On April 1st 1752, Olaf (Pilor) Toyou became the first born son of a Hungarian fisherman. When Olaf was nearly six months old, on September 12th, 1752, a violent earthquake struck far out in the Mediterranean. Olaf was sleeping in a cradle slung from the branch of a tree, while his mother mended nets nearby. The turbulent sea raced up the beach so swiftly and quietly that the mother noticed nothing until it was too late. She ran to save her son but all she found in the cradle was a small fish. Demented, the mother searched for her husband, shrieking that the baby had gone. While her back was turned, a second tidal wave miraculously returned the baby to the cradle and retrieved the fish. When the husband inspected the cradle and found the boy, wet but unharmed, he berated his wife as a fool. She, however, remained convinced that her child had the power to turn himself into a fish at will. To the derision of everyone on that stretch of coast she insisted on calling him Olaf “Pilor” which means Olaf the Little Pilchard.
From my favorite festival book "All Year Round". I memorized the story and then told it so that it would feel more living to the children. They loved it!
We made fish to celebrate the story.
And used them to play a joke on Daddy. When Daddy came in for dinner we told him that Brother was playing in the livingroom, but all Daddy found was his clothes and a fish head. "What happened to my son" he cried? And then Brother jumped from around the corner saying "April Fools". It was a cute introduction for Brother to the holiday.
Here is a link to another blog where they celebrated the holiday in a more traditional way (at least according to the book). It's very sweet!
2 years ago