We weren’t rich nor were we poor. We were just another military family posted to Europe in the late 50’s and early 60’s. Paris, to be exact. And, even better, it was during my formative years. It was also a real treat for my mother.
One day, dad brought home a live-in maid whose duties were to clean, do laundry and be a companion for my mother. My mother still did all the cooking. My mother felt very special.
We lived off-base ("on the economy" in the vernacular) in a two story, four bedroom, living room, dining room, eat-in kitchen, two full bath, two water-closet home in the town of LaGarnene-Colombes, just West of Paris. I had both American school chums and French friends. The latter did their evil best to teach me French slang that always got me in trouble in school. When I would use slang in class, my French teacher would blanch; when I used classroom French with my friends, they would laugh and ask if I was running for high office. Somehow, I did get through it all.
Irene was Danish. Her parents were wealthy and had sent her to Paris specifically to get a job with an American family as a housemaid. Their goal was to make sure Irene didn’t grow up a spoiled rich kid with no empathy for common folk or servants. Irene stayed with us for about two years. She was always very friendly, very proper, and very efficient. She spoke Danish, French and English fluently and had a wonderful sense of humor.
Near the end of her "tour of duty" Irene informed my mother that she was engaged to be married and would be leaving. Her parents, she said, were sending her and her fiancée on a trip around the world ahead of their wedding in order to let them find out of they were truly compatible. Apparently money marrying money in Denmark those days was a very serious matter.
Irene and her beau must have been compatible because my parents received a wedding invitation soon after Irene left our employ.
In between Irene’s leaving and receiving her wedding invitation my dad hired Biette ("Bee-et-tah"), also Danish, also from a wealthy family, but decidedly not in sync with her parents goals. Biette had Thursdays off and would, invariably, rise late and somewhat hungover every Friday. She stayed with us for about a year before she abandoned us and her family to marry a local Frenchman.
Following Biette’s departure, my dad brought home a stunning Danish girl who might have easily been a sports magazine swimsuit model. While she was unpacking, my parents had an exchange of ideas that resulted in what’s-the-new-girl’s-name not even staying the night. And, in fact, she was the last housemaid we ever had. My mom took over all the household chores for the remainder of our tour of duty in France.
All-in-all, it was a fantastic coming-of-age time for me, and I will always remember it as the time when I learned that people are people the world over. That we all want the same things: life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And that there are a few that feel they deserve more than an equal share of those things. Hopefully greed won’t replace the notion of common weal.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all.
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