A Reminder To Remember Pede by June Nyberg
Nisse with goat, by June Nyberg. Used with permission.
Pede is a nisse. A nisse (plural nisser) is always Norwegian. From that, the description varies: said to be no taller than a small child, or no bigger than your thumbnail so he can slip through a keyhole or other very small openings. To describe him is easier if you recall stories told to you as a child. Beliefs in nisser, as well as trolls, lasted well into the late 1700s. Stories, said to be true, were told in the long winter nights and in the summer seter. Once encounters were not uncommon, but in recent years, folk stories have been lost to action films with new characters. I will tell you what I know to be true about nisser —or mostly true—or not—because actual sightings have been very rare in the past 100 years. He is very small, very old, centuries old. A nisse is always a “he.” With sharp eyes, he can see in the dark. Though he is small, he is very strong, with short legs, a long white beard, and with the ability to move very fast, darting to avoid notice. He is quiet as a mouse, unless he knocks a cup from the shelf or table. He’s not too smart, but he has a big heart. He is often detected by a foul odor. There seem to be no recorded sightings of a nisse bathing or even near soap. Clothing is ragged, a tattered jacket or vest, patched or worn pants. He’s sometimes seen in wooden shoes, furry boots, or bare feet (very large feet). Some say he has only three fingers on each hand and three toes on each foot. It seems there are many unique descriptions, but every sighting agrees that he wears a knitted red cap that looks like a sleeve from a small red sweater tied on one end with a knot that has raveled. Most stories tell that he lives on a farm or bondegård— rarely is he found in towns or cities. He establishes himself on a farm when it is newly built and stays there for the life of the farm, generation after generation, because a farmer never sells his farm—unless he goes to “Amerika”! The nisse stays with 18
family after family as guard, protector, and general “do-gooder,” always hoping that he will be rewarded with a meal at the end of the day, placed for him in the barn or a shed to recognize his good work. Such is the story of Pede. Pede says he likes his name pronounced “Peedeee” not “Peda.” He says, if we are telling his story, he wants his name right. Pede’s farm, at the time we begin, was cared for by Peder and Elsa Oleson and their children. Pede liked the Oleson family best of all the families before. So he changed his name, as he sometimes does. Now he is Pede—sort of like Peder. Pede doesn’t know how old he is. He doesn’t know how to count. But he knows he has been on the bondegård “forever.” Nisser are believed to be hundreds of years old. There’s no evidence that they are newborn and no nisse cemetery has been found. Pede is believed to be over 200 years old. Pede has enjoyed life with Peder and his family. He does daily rounds with the animals, seeing that they are clean and happy, checks the garden for weeds and bugs, plays with the young children, cleans the pantry—whatever he can do unnoticed to help the family. In the summer, he follows the seter jente with the cows, sheep, and goats into the mountains, where the grass is plentiful. He finds the sweetest grass that makes the richest milk, the sweetest cream, and the richest butter and cheese, and protects everyone from wolves and thieves. Pede was happy and Peder prospered. Every evening Pede was rewarded with a bowl of some of the family meal. A fairy tale begins with, “Once upon a time.” This may be a fairy tale, or it may not be. You decide. It is the story Pede wants you to know! Pede’s eventyr began in Norway, long ago—but not too long ago—back when time was not measured in numbers of minutes, hours, and days, but from sun up to sun down. Sometimes there Vesterheim