Fraternity-Testvériség, 1964 (42. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1964-03-01 / 3. szám
FRATERNITY 7 ERIKA TAKARÓ SZÉP: A MEMORABLE ANNIVERSARY 1912 — 1962 In these times of constant change it seems almost incredible that my father served in only two churches during his entire ministry — 15 years in Budapest and 35 years in New York City. Seven of us were born in the Budapest parsonage — and two on East 69th Street in Manhattan. A gold-framed photo of our first home stands on my desk. It was so luxuriously furnished that if you transferred it intact to any Park Avenue mansion it would still be entirely suitable in the new milieu. This magnificence was unusual in a Hungarian minister’s home even before the First World War. But my maternal grandfather was a very wealthy architect with a portfolio in the government. As was the custom, my mother received a dowry upon her marriage — the furnishings of an entire household and a sum to finance six months of travel throughout Europe on their honeymoon. From earliest childhood mother was trained by a series of French and German nursemaids, and in her teens an English governess was in residence. Mother spoke four languages by the time she was ready for boarding school. Her summers were spent abroad or on Grandfather Francsek’s estate in Pécel. When mother was sixteen she lost her beloved “mamuska”, and a year later grandfather married again. He had five children to think of. My second grandmother was the favorite sister of István Bárczy, popular mayor of Budapest. At boarding school in Aszód mother came under the influence of a saintly teacher. While still in her teens she dedicated her life to Christ. When she got back to Budapest her parents noticed a change in their eldest daughter. She would no longer attend the mardi gras balls and refused the attention of the young men of her social set. She no longer attended the fashionable church of her elders, but went to the Calvin Square Reformed church. It was there that one day she heard my father preach. He had just come back from a trip to the Holy Land and Egypt. He was fired with an evangelistic zeal that was a bit unusual in those days. My parents met for the first time through mutual friends. Mami was 19 and my father, whom we always called “Api”, was thirty years of age. Despite parental objections they were married a year later. Api was a self-made man. He came from a small village in Hungary called Izsák. His father owned vineyards. They were not poor, but because an older son had gambled away his tuition, Grandfather Takaró refused to sponsor his next son’s education. Api lived in miserable hovels with dirt-floors while studying for the ministry. He tutored and slaved to get his education. But when he finished seminary, there
