I know she was born in August – August 26th, I think, in 1925. She died this past June at the age of 95. She was a spunky little gal. She was not afraid to speak her mind. She was a fabulous cook. I was privileged to spend a Passover Seder with she and her family many years ago. These traditions of her faith and heritage were very important to her. Before the ravages of dementia robbed her of her memories, I was honored to hear her recollections of escaping the atrocities of hatred as a refugee in the forests surrounding her hometown.
Sonia Stul Marko was a teenager when she had to leave her home to escape certain death. One of her tasks among the group of survivors was to search the forest for herbs, berries, plants, anything that could be prepared as food to feed the members of her forest family. One day she and a friend were searching for food. It was a beautiful day and wondered into an open glen. They heard the thundering march of soldiers coming down the road. Mrs. Sonia and her friend dropped into a ditch and tried to cover themselves with the broken limbs, decaying leaves and garbage that filled their hiding place. The marching soldiers came to a stop in front of the two frightened young girls. Mrs. Sonia said that the mud and blood stained boots of one of the soldiers were just inches from her face.
The soldiers began to thrust their bayonetted rifles into the growth that covered the ditch. Mrs. Sonia believed they were about to die. As the bayonet came closer to her face, a lovely, bright butterfly flew out of the foliage onto the road. The soldier noticed the butterfly and stopped his searching to admire the butterfly. A voice barked out something in German. The soldiers snapped to attention, the boots spun forward and continued their march down the road.
Some may say: "Wow, how lucky!" or "What a coincidence!" Mrs. Sonia told me, after more than 60 years and with tears filling her eyes, that the butterfly was "the Spirit of God providing a lovely distraction". A lovely distraction that saved her life.
Mrs. Sonia would later marry a young man she met in her forest refuge – Sol Marko. They eventually migrated to the United States. Mr. Marko become a very successful businessman in New Jersey. They became the parents of two Arthur and Rhonda. In 1999, I began working for Rhonda and Mama Marko (as I began to call her) and I became friends.
After the war, she spent some time in a “displaced person’s camp”. Her hut, near the entrance of the camp, was always neat and tidy. It became known as the place for a fine cup of coffee and a “nosh”. She welcomed several important guests to her “home”. One guest after spending time with Mama Marko, asked how she might repay her hospitality. Mama Marko told about her concern for her two older sisters who had married and moved away from home prior to the war. Mama Marko did not know how to contact them or how far Mr. Hitler’s reach had been. She believed they had moved to Peru. The guest said she would see what she could do.
A week later Mama Marko’s picture was printed in all the newspapers in Lima, Peru. A few months later she received a letter from her sisters. Her guest for coffee and a nosh was Eleanor Roosevelt. I suppose every August I will recall my friend and her stories (as she told them to me).
A lovely butterfly lit on the
Blood-stained boot that marched
To the beat of senseless hatred.
It flew away on the breeze
Granting life to an innocent soul.
What a lovely distraction!
