The following is a prayerful poem of inspiration.
Our paths in life are not always smooth and easy and peaceful.
Sometimes we just survive until we thrive.
This is a reminder to each of us of what is possible even when we face adversity.
The path sometimes not so easy as it seems to walk and yet pushed forward,
Sometimes falling forward.
Was this a decision she even made for herself at all?
A young girl,
13 maybe,
Eats one small meal each day.
If lucky of potatoes and bread,
Then in the off chance the family gets meat to share is a good day indeed.
But mostly it is a shared meal from a single brown paper bag,
Crumbs of white bread tumbling out onto the wood table.
To be a dancer,
Singer,
Or actress,
Wouldn't that be grand?
What a wish it was.
Only a wish suddenly dashed.
Her dreams die broken by cries of war.
A family scattered and torn apart and at age 16 she decides to make a brand new start.
Her sister and her run hand in hand through farms in the dark across Czechoslovakian land riding away from the Reich's darkest hands.
On the run,
Once across the border,
Into a small safe German town,
She begins to work as a nanny caring for a child she knows very little about.
Was this part of her path?
A calling of sorts?
Or was she running from danger for survival,
Not really part of her original plan at all?
In her new role as nanny,
Not that of an actress or singer,
As she had once dreamed.
Instead she meets a young man,
United States Air Force,
And into his arms she ran.
Not a nanny is a calling,
But for survival you see a choice.
Not an actress,
But a wife of the US Air Force.
Survival once more.
But just maybe sometimes survival is part of the path.
Moving along her path,
Displaced and alone,
She survives and she thrives and onto her new path she is born.
Her small family,
Their final post,
She would soon call home.
A station in Yuma,
Her two daughters,
Her husband,
And her new citizenship gained,
Led her to a school district,
Becoming a baker,
Where no children would starve under her care ever again.
Her path born of survival pushed her forward to a place where a seed deep in her heart to feed hungry children was set in motion,
For which she played a part.
For sixty years her hands baked fresh donuts and crafted beautiful wedding cakes,
Baked teddy bear cookies,
And jam-filled spitzbooben desserts,
Peanut butter bars,
And moist dinner rolls.
Her soul never resting,
Each school child fed,
Kept pushing her forward from a past that has seen too much death.
To survive the worst,
To have lived the best,
To find herself free,
To have fed so many children allowed her soul to finally find a little rest.
I pray that as we travel on our paths,
Our journeys,
Whether together or apart,
That we remember a piece of my grandmother's wisdom.
She took the darkest times and still was able to shine so brightly.
May we all walk our paths,
Just as we are in each moment.
Whether we step toward,
Fall down onto,
Are pushed into,
Are shaken about,
Leap towards,
Step backwards,
Or stumble upon.
May we be held in spirit's arms as we travel,
And may grace always be close at hand.
Aho.
