Anne-Cath Vestly (1920 – 2008) was a much loved Norwegian author of children’s books, who challenged many of the prejudices of her time by writing about non-stereotypical families where the mother worked and the father was home, children who lived in high-rises rather than in saccarine little houses, etc.
In 1953 she was reading a story on the radio program “Barnetimen” (The Children’s Hour) about the little boy Ole Aleksander whose mother was going to have a baby. Telling children how babies came to be was considered shocking at the time, so this created an uproar, even death threats. As she said, it seemed to be the grown-ups that were bothered – the children wrote her letters telling her not to feel sad.
She also did radio programs for grown-ups, so her response was to write a short story about a little boy who is going to have a sibling, and how he found out about it. And just the other day, I met a little American boy who was very confused about how someone could have a baby without being married (apparently, he thought it was the marriage ceremony that produced the offspring), so I decided that a translation into English of Anne-Cath’s story was in order. Totally unauthorised, of course, errors are all mine, but very much in her spirit. (And you can find some of her books in English – at astonishing prices – at Amazon.)
A Children’s Hour for Grown-Ups
Anne-Cath Vestly, 1953
Once there was a small boy named Anton. He lived in a small house in a small town with his father and mother. One day, just before dinner, his mother was knitting a small jumpsuit. Perhaps you know what that is?
Anton was sitting and looking at the knitting – for a long time. Then he said:
— That is way too small for me, Mum.
— So you think it is for you?, said Mum, and her face looked a bit peculiar.
— Isn’t it?, said Anton.
— No, this for a little baby, said Mum. Would you like it if we had a little baby?
— Oh yes, could we? said Anton. But, Mum — how can we get a baby?
Mum was quiet for a little bit, and then she started to knit very fast. Then she said: Those babies … we buy them in the country.
— In the country they sure have many things, said Anton. I wish we lived in the country, because then we could go and look at those babies every day.
— Yes, said Mum.
— But Mum, when we were in the country this summer, do you remember that lady in the red house? She went to the city, and when she came back she had a baby?
— Oh yes, said Mum, those who live in the country go to the city to buy their babies!
— Oh, said Anton. So I was bought in the country?
— Yes, said Mum.
— Was I expensive??? asked Anton.
— Oh, not too bad, said Mum.
— When are we going to go and buy that baby? asked Anton, and now he was really excited.
— Not too long now, said Mum, but, you see, you cannot come with us.
— Why not? said Anton. I bet I could pick the best baby for you!
— Now, you should not ask so many questions, said Mum. You were really cute when you were smaller. You didn’t ask so many questions then…
— Couldn’t I talk then? asked Anton.
Right then, they heard Dad coming home, and Mum ran out to the hallway and whispered to him: Now I have finally told him about the baby!
— Great! said Dad, coming in. Hello, my boy! I guess you are really excited about whether it will be a girl or a boy the stork will bring?
— The stork? said Anton.
— Yes, don’t you know that it is the stork that brings the small babies? It flies all the way from the Nile with the little baby in its blanket, and then it flies over all the houses and drops the little baby right down to us.
— Well, um, said Mum, I just told Anton that we buy the small babies out in the country.
— Oh, said Dad. Well, I, at least, came with the stork. I remember it distinctly.
— Come and have dinner, said Mum.
After dinner, Mum and Dad wanted to rest for a while, and Dad said: Con you sit in the living room and mind the house for a while, Anton?
— Yes, said Anton.
In a little while, there was a knock on the door. Anton opened, and there was old Aunt Agnete.
— Is you mother home? she asked.
— Yes, she is home, but she is so very tired, so she is resting.
— Is she now, said Aunt Agnete. Can’t be too long now, she murmured to herself.
On the table was Mum’s knitting. Anton looked at it and said: Aunt Agnete, you know what? We are going to buy a baby!
— So you know? said Aunt Agnete. Her face turned very peculiar for a while, then she cleared her throat and made her voice almost normal and said: But you are not going to buy one, little friend. Don’t you know that the little babies lie in a large pond, up in heaven above the skies. There they swim around all the time until they find that they want to come down to us, and then they glide down one quiet night and snuggle into their bed under the duvet. And when you wake up next morning, there is a baby there!
— Where you born that way? said Anton.
— Yes, said Aunt Agnete.
— Can you swim? said Anton.
— No, I can’t, said Aunt Agnete. She taught it was a bit odd that Anton was not more interested in the babies she talked about, but she was mistaken.
— Have you forgotten how, then? said Anton. You knew how to swim when you were crawling around that pond…
— How you talk, said Aunt Agnete. Imagine, crawling…
— Maybe you were just swimming the breaststroke, said Anton.
— What a naughty boy you have become, said Aunt Agnete. Why don’t you go out and play for a while, I’ll mind the house in the meantime.
Anton went out, where he met old Martin who used to sweep the streets in the little town.
— Martin, said Anton. How were you born?
— I, said Martin, came sailing down the river on a board.
That night Anton lay awake thinking for a long time before he fell asleep. When he woke up the next morning, Mum had indeed gone, and Anton went out to play with a little boy named Lars.
— Mum has gone to the country to buy a baby, he said proudly.
— That’s not how it works, said Lars. Don’t you know that little babies are inside their mother’s tummy, and when they come out they are all finished with eyes and a nose and everything. Isn’t that great?
— Yes, said Anton. That is really great.
Then he sighed and said to himself: If only it had been that simple…