Goodbye, Holland
You have lived for many years in Holland. Now it is home. Your friends are all in Italy, but you visit them now and barely understand. They visit you and discover you don't speak Dutch. But this is your land. You have discovered the wonder in a Rembrandt, the peaceful joy in of gawking at the tulips that bloom each spring, the tragedy of Anne Frank, and even the partying and joy in Amsterdam. A contented smile lights your face as you take in the windmill silhouetted by the sunset.
Then, one morning, a notice is stamped on your door. You are being departed from Holland. "What?!," You cry, "No. Holland is all I know now. You can't make me leave!" But it is all out of your hands. In a month, Holland will be gone. You wander the streets of your beloved country, trying to desperately breathe in everything and etch it on your heart. Tears fill your eyes as you tenderly stroke the petal of a tulip, knowing you'll never feel it again. You struggle to accept your parting as you look on the majesty of the Hauge, trying to let it and all of Holland sink into your eyes and flow into your very soul.
When the day comes, it seems unexpected, though you knew it was coming. You weep bitterly as you recall the times you prayed to leave Holland. As it fades from sight, you keep your eyes on it as long as you can, and when it drops from sight, the tears all uncontrollably, knowing you can never go back.
Friends try and understand your hurt back home. But they never know anything but the facts about Holland, not its heart, or its spirit. You hear them talk about Italy. They visit it often. When you speak of Holland, they get hushed, and you know they whisper of your expulsion in private. They try to distract you from talking about Holland, all they seem to remember is the leaving, not the living.
But you remember Holland in full. Pictures and wrods about Holland bring both smiles and tears. You offer your hand to anyone who has discovered they are moving there, you know all the inside tips. You keep Holland with you always, even as you walk the streets of a new country. You may not be in Holland, but Holland is in you.
-Allie Stentsland
You have lived for many years in Holland. Now it is home. Your friends are all in Italy, but you visit them now and barely understand. They visit you and discover you don't speak Dutch. But this is your land. You have discovered the wonder in a Rembrandt, the peaceful joy in of gawking at the tulips that bloom each spring, the tragedy of Anne Frank, and even the partying and joy in Amsterdam. A contented smile lights your face as you take in the windmill silhouetted by the sunset.
Then, one morning, a notice is stamped on your door. You are being departed from Holland. "What?!," You cry, "No. Holland is all I know now. You can't make me leave!" But it is all out of your hands. In a month, Holland will be gone. You wander the streets of your beloved country, trying to desperately breathe in everything and etch it on your heart. Tears fill your eyes as you tenderly stroke the petal of a tulip, knowing you'll never feel it again. You struggle to accept your parting as you look on the majesty of the Hauge, trying to let it and all of Holland sink into your eyes and flow into your very soul.
When the day comes, it seems unexpected, though you knew it was coming. You weep bitterly as you recall the times you prayed to leave Holland. As it fades from sight, you keep your eyes on it as long as you can, and when it drops from sight, the tears all uncontrollably, knowing you can never go back.
Friends try and understand your hurt back home. But they never know anything but the facts about Holland, not its heart, or its spirit. You hear them talk about Italy. They visit it often. When you speak of Holland, they get hushed, and you know they whisper of your expulsion in private. They try to distract you from talking about Holland, all they seem to remember is the leaving, not the living.
But you remember Holland in full. Pictures and wrods about Holland bring both smiles and tears. You offer your hand to anyone who has discovered they are moving there, you know all the inside tips. You keep Holland with you always, even as you walk the streets of a new country. You may not be in Holland, but Holland is in you.
-Allie Stentsland