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One Can Make a Difference
By Megan Hunt
I stepped out of my hostess family’s
small brown car onto the worn cobblestone streets of Sopron, Hungary. As
I looked around, I noticed that all the buildings seemed to flow
together as one. There was uniformity to the line of buildings in the
aspect that they were all a peach terra cotta or brown color. Most were
rather square in shape with soft rounded corners from the wear and tear
of many years past. Despite the architectural similarities, fresco
painting with dull warm colors, and detailed woodwork around doors and
windows gave each abode its own uniqueness. It was about two o’clock and
the summer sun was beating down on us. I was curious to which house was
my hostess family’s great grandmother’s house, and if it would be a
relief from the heat when we entered. Having visited several other local
buildings, I doubted this since air-conditioning was not common in that
area.
My hostess, her father, my classmate Cari, and I crossed the quiet
street to an apartment close to the center of the series. Tomas, my
hostess’ father, opened a small wooden door that looked as if it could
have led to a secret passage. The opening was so low I, being 5’6”,
almost had to duck. I was surprised to see that it led to a small
courtyard shared between two apartments. A cobblestone path led to both
doors. Farther back, there was a garden with eccentric wild flowers of
pinks, yellows, oranges, and purples. There were also flowers hanging
from and climbing up a wooden arbor. Their sweet aroma combined with the
smell of aged wood was very inviting. Even though we were supposed to be
shopping, I was getting excited about paying this surprise visit to my
hostess Eszti’s great grandmother. While looking around, I found a
bronze plaque on the side of the house that displayed the date of
construction, 1700. I can just imagine the stories that are inside these
ancient walls. If only they could speak in order to be the storyteller
rather than my imagination.
Tomas urged us to approach the screen door to the right. After ascending
a small set of stone stairs, I lightly rapped on the door. A short,
plump elderly woman slowly came to the door and opened it. We entered a
dimly lit kitchen that had a must smell as if fresh air had not been a
common visitor. Tomas introduced his two American guests to his
grandmother. At once she embraced Cari and me and kissed both of our
cheeks. I was slightly uncomfortable since that was not a normal custom
at home, and I could not understand a word that was being said.
Following the warm welcome, we were al offered seats at a small kitchen
table with a white delicately hand-embroidered tablecloth. She
immediately apologized for not having any teats prepared for her special
guests, but we assured her it was fine.
Tomas began acting as translator as Eszti asked Mrs. Nagy to share some
stories with us. The hands of time started to turn back and her story
was unleashed. Throughout her 92 years she had experienced some
difficult times especially having grown up in such a poor country in the
early 1900s. She and her family would have to stand in soup kitchen
lines for hours just to receive one or two decent meals a day. When
World War II came around, times got even worse because of foreign
invasion, and less and less money. Despite hard times she was till
concerned about others. During the British bombings she risked her life
to save a neighbor’s little boy after the babysitter had run off. I
cannot imagine how much courage it took to live day to day much less
risking your life like that. Soon after this story, she returned to the
present in order to give us a small bit of advice. She hated nothing and
no one, not even the British and Americans for what they did during the
war because it was not Christian to do so. She exclaimed how lucky this
younger generation was and hoped we would realize that even when we have
hard times, they most likely are not as horrible as what some had
experienced decades ago.
Throughout this whole narrative I could simply feel the emotion
radiating from Great Grandmother Nagy. It was impossible not to share
her emotions while she was sharing her life story. I have never been so
moved with such sincere raw emotion, this I had become teary-eyed. Sadly
it was approaching out time to depart. As we said our good-byes, Mrs.
Nagy embraced us even tighter than before. She sincerely expressed how
important it was that we had come to visit her when we could have been
doing so many other things. It had been her life dream to meet and
American before she passed away, and now she could say she had met two.
She then kissed us good-bye and Tomas quickly snapped a picture to
capture the moment.
I never dreamed that taking such a small part of my day spending it with
someone like Eszti’s great grandmother could make such a lasting
impression on my life. I fulfilled someone else’s dream just by sitting
and chatting with her. Before that moment I did not know how important
an individual could be, but now I see.
This experience was just one of the many I got to be part of during a
twenty-day program with People to People Student Ambassadors when I
traveled to Italy, Austria, Hungary, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, and
France. The purpose of this program was to promote peace through
awareness. Being able to communicate and interact with these countries’
citizens were excellent ways to achieve this goal. I feel so blessed in
having been selected as a member of this presidential group. It has
forever left an imprint on my life. |