LEND ME YOUR EAR: CHRISTMAS A QUARTER-CENTURY AGO REMEMBERED IN A LETTER

When I was 15, I fell in love with my high school history teacher, Miss Naomi Pott, and we spoke of going to Europe together some day. Miss Naomi died before we could make it, and by then, circumstances indicated I would never get there either.

Years later, my all-but-forgotten dream materialized and another teacher who had remained my friend decided she hadn't taught me enough and joined me. Our trip by freighter and extended stay became the greatest adventure of my life. Unexpected turns continued to haunt Helen Anderson for most of hers. My 1970 Christmas letter to family and friends is my anniversary present to myself and indulgent readers:

On April 10, my long-time friend Helen Settle Anderson and I boarded a Greek freighter at New Orleans, arriving at the Port of Athens on May 5. After climbing all over the Acropolis and viewing with awe the hill from which St. Paul addressed the Athenians, we headed for sunny Italy. Rome and Florence gave us some lasting memories though we didn't succeed in getting pinched, and a little old lady who wanted to sell me a souvenir pronounced me beautiful among the Ruins of Pompeii.

May 22 found us at the Passion Play at Oberammergau, one of the most treasured experiences of our travels. We reached Vienna the day the Beethoven 200th Anniversary Festival began, saw Paris gloriously arrayed for a visit by the King of Rumania, arrived in London at the height of the Dickens Centenary, and made it to Edinburgh for the opening of the Commonwealth Games. If this sounds too glowing for words, just try to get a hotel room or a seat on a train during any festival season in Europe!

Near Koblenz we saw the Lorelei Rock, but failed to hear the Maiden sing or to get a glimpse of her golden hair. At Montreux we toured Chillon Castle and touched the post to which Byron's immortal Prisoner was chained. Denmark introduced us to the home of Hans Christian Andersen, the Little Mermaid, and Kronborg Castle at Elsinore, renowned as the setting for Shakespeare's "Hamlet." We found three Lorbergs in Copenhagen's telephone directory. We didn't look for any Andersons because we knew in Denmark they would be spelled wrong anyway.

Soon after Elsinore, we were walking the very streets trod by the Bard during his early years, at Stratford-on-Avon. Most surprising highlight of our London stay was seeing Queen Elizabeth II at very close range twice within an hour. Queens are only human too, we grant, but seeing a queen is still a thrilling event. Not far from London, we walked in Stoke Poges churchyard where Thomas Gray composed his famous "Elegy." And we had tea at Banbury Cross. We didn't see the White Lady on her White Horse, but perhaps she knew we were coming and galloped home to bake the tarts.

Scotland gave us the Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomand, the homes of Sir Walter Scott, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Bobby Burns -- and too many correctly-spelled Andersons for us to try to contact any. And of course the Loch Ness Monster. We saw Nessie's humps rise up out of the Loch a time or two, but her head eluded us. In the Highlands we picked a peck of pilfered heather. Immigration required us to release it before we touched American soil, but ask Helen how she came by the single purple blossom now gracing her European flowers locket.

We sailed home from Genoa in late August, replete with ancient history, modern culture, and travel tips garnered too late. We plan to see the rest of the world by Viewmaster, with our shoes off and our feet propped up on a Turkish ottoman. But our 1970 fling remains a precious memory to us, and I hope all of you will be privileged to visit the Old World before the major sites crumble beyond recognition.

In the meantime, may the coming holidays fill your hearts with hope and joy, and may the new year bless you in every way.

Note to recent travelers to Europe: I realize much of the Old World has changed since 1970, but my Christmas message remains the same. God's blessing on all.

~Aileen Lorberg is a language columnist for the Southeast Missourian.