The Lioness
The Lioness
O nce, Auður used to go to bed with a knife. With three young girls in the house and a husband working at sea, the thin piece of timber that served as the front door was a temporary feature. She often felt nervous and fearful at night. Looking back on this, she laughs.
Yet this is a woman who’s known to queens and presidents. She’s on a first-name basis with a host of Icelandic ambassadors across the world, and some politicians and bureaucrats perhaps refer to her as “that woman again.” Some might even compare her to a lioness for her steely resolve and commitment to those she loves. “Mothers are fighters,” she says, “and a mother’s love is the strongest love.” She speaks these words sitting with her fists clenched.