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During my childhood days I remember seeing nuns walking in our village. My father always used to say: "A nun on the square, brings rain in the air". Of course this was a joke, but sometimes he was right and the day after we saw a nun it started to rain!
Years later my father was frequently asked to play the organ in the monastery's chapel, or, as he sometimes called it: "he had to play with the nuns". A bit naughty, my father isn't he? I remember one day, when I was already adolescent, the organ in the chapel was out of order due to maintenance. My father asked me to help bring in a wooden pipe-organ, owned by a fellow organplayer in our village who was willingly enough to lend out his very expensive pipe-organ for free. All for the good cause, of course. His only demand was that the organ was transported by me. Why, I don't know, I guess because I had a big stationcar at that time. Anyway, everything went well, until we had to bring in the organ into the chapel and my hand got stuck between the organ and the posting of the door. Before I knew it I said something very inappropriate at that time and place and I still can remember the look on the face of the nun who was accompanying us. I'm still very sorry, sister.
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