Swiss Army Knives Are Sharp!

A blog post by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011

 “Heidi’s Hostel” located in Interlaken, Switzerland was a charming place… that is, if you were a rattlesnake and leopard-print silk comforter buff, an avid supporter of “going green” (there was one shower for the entire hostel), and a fan of apple-peeling cat-lady hostel owners.  Actually, the hostel would have been mildly pleasant for a cat-lover in general.  But alas, as I was none of these things, “Heidi’s Hostel” was not quite my cup of tea.  Nevertheless, despite the complete strangeness of the whole thing (and perhaps even because of it), fun times were undoubtedly had.

                The owner was really quite nice—upon our arrival she presented the five of us with little Swiss chocolates.  For some reason I felt like the candy-from-strangers warning didn’t apply in this particular situation.  (In any case, the chocolate was fantastic and I’m still alive.)  Our pleasant 12-hour journey left us fairly well-rested as well as extremely famished, so we decided on making dinner ourselves in our local friendly “Heidi’s Hostel” kitchen.  We bought some spaghetti and vegetables from the grocery store and prepared a feast! 

While cooking, we met a lovely girl from Ohio (go figure!) and invited her to join us.  Good thing we did… Not only had she not eaten a Thanksgiving dinner this year, but also, more surprisingly, it appeared as though she had never said a blessing over food before.  “That was beautiful, guys!” she told us when we were finished.  It was amazing to witness the faith so monumentally though something so seemingly small as “grace”.

The next day we brought some food (including Swiss cheese!) for a picnic by the lake that was nearby.  Before we ate, my friends and I fascinated ourselves with the assortment of ducks, seagulls, and swans that had flocked to us.  The swans in particular were vicious!  They were practically big enough for me to ride around on.  We fed them food so we could pet them without them hissing at or biting us, until we realized that we were slowly giving away our entire lunch!  So we stopped the madness and started putting sandwiches together.

Everything was going just peachy.  Things went wrong only when I bestowed upon myself the honor of slicing the cheese.  As we were rugged travelers, I was forced to wield a pocket knife.  Although I thought I was taking great care (I used to be a Girl Scout after all), it turned out that care was very lacking.  At one moment I was slicing cheese with sheer joy… at the next I was staring in confusion at a chunk of skin that had come off of my thumb.  Then the blood came and I realized something.  I had officially cut my thumb.  While cutting Swiss cheese.  With a Swiss Army Knife.  In Switzerland.

But I had no time for the irony as I had enough iron coming out of my hand already.  I started running.  To me, I had just chopped my thumb clear off!  (My mother could testify that I was never one to do well with blood… or injuries, for that matter.)  My friends chased after me and slowed me down.  As we walked along the path in search for help, I was surprised at myself… Although I was nervous about the cut, I was actually quite trusting that God would provide me with someone to help.

We turned off the path and noticed a boy hanging up Christmas lights in his backyard.  Walking up, I held my hand out saying, “Bitte…?”  My pathetic cry for help was answered quite swiftly.  The boy’s mother came out and brought me right into her house.  Within seconds she had water running over my hand and multiple bandages at the ready.  She cleaned me up and covered my thumb so fast that when she asked me “Are you okay?” I could hardly comprehend what was happening.  I nodded my head, saying “Danke” multiple times.  She smiled, telling me everything was okay and that she actually spoke French.

I’m not sure if there was a lesson God wanted me to learn from filleting my thumb.  But I do know this: anyone could have slapped a couple of Band-Aids on my thumb.  Perhaps some people would have even chuckled at my overreaction.  But not these.  These people showed me love.  How great is it to find God’s wonderful children all over the world?!  I thanked them and, as I was leaving, thanked God for them.  Angels?  Maybe.  Ordinary people?  Definitely not.