[Journalists] Christmas in Hungary a blessing in disguise |TheColumbus Dispatch

[Tatiana Nisioti]

Dear Elizabeth S.,
I just wanted to tell you in public how pleased I feel you replied to me 
immediately and you sent the attachment!! I rad it, and it has been one of 
my favorite kind of stories ever!
I'm "stealing", day by day, a few minutes to respond to your e-mail, so no 
worries...! I just wanted to let you know by writing a quick post on here...

Happy New Year everyone!!

Anastasia Tatiana Nisioti[s]
Athens, Greece
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Elizabeth Sammons" <antigone at columbus.rr.com>
To: "'Blind Professional Journalists List'" <journalists at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Thursday, December 29, 2011 4:24 AM
Subject: Re: [Journalists] Christmas in Hungary a blessing in disguise 
|TheColumbus Dispatch


> Hi, Elizabeth,
>
> In response to your request, please find below the article run in Columbus
> Dispatch last Saturday -- well, almost. I am actually sending here the
> original I sent them before a couple of unwelcome edits... since when is
> "unrhythmic" for example, a word that they changed from arrhythmic???
>
> Happy reading,
> Elizabeth Sammons, Hilliard, Ohio
>
> ***
>
> Hungarian Christmas remembered
> By Elizabeth L. Sammons
>
>
> As the village train rattled from Sárvár to Szombathely, western Hungary 
> on
> Christmas day, 1991, I tried to override the sorrow and loneliness I felt 
> by
> ticking off the reasons this Christmas was going to be a good one. True, 
> my
> mother at home in Ohio had died unexpectedly that summer during my first
> week of Peace Corps service, rocking my world -true, the food, traditions
> and people of this country felt strange, sometimes even alienating. But
> equally true, last night's worship with fellow villagers had overridden 
> the
> many barriers of language and tradition as together, we rejoiced in the
> birth of Jesus Christ. In a few minutes now , I would be sharing some
> American customs and fun with fellow volunteers.
>
> But when I stepped off the train, where was my fellow English teacher 
> Julie?
> Fortunately I remembered her block of concrete apartments a few unpeopled
> streets away.
>
> My stomach still sinks as I remember two, then three rings of Julie's
> doorbell,  shrill and empty. As a neighbor's radio echoed the arrhythmic
> notes of a Hungarian folk song into the bare corridor, my earlier 
> loneliness
> caught up and nearly overwhelmed me. The Biblical "Because there was no 
> room
> for them in the inn" came alive as my icy steps echoed off gates  --  
> closed
> gates of the more prosperous homes on my way back to the railroad station.
>
> Fumbling with my wallet to find the train fare back to Sárvár, I felt a
> scrap of paper, worried as a ball of lint. With that, my mind raced back 
> to
> a meeting weeks before with Mária and Jozsef, astronomers who lived
> somewhere in this city. "Call us any time you're in  Szombathely," I
> remembered Jozsef saying as we said good-bye  and he wrote down their home
> number that I stuck in my wallet and never put away. "Well," I said to
> myself now, "Here it is. The worst thing that can happen is that they 
> aren't
> home, or that they'll just say no, and then you would be in no worse shape
> than you are now, right?"
>
> Mária picked up on the first ring; within an hour, Jozsef had driven to 
> the
> station to meet me. When we arrived, Jozsef said cheerfully, "Just go on 
> in.
> I don't want you to get cold. I'll park the car in our garage. It's about 
> a
> kilometer from here," (ten minutes walk)
>
> We must have eaten traditional Hungarian Christmas dishes like wall nut or
> poppy seed roles.   I don't remember. Etched in my heart instead is the
> warmth of the welcome I received there as stranger in a strange land, the
> human kindness that transformed a plight of loneliness into the wonder of
> togetherness.
>
> Mária and Jozsef insisted that I stay the night. In my faltering 
> Hungarian,
> I tried to find words the next morning to express my thanks as they drove 
> me
> back to the railroad station. "You are truly a holy family like Mary and
> Joseph sharing your Christmas with me," I managed.
>
> Mária laughed. "We're atheists, of course," she replied. "We're just
> people." Later I learned that a last-minute change of plans and no 
> telephone
> in my apartment had prevented Julie from letting me know that she would 
> not
> be in Szombathely but inviting me to join her and other Peace Corps
> volunteers in Budapest. Even though that Christmas of 1991 was hard, I am
> glad that it happened as it did. Writing this, I wish  any Hungarian 
> readers
> an especially Kellemes karácsonyt  - a Merry Christmas this year and 
> always.
>
>
>
>
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