A New Way of Looking at Spring

Ahhh, spring! It's the loveliest time of the year! Who knows this better than the Dutch?

The Aalsmeer Flower Auction - the largest in the world

We'd heard a lot about this flower auction in North Holland, so the following morning, Dan and I decide to go there and see it for ourselves. We enter the building, and walk onto an upper landing. Over the railing, to the floor below, lots of activity is taking place. Plants and blooms of every kind are being packaged to be shipped this morning by truck or plane to countries around the world.

Bidding Business

As we keep walking, we come to the auction rooms where the buyers from Holland and nearby countries gather to make their bids and purchases. These buyers consist of shop owners, street vendors, wholesale marketers, and exporters. If you plan to participate, you have to be an early riser, since the auctioning begins at 6:45 AM. The bidding continues through the morning until the last of the flowers have made their way past the careful eyes of the buyers. 

We gaze around the room and find things in full swing. At the front of these five rooms, huge clocks hang on the walls. Each clock is designated for a particular produce. The clocks indicate the cost of an item, the minimum and maximum amounts allowed to be purchased, and other specifications.

Flowers Galore

Carts of baby's breath, tulips, roses, etc., are constantly moving into, through, and out of the auction rooms by way of rails. And as carts of flowers pass through, the bidders make their choices. When a buyer sees something he wants to purchase, he presses the button at his desk, and his number lights up on the clock. The large indicator begins to move to the left, showing the price is lowering.    


Tense Timing
Tension rises among the bidders. Others also have their eye on those velvety-red tulips, but their aim is to buy them at the lowest possible price. The competition increases among the merchants. When the dial reaches the amount they're willing to pay, they press the button at their seat to stop the dial. Whoever's the first to press their button, that person's buying number lights up on the clock, and. . . He's the winner! And the four boxes of the prized tulips are his! 

Now he, in turn, can make a profit by selling them to others, such as: to the young man to give to his sweetheart, to a woman to give to her hostess, or to an older child to give to his mother. 


Flowers make beautiful gifts, and delight the recipients. Blooms of every color--that's what Holland is all about. Dan and I come away from the auction having experienced a whole new aspect of spring and of flowers.

The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them.; and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose.

It shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice even with joy and singing: . . . they shall see the glory of the Lord, and the excellency of our God. Isaiah 35:1,2

The Nieuw Minerva - Part 2 - The Outcome

Are We Heading to Germany?

As I begin to lose all hope of ever seeing Lady Minerva, New or Old, or Dan, too, a scary thought comes to mind. Would she be taking me across the border--to Germany, to a hotel by the same name? Impossible. We were on the western side of the Netherlands. Germany borders the east side. 

Suddenly, my companion points to a building straight ahead. At last! But here I am at the hotel, and Dan is some three miles away at the train station. And I haven't even the faintest idea how to find my way back to him. I thank her kindly, and we part. By this time, I'm so exhausted, I'm on the verge of tears. But I pull myself together and enter the hotel. I tell my plight to the young receptionist: "My husband and I want to spend the night here, but I'll have to find him first, and I've no idea where to begin."

No Rest for the Weary

Fortunately, Dan had parked at a landmark, the train station. The receptionist gives me a small map of the city, and highlights the route from the hotel, all the way back to the train station. This route in no way resembles the round-about way, through a back alley, etc., that Lady Beatrix took me on. I'm completely turned around. I thank the young girl and leave the hotel, praying I'll find my way back to Dan. But will he still be there? Perhaps he'd found out how to get to the hotel and he's on his way over. And I'd be roaming the streets of Leiden at midnight, searching for him. But thanks to the map, two hours later, I arrive back at our car. But it's empty! Where's Dan? Surely he'll be back soon. At least while I'm waiting for him, I can collapse on the comfortable car seat. But the car's locked! Shortly, Dan returns and, following the map, we head for our goal. Although we have to deal with one-way streets, canals, and narrow roads where cars are prohibited, with my great navigator, Dan, and our greatest Navigator, God, "Mission Impossible" becomes "Mission Accomplished."

A Bed at Last!

The Nieuw Minerva isn't new, but an older, pleasant hotel. We park alongside the canal that flows beside it. How good it feels to walk inside with Dan by my side. The receptionist greets us and says, "For all the trouble you've had to go through, I'll give you one of the larger rooms." We thank her for all her help and, with key in hand, we head up the stairs to a very nice, clean room. Dan and I sleep peacefully on our first night in Holland, in the lovely land of canals.

In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.

Psalm 4:8

The Nieuw Minerva

The Canal Conspiracy

Our first day in the Netherlands comes to a close. Reluctantly, we leave the windmill and tulips and head for Leiden. Jet lag kicks in, and our energy wanes. All we want is a bed to collapse on. Our Holland guide book lists a hotel named the "Nieuw Minerva." Aah, interesting name, and the price is right. Using a pay phone, we dial the number with no success. I ask a young girl, nearby, if she knows the way to the Nieuw Minerva Hotel. She does--she used to work there in the dining room. She gives us directions, and Dan and I set off by car to find it. We see the road we want, but a canal blocks it. As we retrace the route several times, canals appear before us, with seemingly no way over or around them, and we end up back where we started from. Is this some kind of conspiracy? Too bad we didn't think to bring a boat with us. We could have reached the hotel in no time.

The Missing Hotel .

Then a young couple tells us where they think the hotel's located. Dan and I follow their directions. Sure enough, there stands a huge sign with the name: Nieuw Minerva Hotel. However, the hotel is missing!

But if the sign is here, the hotel can't be too far away. Dan finds a parking place nearby, at a train station. As we sit there, wondering what to do next, an elderly lady comes along, walking spryly, with her cane. If anyone would know how to get to the Nieuw Minerva, this woman should. She's probably lived here all her life. I get out of the car, greet her, and ask if she can tell us how to reach the hotel.

"Ya, Ya, de Nieuw Minerva," she replies. She motions for me to follow her.

Burning Shoe Leather

I'm thinking, "Hot dog, it must be right around the corner!" She's German, so between her German, my English, and a smattering of Dutch between us, we carry on a baffling and amusing conversation as we walk. . . and walk. . . and walk. We talk about our kinderen (children) and the mooi weer (beautiful weather). She tells me her name is Beatrix, the same as the Queen of the Netherlands. But as the blocks keep disappearing behind us, I begin to wonder if she's forgotten all about the Nieuw Minerva. "Are we close to the hotel?" I ask her.

"Ya, de Nieuw Minerva." She nods reassuringly with a smile.

Destined to Sleep in the Car?

But we keep on walking down more roads, past more buildings, cutting across a street here and zigzagging there. Then we pass through a deserted alley. Still, no hotel in sight. I start to get concerned. Dan must think I've been kidnapped, or at best, so hopelessly lost that I'll never find my way back to him. Maybe Dan and I are destined to sleep in our car tonight, if I can ever find it again.

Next week: The Outcome

I will instruct you and teach you in the way which you should go; I will counsel you with My eye upon you. Psalm 32:8

My Dream, A Reality

Arriving in the Netherlands

May 14, 1989 finally arrives. When my husband and I reach the Charlotte Airport, gray clouds fill the sky, but sunshine fills my heart. We change planes in New york and again in London. As we fly toward the Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam, farmland, like patchwork squares, greet us. This is the Netherlands! We're flying over Dutch soil. My dream has become a reality!

Our First Windmill

The Schiphol Airport is the world's only underwater airfield, thirteen feet below sea level. After landing, we claim our rental car and set off to see the sights. We spot our first windmill in Rijnsaterwoude, a village in North Holland, just fifteen minutes from the airport—a stately windmill, but, sadly, no longer working. I know it would wave its wings to us, if it could. The windmill had belonged to the deceased grandmother of a woman we visited.

Holland, the Flower Garden of Europe

The homes here and across the Netherlands have very large windows with opened lace curtains. Plants and potted flowers fill the windows. Flowers are very important to the Dutch. In fact, Holland is called the flower garden of Europe. In spring, you'll see the countryside covered with rows of tulips in myriads of colors. Hyacinths, daffodils, and other flowers also grace the fields. Most of these will be harvested, and their bulbs shipped around the world. Many flowers will be auctioned off at the famous Aalsmeer Flower Auction, located near Amsterdam.

Keukenhof Gardens, the Pride of Holland

There's nothing more beautiful than the Keukenhof Gardens in South Holland. Eight million bulbs blossom here in the 60 acre garden. Vibrant tulips of all colors dance in the breeze on the velvet, green lawn. They circle the base of the trees like wreaths and border the placid lakes and ponds. Graceful swans float on the water, a proud peacock flaunts his fan of emerald feathers, and a carillon with twelve bells fills the air with music, adding magic to this dream world.

Keukenhof means Kitchen Garden. In Medieval times, a countess owned these grounds and often searched the fields for herbs and vegetables with her kitchen servants. Thus the place took the name of kitchen garden or in Dutch, Keuken-hof.

An impressive stage windmill on the grounds beckons us. Dan and I enter—our first time ever to set foot inside a Dutch windmill! We climb a flight of stairs, and step out onto the stage. The windmill's blades are massive, as are the gears and all the mechanisms inside. As we walk around the stage, circling the entire structure, I treasure these moments, hardly believing this is reality, wishing I could stay longer. 

I still marvel how God made my dream a reality.

Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he shall bring it to pass. Psalm 37:4 & 5

Visit The Place You Want To Write About

Pieter Spier, a Dutch American, is a well known author of children's books. He made a wise suggestion to me in a letter, stating: "If you're going to write about a certain country or locality, you need to visit that place and see it for yourself. Nothing can substitute for that."

I thought, "Hmmm, sounds like good advice, but how would I have the opportunity to go to the Netherlands?" So I prayed about it. I knew if the Lord wanted me to go, He'd make a way.

Then in January of 1989, as I sat at my desk, it suddenly seemed so real to me that I'd be going to Holland. I could actually see myself there and knew beyond a doubt that soon I'd be walking on Dutch soil. This was really exciting, but the thrilling part happened shortly after. An announcement came over the radio, stating: "For a short period of time, Pan American Airline is offering a promotional. Plane tickets to Europe are selling for $298.00 round trip." Wow, what an answer to prayer!

My husband Dan was at Northland College, in Wisconsin, assisting with the filming for Unusual Films. I didn't dare wait until he came home, several days to a week later. Instead, I called him long-distance, told him of the offer on WMUU, and asked him if it'd be okay if I made our reservations immediately. He agreed, and I was ecstatic.

I wasted no time in getting our tickets. From that point on, I was walking on cloud nine, and when May 14, 1989 arrived, Dan and I set off to visit the Netherlands.

This was the trip of my life and my dream come true. I took my camera, of course, and Dan took two, one slung over his left shoulder and the other over his right. One had 35 mm color negatives for prints, while the other had 35 mm film for slides. If you haven't already guessed, yes, my husband is a professional photographer. What better way to travel, than to have your own personal cameraman with you? Needless to say, we got hundreds of awesome shots. And those pictures are a living testimony of what we saw and experienced in the Netherlands. What a great source to fall back on when you need to describe your character's costume, the interior of her home, or her quaint village.

So, take a tip from Peter Spier and visit that place you want to write about.

Call unto Me, and I will answer you, and I will show you great and mighty things, which you do not know.    Jeremiah 33:3

What Can Spark An Inspiration?

You'd be surprised. The answer is: "anything." The most mundane object in your home or a person you see in a crowd can trigger an inspiration.

How about that shifty-eyed guy you saw, lurking around at the mall? He might be the perfect character for that mystery that's been playing in your mind.

A song of dancing tulips, I'd learned as a child, blossomed into my first published children's story, Tulips of Love. A Christmas ornament of an angel child, seated on a guitar, sparked an idea for another story.

Royal Delftware Shop

And a scene in my third published story came from a calendar, showing a row of Dutch buildings crowned with elaborate gables. In my mind, I envisioned a young girl running down that street, searching for a china shop. She'd broken her mother's favorite porcelain dish and had to replace it before her mother discovered it missing.

When paging through my Indian scrapbook, I knew, as soon as I saw her, the little Indian girl painting pottery belonged in another story of mine.

A picture file is very useful for finding your characters. When I began writing my novel, I'd pictured both my hero and heroine with dark hair. However, my sister suggested, since my story was set in the Netherlands, at least one of the main characters should be blond. Good point. But I felt at a loss. I already knew Anneke as a brunette. I had to get to know her all over again, which was hard. So I went to my picture file and, voila! There she was, with her long, blond hair and beautiful smile. I knew her at once, and now I can't even imagine Anneke having dark hair.

After finding Anneke's true identity, I searched my files and found the perfect picture of each of my characters. The collage now hangs on the wall above my computer desk so, as I write, I can see these characters. They're so real to me, I know them personally. And that makes writing all the more fun.

So, look around you and find that person, picture, or object that intrigues you. It just may be the inspiration for your first book.


But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given to him.   James 1:5

Inspired by Wooden Shoes

My passion is the Netherlands. I was born in Michigan, the state with the highest Dutch population in the United States. But several objects in my childhood home are what inspired my love for Holland. In fact, a pair of miniature wooden shoes that belonged to my mother found their way into my novel.

I began writing and telling stories as a child, and wrote poems to my mother, enclosing them in May Day baskets and Mother's Day gifts. When I was a teenager, the neighborhood kids would gather in our backyard at the gym set, and ask me to tell them a story. Sadly, I don't remember any of those tales. Later, I made up stories for my children on our long trips out west.

In fifth grade, my interest turned to romance. When I read about the building of the railroad across the nation, the caption, "The two met in Utah," brought no image of eastern and western teams meeting to connect their rails. Instead, I envisioned a young couple's rendezvous. But this scenario never developed into a story.

I can even claim a Dutch relative, though I never knew him. My mother's great or great, great grandfather came to America by ship in his wooden shoes. I would have loved to have known him and to hear him tell of his life in the Netherlands.

If you are Dutch, or have visited the Netherlands, or are interested in or intrigued by this country, I would love to hear from you and have you share your knowledge and experiences with me. And even if you're not Dutch and you have no Dutch-related adventures to write about, I'd still love to hear from you.

                  A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.  Proverbs 25:11