Elizabeth sings like a bird flying through the gates of paradise.
A canary with vocal chords housed in her heart.
A Polish heart beating out the lyrics of love songs.
Love songs that touch on the meaning of life.
Elizabeth is a poet, a singer and a philosopher.
I have heard her;
Recite her poetry;
Whisper her songs in to my ears;
And voice her philosophy of love.
Thanks to Facebook, I have just learned that Elizabeth studied philosophy at the University of Warsaw.
I have known Elizabeth for eleven years.
For 11 years, we have belonged to the South Florida Writers Association.
For 11 years, we have been friends on Facebook.
Elizabeth, a Catholic mother who has raised three sons and kept one of them alive with the medicine of love and healing power of prayers.
Elizabeth, an American who carries herself as a righteous member of Polish nobility.
Elizabeth who waited 11 years, before she told me this story about her mother.
“Mort, during the war, my mother lived in Warsaw.
She witnessed a horrible murder.
An SS officer caught two small Jewish children outside the Ghetto walls. These starving children scavenged for food. At gun point, the officer marched the crying children to the side of a red brick factory wall. After placing his pistol back in his holster, he grabbed the smaller child by his ankles and swung his head into wall. The child’s brains spattered across the the red bricks.
My mother, who worked in that red brick factory, fumbled through her woolen coat’s pockets for some hidden gold jewelry.
Finding the jewelry, she rushed up to the Nazi murderer and placed her valuables into his hands.
Simultaneously, my mother grabbed the hand of the other Jewish child and ran toward her apartment.”
“Did your mom ever get caught?”
“Did the Jewish kid survive the war?”
“Yes, the Jewish child survived the war. He went on to study business at the University of Warsaw. He became a successful businessman in Yugoslavia.
And every year until the end of her life, on my mom’s birthday, a hundred white roses arrived in her apartment from man whose life she had saved.
With a tear in my eye, I whispered, “Your mother was a brave and righteous women.”