonderful.

She says: then at least I still have something from my child, we have had to miss so much of his little character, although I wish him every luck.

He does not see any girls, art is everything!

From Italy he comes to our life with many friends.

Erica has a large dinner ready for the boys and girls.

We were also part of it and the boys tell us about their beautiful moment experienced there.

Have you already been in the Sistine Chapel, Frederik?

When I told him all the places I had been in the world, took the girls and boys to places where land no longer grew, through deserts, across seas, boat after boat, entered Temple after Temple, there was no end to the questioning and they understood where René got all those stories and wisdom.

Aha, one called – a darling of a child, thought Erica, the best of all those girls – it is Uncle Frederik!

But Uncle Frederik did not let himself be persuaded.

When the children had gone, we heard from him how it had been for them there.

The wonders in Rome had overwhelmed him.

The Sistine Chapel was a revelation to him, and the Vatican ... which they were able to enter, was just as beautiful as all the others.

Only he wondered why the Holy Father did not travel the world.

He would achieve so much by it.

This thought restrained everything and not a word passed his lips again.

‘You do not know’, Erica says, ‘what goes on in his brain, but I would so love to know.

You will never get to know him in this way.

Well, I have no complaints, I will keep quiet, oh, Lord, let it remain so!’

People in our house thought about every thought which received material space.

I understood Erica.

As a mother she wanted to know her child.

And yet she was grateful to the Almighty.

Then we go to his twenty-first year.

We meanwhile hear that Hans has got Spring in his head.

When he sees the nicely drawn portrait of Erica, he utters:

‘Oh, who drew that, Erica?’

René hates putting his name under his works.

We used to see that differently.

Now there is something which guards against it.

You do not see a name.

You see a few scribbles on his studies, from which you can make out his monogram.

Erica says:

‘Well, Hans, just guess?’

Hans mentions names.

‘No’, Erica says.

‘No and no.’

‘Who then, Erica?’

‘Our René, my dear Hans.’

‘How is it possible!

Really beautiful.

Well caught, beautiful, Frederik, worthy of my congratulations.

I must say, he is making progress.’

‘Just come with me for a moment, dear Hans, he is not here.

I will show you something.’

René’s room is hanging full.

Hans can’t get enough of it.

What does Hans think of those symbols?

Frederik, will you come as well?

I am here.

Can you see that?

Did you see that?

Did you see this as well?

Come with us, Hans, look here, in my room.

What do you think of this temple?

How are these ruins?

Just look at these sketches from Italy.

Look at this?

The human heart, when it is asleep, René says.

This here, an embryo in the mother.

Crazy?

I wanted there to be thousands of those things.

Here, brains?

Just look how these tissues have been drawn.

Karel has taken some of them to the dissecting room.

They are like photographs.

Beautiful?

And we are only beginning.

Yes, we may be satisfied.

Just open the logbook, Hans.

Just go back nineteen years ...

What do I say, Hans?

What strikes me here?

My God ... lad ... how old are you really.

Hans goes out the door.

He runs away.

He is shocked.

Why?

Four days later I go to visit him.

We sit in our seats as of old and drink a glass of wine, of course the good old Dutch cigar is not lacking.

Just say, Hans, why did you run away so fast?

Hans rocks in this chair and behaves very shyly.

Come on, say it, you are not twenty years old anymore.

And then I heard:

‘Yes, how must I tell you, Frederik.

I believe that I am courting again.’

‘What?

What did you say?

You are going out with someone new?

You?’

‘Is that so special then?’

‘Not that, but I am shocked by it.

Imagine that you buy a pig in a poke again, Hans?’

‘That is impossible, Frederik.

It is something very different.’

‘What is it?

Family matters?’

‘Not that either, she is an orphan. But how old would you say I was?’

‘You ... to look at you forty-three.’

‘Thank you ...’

‘And the flower?’

‘What did you think?’

‘Must I know that?’

‘Now, have a guess?’

‘Forty?’

‘Less.’

‘Thirty then, far too much down the way suddenly, but I will chance it.’

‘Younger!

Even younger!’

‘That will be precarious of me and not any less for you.

I ask you, how old are you now?’

‘Forty, Frederik.’

‘You learned that from me, didn’t you, but what do you want, Hans?’

Then he came out with it.

Elsje is a wonder and Elsje is a Lotus flower.

‘What should I do?

What do you advise me to do?

Have a talk about it with Karel and Erica.

I will come to you, that is better.’

Hans is even older than we thought.

There is a difference between them of some twenty-five years.

However, as I already said, that became of it anyway.

I am sitting here now, alone and in thought.

The years of my life flew past, we have nothing to complain about.

And as I see it, Hans is not badly off.

However, René thinks, I believe: that is nice, how nice that is, isn’t it?

What a colour!

I hear him say:

‘Elsje’ – we use the informal form of address and speak differently when we are together; we take the bull by the horns and talk straight, – ‘Elsje’, I hear, ‘may I make a portrait of you?’

Elsje says: ‘Just ask daddy that, dear Father.’

Hans hears these words and comes to have a look.

What do you think, dear Father?

‘But dear, of course.

If René will be so kind!’

It goes well, it goes too well, I believe.

We experience a happiness which goes on for ever and which does not end.

René is in thought, lives in his world.

Now Hans approves, he has already gone far ahead and yonder, there in the distance, I can still see him.

For me a time has come, which makes me tremble and shake.

I am really shaking.

Karel sees it and asks:

‘What is the matter, Frederik?

It is as if you have ague.

Come on, come with me, we will drink a bottle of champagne together.

Then you will kill that fever.

How do you feel, Frederik?

Are you not happy, now that we have come so far?

Just look at my son.

Frederik, cheers ... to everything, to everything, also to my ditches!’

We are sitting here in a corner of the large house, the ballroom in which Hans lives, the harem as such ... having a nice drink together.

We fetch another bottle.

Karel is already talking with a bit tipsy ... not I, I could drink at least ten bottles of this stuff, it makes me quiet.

And I have not changed at all in this either.

The more Karel gets, the nicer his personality becomes.

Now we roll into one of his ditches, then we race upstairs again and get in each other’s hair.

‘What a brute I was to you, Frederik.

What a boeha I was ...

Oh, where did I get this word from now?’

‘Ssssshhhhh ...’ I say, ‘Karel, let sleeping dogs lie.’

‘But where was it then, Frederik?’

Karel talks in dialect when he feels his nose glowing.

That is also wonderful, blood never denies itself!

Then he involves all of the farm and he is just like a child, a naughty boy.

He rolls through the gardens with you, knocks you flying again from behind and makes great things of nothing.

Erica gets a fit of laughter ... ‘Champagne’, she says, ‘teaches you to fly.’

René does not drink.

Elsje does, she has had a few glasses and Anna admitted to me a moment ago that she had had four.

‘But, Frederik, that stuff is also so nice.’

Her eyes twinkle, she looks at me as if we are lying together under the Pyramid, her gaze goes so far, that I cannot even follow her anymore.

She says:

‘Did you see that little dove, Frederik?

Could you not see it?

I know, but I also bled for it.’

She runs away, because she wants to prevent my answer, afraid that I will let her bleed even more than she did already.

But I cannot do any differently.

Yet I was out with her.

We were sailing ... with a boat, on a large lake, and alone.

I told her one thing and another then.

The conclusion of that day was that we did not want to go home again.

I will not go back again, she says, I will stay here now.

I will not leave you again.

You pull a person’s heart from its ribs, now I understand Erica and Karel.

We left the boat for what the boat was.

We let the drills turn but we ourselves lay under the Pyramid and had fallen asleep.

It was all so childish and beautiful, but I received a prod from the Sphinx and almost succumbed.

Then I told her what I had already carried with me for years and she could make do with that.

I promised her, if I go to Egypt again, she will go with me.

Little René too.

Then we fell asleep in the Dutch way, we slept for hours and we dreamt about fish in the water and people on the waterside, about flowers in a garden, about a Christmas celebration with candles, about sandwiches with aniseed comfits which were no longer baked for us, about storks, not with babies with them, but with sticks, as black as soot, from which you make St. Nicholases, and a lot more things.

However, the conclusion of this beautiful little trip was a wonderful dinner outside somewhere with a lovely wine to follow.

Then we had got hold of a day on which we could live on a thousand years.

We waddled homewards like two ducks which had become fat.

We came in quietly, but at the door we were received by other people, who were already just as crazy as we were.

Karel poured another glass, Erica wore a new garment, not from me, because she had not seen that one yet, she only received it yesterday from me.

She barely dares to wear the one which I gave her when René came home, she is so afraid that something will come to her life.

And this is the way it is now!

Erica, Karel, Hans and Anna ... we drink champagne together.

René does not talk, Elsje has gone up stairs for a while and there are no more friends.

Hans has balanced the academics from old times and they are no longer any good.

Yet soon others will come, but they will be Hans’ first helpers.

Sonja comes too, likewise Old Piet and the niece.

Also Mrs Van Soest; our dear Falkenstein cannot make it and is sick.

Hans has sent her flowers and Elsje sent cake and tart.

She must take part, no one is forgotten.

Hans has hit the Tenhoves in the face, because Tippy wanted to try and kick down the doors here herself, but Hans claims he has had enough fees.

I thought it was wonderful, wagtails can get bored.

In this way we sit completely alone and have fun, happiness!

And the best thing of all is that we long for Piet to come.

Hans wanted to keep this day free for all of us.

We now drink to the health of René.

René did not want to wear his eastern garment.

He will do that, he says, when the time for it has come.

What do you say, Karel, about such a sensible human being?

Had you and could you have thought that?

Not I, but you, old Frederik, young person, because you outplay all of us, you cannot be made old, can you?

You knew it!

You always had such a premonition, didn’t you, Frederik?

When are we all going to ... I cannot bear thinking about it! ... to ... what is that man called again?

Home ...?

However, they are Erica’s words, Karel cannot work it out.

He had wanted to say Sultan.

Zulu milk tastes good, Frederik, but just give me this.

What do you think?

Have I become just as happy a man?

You should see my boy, a pity that he is so quiet, but I have already enough bustle in my house.

What times they were, weren’t they, Frederik?

We came home at two o’clock, by full moon, which I am so sensitive to, with Anna next to me, talking and keeping quiet.

We added another hour to it, sitting in the drawing room, we went over everything!

What do you think, Frederik?

Will it stay like that?

But what a dear Elsje is.

As long as Hans never forgets that.

Well, what do you want?

René has gone to sleep.

‘Did you see him, Karel?’

‘Who’, asks Karel, ‘who should I have seen?’

‘René, our René.’

I look at Erica and I do not want to show that I also saw something.

‘What are you talking about?’ I ask.

‘Did you not see René?

He feasted his eyes on Elsje.’

‘Somewhat logical ... who does not do that.

He sees art in this being.

How beautifully she can sing, how beautifully she can play!

It is delightful, she has everything.

Beauty and art, love and happiness.

Hans now understands it.

He is little bit too old, but it is still okay.

She is like a child, a woman and a friendship for Hans.

What else could you want?’

‘I could not want anything, Frederik.

Well, but a human being, a mother can think, can’t they?

And you always think in your own direction, towards your happiness.

To put it honestly, I find Elsje more suited to René than to Hans.

You may not say such things, I will not do it again either.

I felt you a moment ago.

But I have to say it, otherwise I will not sleep tonight.

I will never think of it again, I feel it like a blow in Hans’ face and that must not happen.

But, is that perhaps not true?

I am already silent.

Fortunately, he is already sleeping.

I would not have said a word about it then.

Between ourselves, Frederik, what do you think about it?’

‘You are right, Erica, but ... hands off; does not belong to you.

Elsje is an angel!

How strange things can work out, come to us.

He could be her father.

Hans is very sweet to her.

I must say: we can be satisfied.

What becomes of this will always be good.

Elsje is busy and does not want any help, she wants to do everything alone, but that is not possible.

Hans had looked for two women, reliable friends of his, who will help her.

Do not let us worry about it.’

I lie in bed and get cold shivers again.

René has become twenty-one years old.

I surrender myself.

To fate and to powers which I do not yet know.

We will see what comes.

I hear him sleeping here, but at the same time he is talking to me.

Sleeping, he tells me that I must not allow any ague.

What I expect is here.

What he expects is also there!

Of course, I do not know what that is.

I sink away and have lost everything of this day, I know nothing more, I am asleep.

Yet I wake up again.

I must think.

I get up and take out the diary.

I record:

‘What I have waited for all the years, now stands before me as a lump of healthy life.

I believe that we will begin.

Everyone from the Divine universe can understand that this is a sensation for me.

I had not thought that I was such a simpleton, I could barely cope with it.

And I believe that I have discovered something, that I do not trust anyone in the world with.

I can be happy as a result of it and I see it as a dark cloud coming at me.

I believe that it is this which wakened me a moment ago.’

Now that I have written this down it has gone from me.

I no longer feel any fever.

However, now I feel something different.

What is it?

A severe cramp dominates my hand.

I look at myself.

What I once experienced already has come back with a force.

I myself look at my right hand, which writes:

‘First go on a trip!

Go with René and leave Anna at home.

Sounds harsh, but if you want, if you feel it, if you know it, if you understand it, if you can accept it, you will go alone with René!

Go to Mohammed!

Go to the Sultan.

First take a trip.

So go, Frederik, go, do not think about anything else, go!

Do you not feel delighted?’

I read it over and reach the decision to close the book.

It is champagne talk.

I am already sleeping!

However, I wake up again.

And I take the logbook again and sit down to write.

There also follows:

‘If it was up to me, Erica is right.

Fortunately, Karel knows nothing about it, but these two people belong together ...!’

My hand refuses.

What I have never done before, I do now.

I rip this writing from the logbook and write down again what was already written.

Then I went to sleep.

What will tomorrow bring us.

René is going to school, he is having lessons.

I am here and wait.

The drawings did not deceive me, everything is going well and his drawings already have deep meaning.

The symbolics are wonderful.

There is progress in them, we are moving forwards!

I cannot complain, about anything.

Anna must not come.

I understand that.

However, Anna is not René either.

We will go alone, if Erica and Karel do not mind.

Later all of us will go.

I believe that this is the best thing.

I am tired, dead tired, and yet, how beautiful it was today.

I have forgotten food and drink, this life is foaming enough.

I will have to be more careful.

Now we have made it, but what will this little stream bring us?

We are through the desert.

This trip could be considered as ended, if we did not have to begin again for many other matters.

And we go on a trip again, now ourselves, we are here ourselves!

I cannot do it any longer!

I now sit alone sleeping on stage.

The others have already gone, I am going too.

I also utter:

‘Did you also see this new mask floating before your eyes?’

I already saw it.

There are some who felt this contact with me.

However, I do not want to talk about that.

See you later ... Frederik!

There were so many flowers!