Spiritual Things Matter

Photograph by: K. Alan Lewis

 
Genlty, I smile as I realize
The pangs of my pain
The wounds of my sufferings
Are transformed into
A tranquil river of love.

~Viola Jaynes

Gratitude is when memory is stored in the heart and not in the mind.  ~Lionel Hampton

We spent eight days in Germany over Spring break, and it was one of the most rewarding vacations we’ve had.  It was too short to see all that we wanted to see, but the time we did have was filled with so many impressions.

This time, because of our children, we rented our own flat and car.  We mainly just slept in the flat, and the rest of the time we were doing things with our friends, Simone and Heiner.  Simone and Heiner live in the heart of downtown Munich and are true trendy city people.  As we walked around Munich together, I realized how much I miss the energy of its active, vibrant streets.  There was life everywhere.  I wanted my children to experience the wonderfully fresh bread (brödchen) and pretzels that were available in the bakeries there.   Heiner, who is a wonderful cook, often prepared for us delicious and thoughtfully prepared meals, and then we would sit around for hours drinking, eating, and laughing together.  My children felt completely at home with them as it was apparent that they both love children.  I  soaked in every moment, not having laughed this much in a very long time.  My husband loves to travel and see other cultures, wanting to experience the true essence of being a part of that culture.  He always enjoys visiting Germany because he has been received with open arms by my friends and my brother. Taking time off from his busy career, he enjoyed the wonderful laughs and the great conversations we all had with, of course, a good glass of wine or beer.

We experienced many wonderful moments there, one of which was when Heiner, who is from Austria, took us to Salzburg, Austria.  This was a day filled with so many beautiful images.  We stood on one particular overlook and I was taken back by the beauty of old Salzburg.  I counted 10 steeples clustered together, each being a different shape and size with the beautiful Alps in the background.

One thing my son wanted to see was the concentration camp “Dachau” which was only 10 minutes from our flat.  He studies history often on his own and was very interested in seeing it for himself.  I am amazed how much information lies in that place. The German people have made sure that such a horrific event can never happen again. Every document that they still find is displayed in some museum somewhere. To this day, one becomes aware, that the German people as a whole have suffered and are still suffering from the atrocities which took place in WW II. One young person told me that many are still ashamed to even show their German flag: they would rather be called “Europeans” than “Germans.”

Heiner wanted to show us some villages south of Munich, and they indeed were the picturesque Bavarian houses that you would see on postcards and calendars.  One town in particular, Bad Tölz, was a wonderful little town with intricate painted houses up and down its main street. It just so happened that this town was also the home town of my friend Annelise of whom I wrote about here. I also had the opportunity to be with her and her family for one day during our visit.

It was delightful to hear my family try to exercise the German they knew.  My daughter especially was not afraid to try to speak to waitresses and check out clerks in German. I was really proud of her how free and uninhibited she expressed herself.  Children are amazing!

One day we wanted to visit Augsburg where I grew up.  Since we were going to the orphanage anyway we decided to visit downtown Augsburg after that.  One place we visited is called the Fuggerei which is the oldest social housing project in the world, built in 1521 and operated by a catholic church today.  There are 140 apartments in the 67 houses that were built and to this day people who are allowed to live there only pay .88 Euros per year and  they are asked to pray 3x per day for Herr Fugger and his family. When I walk through its small winding little streets, I feel as if  I am in a medieval city within the city of Augsburg.  It has its own gate which is closed each night, its own little church, and community. You can’t help but stand in awe of the incredible amount of vines, which are very old, growing on these little homes, winding itself around the small window shutters, and having reached high up its walls. It is an incredible sight.

My brother, Jean, drove to Munich to spend three days with us.  You may recall the story about my brother, and how it came about that we were separated.  It took over 25 years for us to be reunited again in 1996.  Another 13 years had passed since we saw him again for the second time on this trip.  One of the things that Simone, Jean, and I really wanted to do was go back to the orphanage where Jean and I were kids, and Simone was employed as a social worker.  I have written about my impression of Simone here. Simone had already called the director ahead of time and arranged the meeting.  All of us, including my husband and children, Simone’s husband, Heiner,  and Jean,  drove to Hochzoll, Augsburg, to visit the orphanage.  We were welcomed and invited into a meeting room.   The director wanted to answer any questions we might have, as well as share how things have changed over the years, and what has stayed the same.  She appeared to have been very moved and interested by our visit.  Afterward, a social worker came into the room who has been working there for about 20 years.  He showed us around the entire property and he was amazed at just how much we all remembered our experiences there.

Simone was with us for two years.  Her energy, vitality, laughter, and love brought an enormous amount of joy into our group.  Even though many years have passed, she still has such a positive and happy outlook on life.  She was as moved as I was as we walked through the various buildings and rooms.  We often would just embrace each other when we would remember a particular instance.  Simone, Heiner, and I would also remember the times Heiner would come to visit.  We would rough-house with him until we were completely worn out.  I have one such photo where I was getting ready to attack him.  He is, to this day, a very dear man.

My brother, Jean, who left this particular orphanage at 8, still had such vivid memories of the bedrooms, the arts and craft room, the learning room where we did our homework, the dining room, and the entrance foyer room where we would polish our shoes.  Jean remembered so clearly how we sat on the little benches polishing our shoes there, something I had totally forgotten until he brought it up.  On occasion, he would simply place his arms around me.  Words were not needed.  We understood each other.

I can’t begin to find the right words to express what this visit did for me.  It was in some way, perhaps, an expression of gratitude.  Jean and I are now in our mid-40′s, and Simone, who was only 23 at the time, is now approaching 60.  Jean was already gone when Simone first arrived at the orphanage, but his memories of him and I being together there were deeply moving for me.  Oh, how I missed him when they took him, and how thankful we both are that we were brought together again.

During my years of living at the orphanage, Simone was the one social worker who left such an impression on my heart.  It was her laughter, her energy, her light heart, and her sheer joy of being alive that moved me so deeply.  Being together with her and appreciating the many experiences we had together was a true gift for both of us.  I am so very grateful for her life and for the time we were allowed to spend together.

My heart is truly full from this very wonderful trip.  I remain deeply grateful for the experiences and people that have touched my life throughout the years.  I am equally grateful for those people who touch my life today.

As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.  ~John F. Kennedy

This is my mother and father.  I was with them for the first 1 or 1 1/2 years of my life, until I was placed in an orphanage in Germany.  I lived in an orphanage until I was 14 years old when my father found me and brought me to the United States.  Years later, I was able to find my mother in Nürnberg, Germany, but I was never able to visit her.  Each time I would fly to Germany, she would disappear and return only after she knew I was back in the States.  I was able to speak with her one time before she passed away from lung cancer.  Her voice was a pleasant surprise to me.  I told her that all was well and that I wished her peace of heart and an abundance of love.  I then sent flowers to her hospital, and six months later she died.  I have felt intense sadness for this woman because, even though she brought four children into this world, she  was unable to mother her own babies – for whatever reasons.  May she rest in peace always!

Mother

Through you I came, oh precious soul,
Yet my mother you could never be.
No ill will I hold within my heart for you,
For you did, perhaps, the best you could.

You wandered and searched your entire life
Longing for something you would never find.
We were there, you see, right by your side
Laughter and warmth would have filled your life.

Oh, my beloved Mother,
May you now fold up those heavy, drooping wings
And may your weary heart find rest at last.
All is well!  All is well!  No more tears need be shed.
May your tired soul rest peacefully now,
And may you awaken…with lessons learned,
To the beauty and warmth of Love.

~Viola Jaynes
4/1/09