Danevang

This is probably my most random blog post to date. Yes, my title is weird. But, I wanted to share it with you. 

Danevang (pronounced Danny-vayng) is the name of a small Danish community in Texas where my Dad worked for several summers while I was a little girl. It is on the outskirts of El Campo which is about an hour and a half from Houston. I don't recall directions. I just know that when we would visit my dad in Danevang, we were an hour and a half from my grandmother and my Aunt Theresa. I don't recall much about the town except for the small,  wooden, Danish church and cemetery that were over 100 years old, and the  approximately 300 sq. ft. convenience store that sold hamburgers the size of my head. I was so young that memories of Danevang run together. I can remember crying because my sister found a $5 bill on the ground as we were walking back to our camper from the cotton gin. And I can remember my mom and her friend Diane tricking my dad into believing that they had stolen fruit from one of the towns prominent farmer's apple tree. There was also the pit bull that loved my sister. 

But, this is not really about the town or the memories. It is more about the name. Danevang became our family password. When my mom would have someone else pick us up from school, they would have to give us the password before we got into the car. If the person did not know to say "Danevang," then we did not get into the car with them. I know it sounds overprotective, but a password is a great idea for keeping your children safe. It is something that I will definitely use as Ava gets older. If you plan on using a family password, make it something that is completely unique to your family. No one in my town knew what Danevang was. It was a special code that only we understood. Not only did it keep us safe, it made us feel like we were part of something special. We were part of a select group of 4 people who knew the "code." :)