My grandmother — we call her “Ahne” — passed away last week. And my daughters wanted to see our beloved grandmother one last time. So I went with them to see her together with my mother (the daughter of my grandmother) at the churchyard.

Ahne was still layed out in the coffin so that we could see her one last time. Alina had plaited a cross and she put it on Ahne’s bed. Ann-Sophie had drawn a picture which is also put beside Ahne.

When we went out of the cemetery chapel Ann-Sophie noted that Ahne had such a nice white dress. And Alina asked: “Why is she buried and not brought to the crematorium instead?”. My mother was surprised about this question and said something like “It’s like with grains. You put them into the soil.”

Alina thought about what my mother said and started to tell us about a dramatics that she just performed at school theatre. The play was about “Seven grains”. Alina had the role to play the seventh grain.

Each of the seven grains where thinking about what they wanted to do in their life. So the first wanted to experience the nature of our world. The second wanted to be useful. The third wanted to be the same. The forth was afraid of being put into sack full of grains. The fifth wanted to learn about the secrets of life. The sixth wanted to enjoy life. The seventh did not know quite yet.

So what happend with each of them? The first jumped from a tractor and hopped into the woods and saw the nature. The second was taken by a baker and was turned into bread. The third experienced the same. The forth was put in a sack of grains and then a country woman used it to feed the hen’s. The fifth was used for a special type of cookie. The sixth fell beside a flower and made friend with a ladybird.

The seventh was taken by a farmer and put into the soil. It was dark and tight and the seventh grain was a afraid … and then it died. However after some months a new spike grew. And the new spike grew another seven grains.

When Alina finished the story my mother and her two sisters (my aunts) got very quite. They were touched and so was I … And we slowly understood what iit meant what Alina was telling us !!!

All dwelling in one house are strange sisters three,
as unlike as any three sisters could be,
yet try as you may to tell sister from sister,
you’ll find that the trio resemble each other.
The first isn’t there, though she’ll come beyond doubt.
The second’s departed, so she’s not about.
The third and the smallest is right on the spot,
And manage without her the others could not.
Yet the third factor with which to be reckoned
Because the first sister turns into the second.
You cannot stand back and observe number three,
For one of the others is all you will see.
So tell me, my child, are the three of them one?
Or are there but two? Or could there be none?
Just name them, and you will at once realize
That each rules a kingdom of infinite size.
They rule it together and are it as well.
In that, they’re alike, so where do they dwell?

“Wiltina” is one of Alina’s books. She wrote this half a year ago when she just got 7 years old. When I first read this book I was crying and rolling on the floor laughing and I was proud of Alina. It’s the story of a lady horse named Wiltina on a world trip. It’s the story of Wiltina experiencing the different countries in our world. And it’s a touching love story as well. An English version is yet to come .

View the German version of “Wiltina Das Pferd auf Weltreise” … and enjoy.