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Aunt, World War II survivor in Europe, immigrant, activist, humanitarian. Guiding Light & Powerhouse. Sister in the Daughters of Wisdom.
My Aunt Anna was the greatest influencer in my life, and the most endearing person one could ever meet. It was rare for me to ever see her get upset, but she was no pushover! Her life experiences had made her that way. An example was when some boys stole her purse in New York, and she demanded that they not leave until they gave her subway fare money to get home.
She and other Sisters from her highly educated order had no problem telling Rome what they thought about unfair policies, which gave them an ear in the Vatican. Social equity was her mantra, and Anna was one of the best banner carriers for that cause the world has ever seen. It is why the large church was overflowing when she passed, hailed as the Mother Teresa of Brooklyn. People's eyes sparkled when her name was mentioned.
Her life was a series of miracles. Born in the Serbia region of Yugoslavia at 2 ½ pounds, her parents used their oven as an incubator, kept at constant temperature, and spoon fed her herb teas since she could not breastfeed.
Life during World War II was harsh and confusing, but got far worse after the war. Resourceful got you by; suspicion got you killed. My relatives were of Germanic descent, and such people were rounded up into Yugoslavian concentration camps. The threat of death was omnipresent, and it was not unusual for people to”disappear” for no reason.
She came to America in the late 1950s and intended on becoming an actress, but influence and reflection steered her towards becoming a sister. By the time I got to know her, my Aunt Anna was the beautiful, humble soul who cared for all. She was the most approachable person I’ve ever met, whether she was a teacher, hospice worker, and community activist, or friend. Compassionate and fair, I’ve tried to model myself after her.
She taught me that life exists in balance, and thus we all deal with good and bad moments. Some, like Anna, were exposed to the horrific. It can cause us to wonder why our “normal” is so askew, but only if we have something to reference normal to. The memoir we convinced her to write speaks to this. She was very young when European countries and the people around her were at war with each other, so living with guns and bombs and the threat of death was daily life. Sneaking about, and trying to survive without enough suspicion to be shot; normal. Knowing that she was loved was also normal, and the cornerstone that carried her through.
That is what she professed and shared with the world, that feeling loved when all seems lost can buoy your soul and give you cause to await the next day with hope, despite the hellfire that your life seems mired in.
Reflect, restore, rejuvenate, rejoice. What a gift she was.