I live in a neighbourhood that consists of three islands. Like every year, this is the time of a town festival.
Yesterday I went to the Town Hall to listen to a band my mother is a member of. They play folk music with old instruments, and they usually play at various Medieval Markets. Well, after that an interesting story was told. In 1955, a young couple was getting married. The bride was so sweet, that she wanted to have a wedding for the children too! Without adults. Since that, every now and then someone of the children bumps into her and tells how much they enjoyed the wedding. The girls danced with the groom, and the boys with the bride.
Luckily, the sweet lady, a little abashed, was there herself, and I got a chance to talk to her. She told me that she had written about the wedding to her German penpal, and then I heard my granny's name. She had translated the letters!!! I told her that the translator is my grandmother. She was very delighted, and told that they had lived in the same house for a little while (other families lived in my great-grandparents' house, too, for it was so big), and asked me to say greetings from her to my granny.
Here's a picture.
Then I went to this market place to look around. Suddenly I see my father's uncle! Or my other granny's brother, or my great-uncle. There are many ways to express that. He has an apiary, so he was selling honey there. We chatted a while and he gave me a honey pot.
Here's also a photo from year 1932. My great-grandparents, some of their relatives, the translator granny as a baby on her mother's arms, and my two-year-old great-uncle :--D (not the honeyman, though).