CHICO Christmas Story: A hammock tells

Do you remember our hammock story from last winter? Back then we asked one of our hammocks - and she told us: about her journey from the CHICO company headquarters to the owner Katharina. From the first summer under the apple tree. And all of their experiences together. What have we kept from you so far? One day in the life of this hammock there was a special Christmas moment - one could almost say: One winter a Christmas miracle happened. And it is precisely this Christmas story that we want to tell you today - or rather: We hand over the reins to the hammock again and let it tell the story itself.

Cat Findus and Grandma Josefine

Hello, nice to see you here again - I am happy that I can tell you another story as a hammock. And that is really a special story, believe me! Because it's a Christmas story - the CHICO Christmas story. But let's start at the beginning: In the 1980s, my owner Katharina brought me to Ulrichsberg. You remember? Not only ancient apple trees were waiting for me, under which I was allowed to stretch myself, but also her bright cat Findus. We ate cake together in the afternoon sun, read exciting books or went on trips. It was an exciting time! Sometimes we got a visit from Josefine, Katharina's grandmother. She was a grandmother like in a book. Down to earth. Honest. Bluntly. With the heart in the right place. And with almost always an apron over the blouse - ready to help in the kitchen or in the garden at any time. But she was also a storyteller. However, it took a while for the two of us to get used to each other, because at first she didn't really know what to do with me. A hammock? So what is that? I remember her raised eyebrows and skeptical look. But when Findus the cat sat regularly on my fabric and let me rock him gently, she also dared to sit down. And when she took off her clogs on the grass one day and stayed with me for a full hour while a roast sizzled in the oven, I knew that was the beginning of our friendship. From then on, the three of us – Katharina, Findus and I – often listened to their anecdotes in the garden while the apples ripened above us. She knew a lot about her life on the farm, loved nature, knew every flower and every herb. She was particularly fond of poppies and so she eagerly awaited the first bright red blossoms in the field every year.

As the colors disappeared

Sometimes I wish I could travel back to those carefree days with Josefine. But then came that one spring that didn't feel like spring at all. Because Josefine began to forget. At first it was little things. She forgot to put sugar in the cake, to turn off the radiator, to take the key with her. Then one day she forgot the way home and a short time later Katharina's name. Her health deteriorated rapidly. And suddenly it was time for her to go and say goodbye to us. Autumn had just begun its colorful painting when we strewn white roses on her coffin. Poppies, I thought, if only we´d had poppies, she would have loved them! But this didn't exist in the fall. And otherwise the world suddenly seemed to have lost its colors. In the morning gray wafts of mist were enthroned over the field, night rushed in far too quickly and Katharina wrapped herself in sadness. Not even Findus could make her smile. And she seemed to forget me, too, because I was still dangling out in the garden, when I should have moved into my closet for the winter long ago. When a stormy autumn wind blew, I tried to catch one of the gusts and let myself be shaken wildly to draw their attention to me. But Katharina wasn't looking at me. And when yellow leaves landed on me, I tried to make them glitter in the light to give her a sign. But she overlooked this, too. Luckily, the severe winter was a long time coming - November passed itself off as September and gave us a few more warm days. And even in Advent there was no trace of snow. Nevertheless, it could happen at any moment and my fear of sinking into the snow grew day by day. But Katharina buried herself inside behind books or cried herself to sleep.

The Christmas Miracle

And then suddenly the time had come – on the morning of December 24th. There was an unusual scent of warmth in the air, but I could already smell the first snowflakes. A strange combination. Katharina opened the door and stepped out onto the terrace with a steaming cup of coffee. But suddenly she stopped. And looked at me in surprise. Yes me! Finally, I thought! And all the sadness on her face vanished in one fell swoop.In slow motion she put the cup on the floor, stood up again, looked in my direction again in surprise. Then she started to walk. Barefoot! Catherine, what are you doing? It's winter! But of course she couldn't hear me. A few seconds later she was standing in front of me, leaning down on the grass and electrified. What was there underneath me that fascinated her so much? I swung back a few inches to get a clear view of the grass. And what I saw there made me shudder too: there was a single poppy in full bloom! Intense and full of power. A poppy! Oh Josephine, is it you? For a few minutes we just stared at it, the poppy. Then Katharina's eyes fell on me and she finally said: "Oh dear hammock, I would have totally forgotten you out here!" And then I was finally allowed to go to my winter quarters. And the poppy? Katharina also picked it before the first snow, dried it between the pages of a book and made a bookmark out of it. And whenever she threatens to lose the colors in life again, she lets it slip through her fingers a few times while reading and feels Josefine's strength.