Magyar News, 1996. szeptember-1997. augusztus (7. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1997-01-01 / 5. szám
... Volume VII, Issue 5 BX\-X'X-X*X*X x-x-x-x-x-xvXvX*:-: xjxji-x;. x:x:x :;X:x;::x Bridgeport, January 1997 ^11111 ^liP SP|1 IERRY CHRISTMAS ÄND A HARPY NEW YEAR TO ALL mm »•.. ä « lÄlpP Xl)c 2lttgel§ ^iö ^titb Uo Judit Vasmatics Paolini Remembers L he Christmas of 1956 may have been uneventful for some but not for me - a young Hungarian refugee living in Linz, Austria. As young children believe in the wonder and magic of Christmas so did I. I was eight, and spent much time that December praying for a miracle - a small one. I prayed that the angels would find my family and me in this new land and bring us a Christmas tree My family had escaped from Hungary that fall. Other refugees at our camp marveled at the courage and determination my parents had in attempting such a feat with five young children. My brother Michael who was the oldest was only nine; I was eight and the oldest girl; Roza was six; Kati was four: and Miklós was barely three. Others had managed to escape with one or two children—maybe three. However, many refugees at our camp traveled alone. They were men who had left their families behind and planned to be reunited upon reaching America or some other country which offered hope for a better life. As refugees my parents did not work and had no income. Our basic needs: food, shelter, and clothing were provided by charitable organizations worldwide. These included The Red Cross and UNICEF. Mom and Dad tried to prepare us for the disappointment they realized we would surely endure this Christmas. They told us not to expect any gifts; furthermore, since we had no money we may not even have a tree this year. I did not accept these warnings. Being so young I believed in the magic of Christmas. More importantly, I truly did not believe that It could exist without a Christmas tree. Why, in Hungary we lived in poverty. Often we didn’t have enough food to eat - not even a slice of bread — and went to bed hungry. Yet, the angels always came to our humble home as was the custom bringing us gifts and a beautifully adorned evergreen. Eagerly awaiting their arrival we went to bed early on Christmas Eve. Gifts were few; however, when we opened our eyes we were always enchanted by a delightful, brightly sparkling tree. It was quite different from the ornate trees I would eventually have living in America. It was decorated with candles, chocolate candy, and apples - each individually strung on the branches. The tree was never artificial; and instead of tinsel and garland, it was adorned with angel hair. Sparklers gingerly appeared here and there. We were fascinated with the brightly, bursting stars whenever one was lit. As children we were instructed not to take the candy off the tree, but we took such pleasure-doing so. And we were quite sneaky as we unwrapped the chocolate, enjoyed it thoroughly, and cleverly resealed the wrapper. We usually managed to fool Mom and Dad. Sometimes, when they offered a piece of chocolate to a guest we were pressed to find one! ; As a refugee my future was uncertain. How little does an eight year old understand regarding the complexities of world events! Can there be peace without the celebration of Christmas? Such was my fear. The days passed in December, and I longed for some comfort and reassurance. I told Mom and Dad, “We don’t need money to buy a tree; the angels will bring it. They always brought one for us in Hungary.” Again Mom and Dad tried to prepare us for the real possibility of waking up on Christmas morning only to find an empty room. In their attempt, Mom and Dad reminded us that we were living in Austria and not in Hungary; the angels didn’t know where we were and may not find us. How could I accept this? I believed that the angels knew eveiything!‘ In the December of 1956, I often prayed for peace; I was fearful of war. My prayers included a request for the safety of my family. My prayers concluded with a request for the angels to find us in this land which was far from home. The refugee camp in Linz, Austria was comprised of numerous buildings. It included a cafeteria which also served as a recreation facility. Here people gathered to exchange stories, play cards, socialize, etc. A couple of buildings were available for taking showers. Most of the buildings housed the refugees. Several refugees bunked in the same room and had little privacy. Since our family was so large we had a room to ourselves. Christmas Eve was very joyous. Our entire family—Mom and Dad, Michael, Roza, Kati, Miklós, and I - went to midnight mass. Many refugees were in attendance. I remember one complementing Dad as having a nice, powerful voice. After mass the walk back to camp was one of the most peaceful and serene moments I have ever experienced. Except for our laughter and caroling the night was veiy quiet. Fresh snow had fallen; the midnight air was crisp. The Reverend owned a sleigh which was drawn by horses and was headed in the direction of our refugee camp. He generously offered a ride for as many as the sleigh would hold. Some of us walked and some had the pleasure of a sleigh ride, but we all sang many carols along the way. That night I learned to sing a lovely Christmas carol in German; I recall enjoying its sweet melody. Little did I know that a year later I would come to know it as “Silent Night” and sing it in English. When I opened my eyes on Christmas morning my worst fears were abated and my prayers answered. What appeared before me was as I expected - NO GIFTS. However, with such delight my eyes spied a very small evergreen. To my surprise, as it rested on a table, it was decorated with only candy which were neatly strung on its branches. The angels did find us! I was thankful. We had many visitors that day. Several refugees stopped by to see our tree. Except for the one in the cafeteria, ours was the only tree among the refugees. I was happy to share my tree - the angels brought it. As the refugees left, I noticed that the expression on their faces had changed; a tranquil look replaced one which had been somber. Their spirits had been lifted and their hopes renewed; I was glad and appreciated their newly attained serenity for I also sensed it. I was an adult when I discovered the real miracle of Christmas and how that tree came to be. The miracle of Christmas is love; it is the kindness people have in their hearts. The tree I received in 1956 which reassured me that there would be peace was donated by the Reverend upon hearing the plight of five young refugees! Page 1
