Myrtle Claus
Although it happened quite a few years ago, the event is still vivid in my mind. It was a somewhat drizzly day, somewhere in the middle of March. Just like on any weekday, I walked into the kindergarten with my youngest child to pick up her big brother.
A big brother who acted very secretive when he saw us and with half an eye on the door asked if Dad was coming to pick him up. Uh no, not that day, daddy was making money. Reassured, he ran off to return with a beautifully pasted picture frame.
Italian over-organization?
'Yes, we've all been very busy,' said the teacher, 'We finished the Father's Day present today. And not only that: we also taught the children a nice little verse. Let's just hope they remember it until then.'
She beamed at me. I was a little surprised. What a tight schedule suddenly with the normally quite relaxed school teachers who normally organized the best things at the very last minute.
So I chuckled, silly as I was, and said I hoped so too. After all, June was still a long way off. I noticed from her changing facial expression that I, crazy Dutchman, had said something strange again. How come June? Why third Sunday? La festa del papa celebrate you on March 19!
March 19: Saint Joep, of course!
The 19th of March. It didn't immediately ring a bell on the way home. And only when I thought of the annual Sint Joep market in Sittard, which is always held on that day, did I see the connection. Of course. Saint Joep or Saint Joseph (Joseph), the man who raised Jesus as his son!
No third Sunday in June, Italian Father's Day is always celebrated here on St. Joseph's Day. Very logical actually. If you know. And so we don't forget it anymore. Not just because of this funny incident with that perplexed looking teacher. But also because of a dear friend who takes care of that every year.
Because as with any self-respecting Italian party, Father's Day is a specialty. And to her bowl of Neapolitan donuts, a kind of beignets filled with cream, I'm already looking forward to it!
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