The older I get, the more valuable and meaningful the memories of my family and friends are becoming.
Recently, while I was sifting through such memories, slowly turning the pages of my mind, I began thinking about my mother. I recalled the time I found a notebook filled with her beautiful handwriting.
After my parents passed away, I came into possession of their personal belongings which included a box full of letters and a little notebook. When I looked at it, I saw that it was written in Hungarian so I put it back into the box, set it aside and promptly forgot about it.
When I sold my house, I was forced to downsize and discard many things I considered important. I had no choice as I moved from a house into a small condo. That is when I picked up this long-forgotten box and rediscovered the little notebook.
When I opened it, the first thing I noticed was the date at the top of the page: January 14th, 1950.
At that moment, I realized that I was holding something profound. It was my mother’s recorded journal of our voyage from Triest, Italy to Melbourne, Australia. I remember feeling rather ashamed that I had put this treasure aside and not bothered to read it when I first handled it.
I sat down in my easy chair and began to read her words. It was as if she had reached out and touched me and stood next to me as I struggled with the language. She drew me into her story and I felt both her trepidation and confidence as she contemplated her future. How was she going to manage without the support of her family and friends? Could she learn a new language? Would she ever be able to return home? My knowledge of the language was rudimentary so it took me several hours to read it all, but once I started, I could not put it down. What an incredible find and one that I later incorporated into the biography I wrote about their lives.
The next time words from the past surprised me was that of my sister's writing. After her passing, my niece was going through Eva’s belongings and that was when she discovered a story Eva had written called, “I Found My Home”. It was a poignant account of her life and she began telling this story as the second world war was nearing its horrific end. She recalled how frightened she had been each time the sirens sounded and sent us scurrying to the basement for safety.
The constant hunger she experienced when all we had left to eat were a few vegetables. She went on to describe how miserable it was living in the aftermath of the war and why the decision was made to escape from Hungary. The many weeks it took until we arrived in Switzerland and how happy she had been living in that idyllic little village.
She wanted so much to stay there but it was not to be as her family had to immigrate to Australia.
It did not take long before she began to love living in Sydney. Learning the new language came easily to her and she had no trouble making friends.
The big city was a fantastic place for a teenager such as her, and soon Eva’s days were filled with fun and laughter. She and her friends were constantly on the go either to the tennis courts or splashing about in the ocean at any one of Sydney’s fabulous beaches.
As wonderful as this life was, she could not put down roots as our father decided to make yet another move, this time all the way to Canada. It was hard to say goodbye to friends and to the country she had come to love and call home. Once more, it was a different country with different customs but at least the language was the same.
It was another new beginning and a time to make new friends. Had she stayed in Sydney, she would have been going to university, but now, it was time to go to work and make the best of it.
She looked forward to the coming of winter when perhaps she would once again be able to ski in the mountains. She would trade surfing for skiing; it seemed like a fair exchange.
Her story was written after she began working in Lethbridge. During her lunch hours, she put down on paper her feelings and gratitude at finally arriving at a place she could call home.
She looked forward to the future and was ready to embrace whatever came next.
Eva finished her story with these very stirring words, “I have had many homes, but now I have found my permanent home in this wonderful country.”
