To Ms Landry

There was a quiet little woman that found her way into my thoughts today. She was an elderly neighbor. A small woman, looking very much like the old news reals from Eastern Europe showing the elderly and children amoungst the bombed out countryside, she was our own time machine to a time in Europe that most only read about.

A woman of German descent, when she met her husband the second world war was just coming to an end. He was an American serviceman, and she a native German. When first they met he spoke not a word of German, nor did she speak a word of English. Still, they somehow managed to conquer the language barrier as they managed to spend a lifetime together. When I first met them her husband was already in poor health. Matter of fact, he was almost impossible to understand. He was old, sickly, and totally wheelchair bound. She was still active and involved in life. I suspect she must have been lonely often.



Her family still resided in Germany, and with her husbands poor health and limited resources it was unlikely that she would ever travel to Germany again. Her family did travel to see her on rare occasions, but for her a trip "home" was not in the cards. As I travel alot, I have spent some time in Germany. There was a candy she said she loved so I would get her bags of it each stop in Frankfurt. I also managed to bring home a collection or two of German Christmas music. In return she tried allways to bake a little something special. Most everything she brought to the house was eaten before I ever got so much as a bite.

Long ago her husband passed away, and still most days you could find her out in her small yard tending to her plants. Bent over at the waist, there she would be tending to whatever plant needed attention. We all had a passion for gardening, so it was not unusual for us all to share whatever cuttings or leftovers we had. She was always most appreciative of whatever was offered. It was a point of honor that she show you how whatever she had inherited was doing in her yard. It was not a large yard, but was well kept and pristine. Even when her arthritis got so bad that for days she would stay inside, always when the pain was gone (or at least lessened to bearable levels) she could be found back in her garden.

Eventually my mother-in-law moved in next door, and they shared some time together. In the words of Billy Joel "sharing a drink they call lonliness, but it's better than drinking alone...". Come to think of it, usually whenever Ms Landry was working in her yard somewhere by her feet was my daughters cat. Maybe she wasn't so all alone afterall?

We shared several Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners with her. She was always so enthusiastic and appreciative. Evidently her family had been quite musical as she always shared that they used to all sing and play different musical instruments together. She was always anxious to share in singing Christmas music. I remember her taking out her accordian and playing for us. There is something you do not see much anymore, an accordian virtuoso.

Today, sitting in the Leipzig train station watching the people coming home from work she was suddenly on my mind. Leipzig is no different than most cities in northern latitudes. It gets dark early, and fall is certainly in the air. Stilll, the German "flavor" is most evident. It is not so much what the people wear, it is their overall culture. The stores all have the beginnings of Christmas wares, and believe it or not, there is a difference in what we use to decorate or homes at Christmas. It is chilly outside, and the leaves are past their full fall color. There are still alot of leaves hanging from the trees, but the spaces between them is perpetually growing. The grip of any leaves left is tenuous. With each little whisp of a breeze you can hear the dried leaves rustling. That unique smell of fall is in everything. The train station was full of wonderful aromas. The many fruit markets, the different grills offering different brats and sausages were all filling the air with sweet smells of bounty. I sat there and wondered if she would find it familiar.

I sometimes think we can call the spirits of those we love to us by thinking of them...... I hope it is true. Wherever she is, I hope she knows she is fondly remembered. God bless her.