Leap of Faith

When my grandmother was 18 years old, she took a leap of faith.
She married a man whom she neither knew nor loved.

• It was the beginning of the 20th century. All roads lead to America where the highways and byways were paved in gold, the contemporary land of milk and honey. For a young girl living in the shadow of the Tatra Mountains in the small farming community of Klenovec in the Slovak region of the Austro-Hungarian Empire where the roads were muddy and life was difficult, the opportunity to escape to a land with the promise of a better future was the golden ticket. Yet she would be leaving her family, friends and everything familiar for the unknown.

• She would travel across a vast expanse of ocean accompanied by a small trunk packed with her meager belongings among them a thick black woolen shawl spun and woven by her mother to keep her warm and a dowry of two cut crystal bowls. And she cried knowing she would never see her mother or her mountains again. Throughout the journey, her ears would ring with the begging and pleadings of her mother to her father not to send her, her baby, to such a far away place.

• Yet she went. Not because her father was cruel but because he knew she was going to a better place; to a man who would provide for and take care of her. She went because her older sister wouldn't. She went to marry the man her older sister promised to marry; a man who went to America to make a comfortable home for his future bride; to make enough money to send for her; to create a future that wouldn't have been possible in the shadow of the mountains. She went because her sister was too scared to keep her promise. She went because her father wished it and her future husband accepted it. She went because she closed her eyes and took a leap of faith.

• She came to America; to a new husband; a new life; a new future. She came to the land of milk and honey. She came to a steel town filled with soot and noise and people of all nationalities and faiths; where she didn't speak the language; didn't understand the customs. She came to please her father and her new husband. She came to give her future children a better life. She came to live in the shadow of the great furnace towers of the steel mills belching fire into the sky like the fabled dragons of her beloved mountains.

• She married a stranger whom she came to love. She gave birth to six children and buried one. Her four sons went off to war for her new country and with her vigilant prayers all came home. She raised a daughter with all the advantages she could provide. She kept her family connected to the heritage of the land with their cow and chickens and garden; cooked the food of her mother and grandmother and taught the language and customs of her homeland to her children. She had a house with modern amenities of which her own mother could never have dreamed; found community in her church and helped her younger sister come to a better life. She created a world for herself with strength and humility; courage and hope; love and faith.

• She came to America; to a better life; a better world then that of her father. She left a lasting legacy for her family, her children, and all the future generations through which her blood will flow.

• My grandmother, Zuzanna Kolesar Tomo, a woman I would love to have known; a women whose name is carried by my mother, my daughter and myself; a woman who died before I was born, a woman whose story I cherish. She is an inspiration and a role model - but most of all she was a young girl who took a leap of faith.