From war-torn Russia to the quiet strength of family life in America, Aunt Rose’s courage was forged in suffering and sustained by faith and humility.

By Richard Lukas | National Catholic Register.

I was blessed to have two loving parents who were the nucleus of an extended family that included my brother, sister, aunt, two cousins, uncle and a part-time housekeeper who joyfully filled the role of my midwife grandmother, who had died before I was born.

One of the most extraordinary people in my family was Aunt Rose, who, along with my two cousins, Eleanore and Dolores, came to live with us for several years. “Dolly,” the younger of my two cousins, became my best friend for many years.

Aunt Rose came into our family by a remarkably circuitous route that began in Russian-occupied Poland and was dramatically changed by the end of World War I. By then, the Bolshevik seizure of power in Russia in late 1917 had been followed by the Russian Civil War and a war with the reborn state of Poland. 

Aunt Rose, whose mother had died, accompanied her father, a classically trained organist, eastward across the Russian steppe and Siberia. They were part of a hejira of refugees hoping to find passage from Vladivostok to the United States, the new “Promised Land.”

During their long, arduous trek, my aunt somehow got separated from her father. Forced to seek out family members and friends for help, she — a determined and courageous young lady — continued her journey of suffering and deprivation for weeks across what had once been the Russian Empire.

The country was in chaos until the Bolsheviks consolidated power in Moscow. Warring armies and guerrilla bands were everywhere, stealing, raping and killing countless men, women and children.

I recall asking my aunt about her experiences when I was in the fifth or sixth grade.

“Dicky,” she replied tearfully, “I really can’t talk about those terrible months. I can’t do it.”

The last thing I wanted was to hurt Aunt Rose, whom I loved and who was like a second mother to me.

Years later, when I was a student pursuing graduate studies, I brought up the subject again. This time, she was more responsive…. Continue at National Catholic Register