Story of a miraculous re-uniting

Here is a summary of Marcel Steinberg’s incredible story-----

After visiting a friend, he boarded a Manhattan-bound subway for his Fifth Avenue office…he happened to sit next to a man and was struck by the features of the passenger on his left. The man was probably in his late 30s, and when he glanced up, Marcel saw that his eyes seemed to have a hurt expression in them. The man was reading a Hungarian-language newspaper, and something prompted Marvel to say in Hungarian, “I hope you don’t mind if I glance at your paper.”

The man seemed surprised to be addressed in his native language. But he answered politely, “You may read it now. I’ll have time later on.”

During the journey they had quite a conversation. Marcel learned that the man’s name was Bela Paskin and that he was a law student when World War II started, he had been put into a German labour battalion and sent to the Ukraine. Later he was captured by the Russians and put to work burying the German dead. After the war, he covered hundreds of miles on foot until he reached his home in Debrecen, a large city in eastern Hungary. He immediately went to the apartment where his family had lived. He was told that his whole family, including his wife had been sent to Auschwitz, the death camp, by the Nazis. He was devastated and felt he could not remain in Hungary and travelled to France and managed to immigrate to the United States in October 1947, just three months before he met Marcel.

Marcel remembered listening to the struggle of a young woman that he met who had been sent to Auschwitz; from there she had been transferred to work in a German munitions factory. Her relatives had been killed in the gas chambers. Later she was liberated by the Americans and was brought to America in the first boatload of displaced persons in 1946.

Marcel felt It impossible that there could be any connection between these two people, but asked, “Was your wife’s name Marya?”

He turned pale. “Yes!” he answered. “How did you know?” Paskin looked as if he were about to faint.

They got off the train and Marcel found a phone booth and called a number. He recalled “It seemed hours before Marya Paskin answered.

When he heard her voice at last, he told her who he was and asked her to describe her husband. She seemed surprised at the question but gave Marcel a description. Then he asked her where she had lived in Debrecen, and she told the address.

Marcel asked her to hold the line, then turned to Paskin and said, “Did you and your wife live on such-and-such a street?”

“Yes!” Bela exclaimed. He was white as a sheet and trembling.

“Try to be calm,” Marcel urged him. “Something miraculous is about to happen to you. Here, take this telephone and talk to your wife!”

He nodded his head in mute bewilderment, his eyes bright with tears. He took the receiver, listened a moment to his wife’s voice, then suddenly cried, “This is Bela! This is Bela!” and he began to mumble hysterically. Seeing that the poor fellow was so excited he couldn’t talk coherently, Marcel took the receiver from his shaking hands and said to Marya, “Stay where you are I am sending your husband to you. We will be there in a few minutes.”,”

Putting Paskin into a taxicab, I directed the driver to take him to Marya’s address, paid the fare, and said goodbye.

Bela Paskin’s reunion with his wife was a moment so poignant, so electric with suddenly released emotion, that afterward neither he nor Marya could recall much about it.

“I remember only that when I left the phone, I walked to the mirror like in a dream to see if maybe my hair had turned grey,” she said later. “The next thing I know, a taxi stops in front of the house, and it is my husband who comes toward me. Details I cannot remember; only this I know—that I was happy for the first time in many years.....”

(Paul Deutschman, “Great Stories Remembered”, edited and compiled by Joe L. Wheeler WW2)

CHRISTMAS IN THE TRENCHES

Some years ago I read a book that described a Christmas Day event during World War 1 (1914) . The depth of meaning of this has lived with me ever since. I googled it and found a few articles about it:--"The Christmas truce in the trenches 1914”

German and French soldiers were on opposing  sides, both in trenches facing each other, each with the aim to destroy  who they regarded as ‘the enemy’.

Christmas day dawned and the guns were silent… slowly, from both sides of the ‘enemy’ lines men began to appear. They approached each other, unarmed, tentative…. Then the miracle happened; smiles, greetings – no animosity, anger or threat. Just joyful greetings, at first tentatively, I guess, then filled with the joy of this sacred day.

It reminded me of the Christmas Carol -

 “Hark! The herald angels sing glory to the  new-born King, peace on earth, and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled”

For a brief interval there was peace…

I wonder what it felt like to go back in the trenches, to pick up a rifle to shoot at the ‘enemy’ who briefly was a brother with the same Heavenly Father?

Perhaps it is time for us, all of humanity, to get out of the trenches … just listen to the news of all the wars, but also look around you- in nations, in politics, families. We need an armistice not only on Christmas day, but in all of our days. Our survival as nations, families and individuals depend on this. “Peace on earth…”  Our prayer and our aim, each one doing their part in making it happen.

A challenge today…. If you have a grudge, a hurt, a struggle with anyone, resolve that you will do your bit to bring about “peace on earth”  by reaching out in reconciliation – I do not mean you have to embrace them and include them in your life but make peace. Forgive and let go of all the negativity that has darkened your days.  You and I can “do our bit” in bringing peace on earth. And our prayer is that the various nations can do the same. Peace on earth a noble aim.

An Amazing Miracle

An amazing miracle

In my collection of inspiring material, I came across this article by an unknown author….

“Who told you that? My father!

No way he said to him. You were born in 1925. They argued. I was there when you were born. I was 1925. Trust on this.

Eventually Sol conceded and said that he was born in 1925

He asked him one more time, “When were you born?” He said 1925.

He turned to me and said, remember, you were born in 1925.

He disappears. A few moments later I am standing in front of Joseph Managcamei, he looks at me and says, ”When were you born?”

I said in 1925. He motions me with this thumb to go to the right, to the barracks to work.

I learned a few hours later that those who were born in 1927 or later were sent immediately to the gas chambers.

I realized that this man that I met, I did not know who he was, who claimed that he was present at my birth, was literally and angel who saved my live, and here I am today, and I have a family because of that man. And then Sol said, “I did a lot of thinking; what is my wish for myself and my life? I said I had an angel who appeared at my feet in Auschwitz and took me out of death and brought me back to life.

I still don’t know who that person was, that is irrelevant, for me he was a Malak and angel and I said to myself; “I want to be an angel for other people, I want to be that angel for other people. Just like I had an angel in those bleak moments ,those dark moments in history was there for me, I want to be that angel so that other people, when they think back of the greatest moments of their lives, should know that they had an angel who was there fir them to save their lives.

(I cannot vouch that this is a true story, but to my mind it rings true and passes onto a us very real message… let’s be “angels” to those in need.)

On the surface a comedian but in actual fact…

Charlie Chaplin dressed, walked like an idiotic Hitler. He was ‘silent’. No words could be held against him, but he spoke volumes through his silence. When he did speak, offstage, he revealed exceptional insight.

Article found in a magazine:   Wise Words From a Silent Hero

With all the chaos in the world, it is timely to remind ourselves of what is actually important in life. The following is an excerpt from Charlie Chaplin’s famous “The Greatest Speech Ever.”

“And the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way. Greed has poisoned men’s souls, has barricaded the world with hate, has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed.”

“We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical. Our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent, and all will be lost.

To those who can hear me, I say – do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed- the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish.”

And particularly relevant, is the following, as it applies to nearly all the world today. It should serve to awaken us to the knowledge that divided we will fall to the brutal immorality of today’s banking/government/military complex, but united, we have the power to change our futures for the better:

“You the people have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness. You the people have the power to make life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure.

Then in the name of democracy let’s use that power- let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work that will give you the future and old age and security.

“By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power, but they lie. They do not fulfil their promise, they never will.” – Charlie Chaplin

THE PAIN OF A BROKEN HEART

Once upon a time there was a Rag Doll. She was a very happy doll.

She believed that she was very loved, looked after and cared for.

Then she started to get older and was not so pretty anymore and her body was not so good. She was told that she was not a nice doll anymore in any way, so somebody started to undo the stitching on the doll and take out the stuffing and throw it away.

 She was not cared for or loved anymore.

There was a nice new porcelain doll to play with.  

When all the stuffing was removed and thrown away on the dump,

all that remained of the rag doll was the tattered outside material. 

(written by a woman whose husband had an affair with a younger woman)

author unknown

NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCES – INTRIGUING ACCOUNTS

In my years of counselling, I came across people who actually had near death experiences.

Ethel Witherspoon shared her written account of her experience with me---

“This was an experience that started while I was still in Primary School, either Grade 6 or 7. This was at Wynnum State High School about 1944 or 1945.

I must have been kept in or stayed behind for some reason, as there was no one else in sight.

I’d just crossed the road when I distinctly heard a voice saying, “You’ll be dead before forty.” I stopped walking and quickly looked around me. There was no one in sight, not even a vehicle.

I couldn’t wait till I turned forty. No one knew about this, as I thought they would say that I was mad if I told them.

In 1972, when I was 39 years old, fell pregnant again. An ultrasound scan told them that there were problems. I wasn’t told what they were.

Approximately about 8 weeks before the due date, I was admitted to hospital. Seven weeks before the due date, I ended up with an emergency hysterectomy and ended up in intensive care.

There I had massive blood transfusions. One day I found myself floating up above the room. I could even see into the corridor that was outside. I seemed to be in a brilliantly lit cloud. It was just so peaceful.

Then I saw sister…(I’ll leave her name out) running along the corridor outside of my room. She raced in, went to a table and came back and injected me with something. By this time there were others around me. I kept on waving my hands at them saying “I’m alright. “I’m alright”.

When I came back down the first thing I said to all of them was, “Why did you bring me back?”

The next day when Sister.. came in, I told her how I’d seen her running along the corridor to get to me.

She said, “Which way did I come?”

I pointed to the direction from where she had run, and added, “You lost your veil back there too.”

She was amazed and replied, “I did too.”

All this happened just 10 days before I turned forty. So, in fact, I did die before I turned forty.

I don’t tell too many people this story. Too many people would think that I’m strange.

But I distinctly heard a strong male voice telling me that day, that I would be dead before I was forty.

--------------

Many years ago, I became fascinated with these accounts and found many people that had similar experiences. One that was outstanding was a female canoeist who went down rapids, her canoe upturned and was wedged between two boulders. When her friends realized this, they managed to free her and get her to land. However, by this time she had died. A medic in the group continued artificial respiration for what seemed a long time. Suddenly she coughed expelling water...she was alive!

I found that there was a group in the UK who all had had near-death experiences. I was fascinated to read the accounts; each one different, but with similar factors. Ninety-nine percent of their experiences were positive.  (Marge Stathakis)

A LIFE DESTROYED AND REMADE

A testimony from the booklet “Friend in Jesus”  by David Heritage (A booklet of testimonies from ex-convicts)

TESTIMONEY OF DAVID HERITAGE:

I was born in Cape Town in 1970 and on my birth, I was left in the care of the hospital, as my mother died a few days after my birth and my father could not take care of me. I was adopted within a year of my birth but throughout my life was physically, emotionally and sexually abused. In 1985 I gave my life to God at the Kloof Methodist Church in Durban and tried my best to be a good, faithful Christian. However, in the army during 1990 I moved away from God and from there my life was on a rapid downhill.

I mixed with wrong friends and started yielding to Satan more and more. On the night of the 9th December, 1994 I shot and killed my adoptive parents. I was sentenced in 1996 to 25 years imprisonment where I find myself today.

In October,1996 I gave my life back to God- repenting and accepting Him into my life. Since that day I have not looked back!

I relate my story to that of Jonah. Just as Jonah went his own way, not listening to God, so did I. Just as Jonah, realising that he was wrong crawled back to God in the belly of the fish, so did I in my prison cell. As God heard Jonah and saved him so I believe God heard me and saved me!

Through my study of the book of Jonah I discovered a number of interesting points on backsliding which have been encouraging to me, as someone who did backslide and who found a way back to God.

My wish is that my testimony will serve as encouragement to those of you who have perhaps departed from God. Remember that if God could accept me back the He certainly will take you back! Praise God - how wonderful and gracious He is!

(Costa and I, Marge, were involved with David from the time of the murder of his parents till we left Johannesburg and were overjoyed to hear of his on-going work with ex-convicts. He was faithfully supported through his prison years by a member of the Bryanston Methodist Church)

Read more on Facebook:  NEW LIFE CITY CHURCH :    ‘In dialogue with David Heritage’

FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

When Florence was sixteen years old her life was changed. God spoke to her and told her that she had a task that He wanted her to do. Whatever anyone would think of such an event, it was real to Florence. She now knew that her life had a purpose, and that whatever would happen would be in God's will and timing.

In a letter Florence wrote 'We have four miles of beds eighteen inches apart'. The situation was desperate and eventually the male army doctors gave a free hand to organize the hospital and she did. She changed the wards, the kitchens, and the bedding. She provided clean clothes for the soldiers, and even arranged for one derelict wing of the hospital to be rebuilt. It was during this time that Florence gained the nickname 'The Lady of the Lamp' because she was continually checking all parts of the hospital day and night and at night, she needed the lamp. In 1855 Queen Victoria wrote to Florence to thank her for all that she had done

Florence met Queen Victoria, and this resulted in a Royal Commission being set up under Sidney Herbert to make recommendations on hospital procedures and Florence did most of the work! Much of the report was implemented. Florence then set up the Nightingale school of Nursing in 1860. She produced a number of books on nursing.

In 1907 Florence Nightingale, now blind, received the Order of Merit award. In 1910 at the age of ninety she died, having completed all that God had requested from her in this world and was present with Him in the next.

Each one of us has a life-purpose. We are not all called to be the same, we are unique, and our purpose is unique. Some life-purposes are outstanding and make the historic records, others are seemingly mundane, yet have a positive impact. Let us take some time to reflect on whether we are fulfilling our purpose here on earth.

When Death Suddenly Comes

(An article given to me by a dear lady who wished to remain anonymous)

After celebrating our 50th wedding anniversary on the 11th November, 1991, my husband and I rejoiced at God’s goodness to us and our three married children and their children, all of whom love and serve the Lord Jesus Christ.

Six months after this happy event we were asked to stay at our daughter’s home for a couple of weeks while they were away on holiday. We moved in on Friday and early on Saturday morning the family left for their holiday.

That day we had two young great-grandchildren with us, and they enjoyed a day of fun with us. After they had gone home my husband remarked how he enjoyed walking around the garden with each child having a walk on grandpa’s’ shoulders.

When we eventually retired for the night, my husband complained that he could not go to sleep, and this continued till approximately 12.30 am when he asked for a Disprin which he thought might help.

In the meantime, a terrific South African ‘Highveld’ electric storm was building up with howling winds and breaking branches off trees and heavy rain. All of a sudden, I heard my husband gasp and then the terrible ‘death rattle’.

During those moments I actually heard the Lord’s voice say to me, “Do you remember Elijah and the chariot of fire and the whirlwind- the angels of the Lord have come to take God’s servant home.”

This, to me, was more that a Divine revelation – it has been a spiritual blessing through the years that God is love and is always with us.

The parting from a life partner is a most painful experience – it feels as though one has been ‘cut in half’ but faith in the knowledge of Jesus’ resurrection and the ministry of the Holy Spirit lifts the burden and gives inner peace.

Stepmother

This poem was written by the eldest of three sisters and read it was read at their

stepmother’s 75 th birthday. The three girls were 3,7 and 12 when their father remarried.

Their future stepmother was only nineteen years old at the time.

Perhaps a poem of encouragement to stepmothers?

Three little girls without a mother

All taking care of one another;

Along came Father, totally smitten;

Says “This is Shirley, my new sex kitten.”

A wicked stepmother? No! we cried

But Dad was determined to make her his bride.

What lay ahead for us? Who could tell?

Like Hansel and Gretel, our lives would be hell!

But Oh! Our dear friends, how wrong we were.

Our lives were far richer for having her.

Loving and caring, she feathered our nest

So today we can say “Thanks Ma, you’re the best.”

(Given to me by a friend, now deceased. Author unknown)