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24 D Chapter Five d my ArrivAl The rat that Anna probably smelled even before my mother was not at all to her liking. A howling brat in the house? Diapers she would have to wash? On the other hand, there was the poor Herr Baron, who had lost all his brothers. So, she decided not to quit, but to wait, just like my anxious and excited parents. Finally, there came the night in April when Anna, standing at the foot of the bed, received the baby from the hands of the hurriedly called physician: a girl. A girl? But everyone had expected a boy! After overcoming the initial shock, my father’s face allegedly lit up when he realized that, after all, a daughter could neither be drafted nor shot. But how in the world would he be able to break this disastrous news to his mother? She, like everyone else, had expected a grandson as heir to the name. Of course, her daughter-in-law was to be blamed; she who had entered this marriage not as a virgin, but an apple someone else had nibbled. A virgin would have regarded it as her duty to give birth to a boy, not an outlandish demand after the loss of her own three sons. And so, the one true virgin in the house blessed with a child of her own was, without any doubt, a Vendish maiden from the Spreewald, a fact that not even my mother would seriously contest. From the day of my birth, Anna divided visitors into two categories. The first category belonged those few who would, at the mere sight of me, break into exuberant praise about the uniquely exquisite beauty of this bald and spindly creature with huge eyes. The other category, without doubt the vast majority, consisted of my grandmother and all the elderly spinster aunts who did not even make a remote effort to hide their disgust about the new baroness’ appearance: skinny arms, big bat-like ears sticking out offensively , and the total absence of hair. The question arose, in case I grew up at all, would there ever be a faint resemblance to a halfway normal human being? Poor, unfortunate parents, they certainly deserved better! Since the arrival of a girl was not anticipated, no name had been discussed. After a polite but strict reminder by the local authorities (because German law required birth registration to include a name), there were long debates, and finally, my parents managed to come to a satisfactory agreement. I received three names: Sybilla, after the young princess of Coburg and Gotha,the future crown princess of Sweden; Augusta, in honor of my beautiful mother; and Sophia, for my godmother Sophie-Charlotte von Sell, my father’s only living spinster cousin. They even Closed The Candy sTore 25 Around the turn of the century, Sophie-Charlotte had concluded that she would simply not accept the usual fate of a Prussian colonel’s unmarried daughter—to become a governess , a librarian, a sister in a Protestant nursing order, or a teacher in a private school for girls of noble descent. She went to Sweden, the country where women even then enjoyed privileges about which their German counterparts could only dream. Mastering the Swedish language,she earned her living as a journalist and writer,publishing several novels in her home country,Germany.One novel in particular had tongues wagging,making the rounds within the immediate family, in the ardent hope of detecting a resemblance between some of the fictional characters and actual family members.But the author,to everyone’s dismay, had not considered any of them worth writing about; that was really scandalous! Sophie-Charlotte, thrilled to be chosen as my godmother, traveled all the way from Sweden to Potsdam to hold me over the baptismal font. Altogether, six godparents had been selected for me.Considering the fact that not a single one was under sixty years of age, their chances of still being alive for my confirmation were extremely slim. To me, it would not make much of a difference because, as far as gifts were concerned, they had decided in unison that they were wasted on a mere girl.The unanimous verdict was to wait until a boy was born.No wonder that,six years later,I picked my own godfather,one who would richly recompense me for their stinginess. Just when everybody began to breathe a little easier,the worst post-war hardships...

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