My name is Charlotta and I grew up in a little village on an island in Sweden. My childhood home was a warmhearted place. My mom being a nurse, my father a pastor, I was always surrounded by a wide circle of family, friends and acquaintances. Our door was always open to welcome people for a chat, give a helping hand and listen to both joy and sorrow. My parents often invited friends for dinner and most of the time they ended up in deeper conversations about life, ethics and politics. I found it inspiring to listen to endless discussions and loved to slip into the role of an invisible observer. Maybe that’s why I have become fascinated about people and the stories of their lives. Both in my career and privately, I love to interact with people, and listen to what they have to say.
Having lived in four different countries on two continents I am absorbed by the different cultures of working and living. My three children are a source of inspiration of their own. Looking back at the places where we lived, there has always been persons who have become really special to me and my family. Our neighbors in Germany, who taught our kids how to plant flowers and grow vegetables, to make fire and to appreciate small things in life. In return our kids gave them the joy of accepting them as their extra grandparents. In Sweden, when taking my dog Sanni for a walk, an old smiling lady always waved to me through her window. Eventually, I rang on her door bell to hand her the first spring flowers my children had picked. She was almost 100 years old and invited me to listen to exciting stories about her life and showed me toys from her childhood. My children became enthusiastic and brought her their homemade gingerbread house. Another time, a few days after we moved to the US, our neighbor rang on our door bell to give us a Bonsai plant and told me the story about the American Welcome Wagon when he grew up. He said he had lived in the same house for 60 years and now took care of his almost 100-year-old wife. For the pure joy, we started to bake cookies to bring him, and the kids brought self-painted Easter eggs and drawings. I became an excited listener as he told me endless stories about his family, his career as a pharmacist and photographer and how he took care of injured soldiers at the frontier during World War II.
I am really curious where my next journey will take me.