水果视频bodies - A flash of golden sneakers...
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- Published on Friday, July 1, 2016
By Rita Friesen
The Neepawa Banner
When my friend and I spent time in Holland, we stayed several days in Groningen. Our accommodation was a lovely old hotel in the heart of the city 鈥� Miss Blanche 鈥� kitchen, living room, bedroom, water closet and bathroom. Walking distance to almost everywhere.
As we paused for a coffee at the train station, Marie struck up a conversation with a well kept, articulate woman.
She was seventy-five years old, and doing quick math, four when the war ended. An acupuncturist by profession, she still works two days a week because she is very good at it and enjoys her work. Her family is encouraging her to slow down, but after engaging in conversation, I don鈥檛 think that will happen any time soon!
She was willing to talk about her life, struggles and joys. Unlike many of the people we met, she was fluent in the German language as well as Dutch and English. Unlike many of the people we met, she is willing to travel and take her holidays in Germany. The hurt runs deep. Dutch, not of the Jewish faith, she felt the effects of the Holocaust and the war years a bit differently. She recalled the last year of the war, the hunger year, when countless citizens of Holland starved to death while the limited food resources were sent to Germany.
Wanting to be whole, wanting to be productive, she was willing to seek counselling from trained professionals. It was heart breaking to hear that for all of her adult life, about every four years, she engages the help of counsellors. She maintained that about the time she was confident she had dealt with all the residual fear, distrust and anxiety, about the time she thought the scars had healed, she faced another revelation that needed to be heard. By facing one demon after another, she had the courage to witness the horror of every concentration camp in Germany. Strong woman, striving forth to wholeness.
There was no self pity in her discourse. Matter of fact recounting of how life was for her and how she saw it. Openly meeting our gaze and answering our hesitant questions. As it neared time for her to meet her train, she rose from where she sat, paused and then stated as a matter of fact 鈥� 鈥榃e must have compassion for the people of Syria. Those children are seeing what I saw鈥�. Seventy-one years ago she saw the magnitude of war in her home country. Images and sounds and smells that linger still. And as she strode through the doors, going forward with her days work, I noticed she wore golden hued sneakers. Somehow, for me, that image captures her. Her attitude, determination and courage. A flash of gold.
As we celebrate Canada Day, may we see children at play, hear sounds of laughter, rejoice in the blaze of fireworks. Celebrate our country and our place of privilege.
