Nagyi

Yesterday after work I took a short nap. I didn't expect to have such a vivid dream... I was trying to escape from some people when I saw an old village house, so I went in to find refuge here. Unexpectedly I found my grandmother from my mum's side in there. Our precious Nagyi (short version of hungarian nagymama - grandmother).  We didn't really talk, she just took me into her arms and I felt her love comforting me. In that moment everything vanished, I was just being loved with her pure heart perfected in God's Presence that was so tangible. I wanted to stay there forever. In this absolute Love. But I felt she communicated without words that it is time for me to go.

I slowly woke up terribly missing that Love. I could't help myself, I was sobbing uncontrollably for about half an hour. And even now, as I am writing this, tears are streaming down my face. Everybody who knew her would understand. Our Nagyi was really the foundation, the rock of our family. She was always the same. Loving, caring, smiling, welcoming everybody with open arms, never in a hurry. Of course there were times when she was sad and hurting, but she never blamed anybody for that. Now, being much older, I ponder how could she stay that way. After all she has been through.

With 20 she married probably the poorest guy in the village, and her well-off family didn't approve of that. Her first baby girl died probably because of doctor's carelessness. Living with a hot-tempered and extrem jealous husband was an everyday challenge. Then they had to face war, grandfather had to leave for a military service, leaving her alone with little twins. Then Russians came and occupied our country, freely walking into any household, taking whatever they wanted: food, jewelry and more. Imagine being home by yourself with kids, having no protection whatsoever. They even took her wedding ring, but the rest of jewels she cleverly hid in a stove. Later they moved to the city to find a better life. But still she had to visit her mum and ask for food (flour, eggs and milk) on regular basis in order to be able to provide for her family.

When I think back, I cannot recall any bitterness, any anger or deep sadness in her. Instead, she concentrated and filled her life with beauty. She loved pretty things, especially clothes. She loved to dress up and she would pick every piece she would wear very cautiously. She walked with open eyes, constantly looking for an inspiration. She was doing what she loved - creating beauty! For year she was making embroidered tablecloths, pillow cases, wall pictures. She loved creating patterns and bringing them to life using bright colours. Driven by the desire to improve the family income, she learned from a friend how to sew dresses, and soon the most prominent women in the city became her customers - actresses, dancers, reporters. I remember her bedroom full of different dresses in different stages and also her customers having sometimes impossible and ridiculous expectations on her. But she was always kind and patient with them.

She went through difficult seasons with Grace. She was royalty. When she put her night gown, we used to call her countess.  She knew the One, who was behind all this. She knew Her Creator well, the Giver of all good things. She was a prayer warrior, she told me once: ,,I pray for three of you every evening." I thought that is what grandmas normally do, but now I realise, what kind of power was released through her prayers into our lives. I feel it, I sense that spiritual breakthrough in my generation. Because of the prayers and intercessions of those who walked before us! Let us not forget those who did the hard work, so we can go faster, further, higher. Those on whose shoulders we may stand. Lord, please help us to do the same for the generation coming after us. For the sake of absolute Love.