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Stories from, about, and on my Ancestors



“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5)


My dad told me a true story the other day. A story about my Grandmother Neza. Stories about our ancestors are precious.

They give us connection, a rootedness, and trinkets of wisdom that survived.

Even if we did not have much time to spend with them, their lives can be an example, inspiration, and ultimately: a hommage.


The story was about how during WW2 my grandmother Neza would be baking bread.

During the Night, the partizans would come and demand bread, and during the night the Nazis would come.


It was not a choice, it was not a pleasant ask.

It was understood.


She did not ask questions, she just baked bread.

The Germans asked if someone else was coming.

The partizans asked if someone else was coming.

She said they, did.

She said little, she baked bread.


This is as far as possible from any political meanings that some would like to ascribe to the situation.


It is about regular people, farmers, who had little and watched empires, states, armies, and whatnot come and go.


They had little time for politics or religious debates.


They worked and prayed.


And prayed that they could work and work so they would survive to be able to pray at mass on Sundays, early morning, before work.


This story is about survival and inspiration and it goes beyond our simplified ideas of right and wrong.


After the war was over, the Germans retreating stole a bike, and it took about a decade, for the farm to have another bike, A bike was worth as much as a cow these days.


After "peace" came taxes increased and there was less food to go around.,


Still, they worked on the land, they rebuilt what they could,


And keep going.,


This is about how we keep going.


No matter what.


And how the examples of our ancestors can help us in this worth


task.



“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5)


She was not weak, but she knew how and when to be meek,


She was as strong as a mountain, and I pray we all can come under the gentle mountains our ancestors were and still


ARE!




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